My girl is sick.

When I came home from work last Tuesday, she seemed out of sorts and lethargic. She wasn’t interested in food, and she hid out in the closet for part of the night. I was really concerned, but hoped that whatever it was would soon pass. But on Wednesday, there was no improvement. She wasn’t moving around, and her breathing appeared shallow and rapid.

I took her to the emergency hospital, and they immediately started doing a battery of tests on her. She was poked and prodded repeatedly, but she was a cool customer the whole time, even giving the doctors some affection.

The first test results came back, and told us that one of Callie’s kidneys is smaller than the other, and is not functioning properly. As a result, she has developed a kidney infection – but this can be treated with antibiotics. I was so relieved that this was manageable with medication – my panic eased a bit, and I began to calm down.

But then her radiographs came back.

Callie has a mass on her lungs. There is a slim chance that this is inflammation, or part of the infection…but the doctors tell me that this is most likely cancer. Normally, the next step would be to aspirate the mass and analyze the cells, but the location of the mass makes this a nonviable option.

Instead, the doctors suggest that Callie get a CT Scan to determine if masses are present elsewhere in her body.  Apparently, feline lung cancer rarely occurs on its own – it is usually a sign that cancer has spread from another part of the body. But if indeed she only has the mass on her lungs, they want to operate and remove it, then biopsy it.  If it is cancer, she will most likely need chemotherapy or radiation.

Callie needs to finish her antibiotics for the kidney infection before anything can proceed. I’ve asked the doctors to first try medication to see if the mass will shrink, and they have agreed. The idea of putting my nearly 15 year old cat through a rough, invasive surgery terrifies me. I don’t yet know if that would do anything to prolong and enhance the quality of her life.  My greatest fear is that I would put her through all of it, and she would spend the last part of her life in pain. But I would also do anything to help her – I love her with all of my heart and can’t bear the thought of life without her.

Callie has an appointment with the internist next week. In the meantime, I am trying to learn everything I can about feline cancer. I have talked to her regular vet, requested another opinion, and joined a Yahoo group for people in similar situations. I am supplementing her diet. And I am still hopeful.

 She seems to be comfortable right now. Her breathing is still too rapid, but I’ve been told by the doctors that she is not in pain. And she’s taking her meds like a trooper. For the most part, she is eating, and she’s able to sleep without difficulty. And she’s still my sweet, sweet girl. She may be sick, but it hasn’t stopped her from doling out the love and affection. Oh, and she still finds the time to brawl every now and then with her sister, Selina.

I haven’t yet had the chance to tell all of you that love her about the situation, but those who do know – like Aunties Lila and Erin, and Amazing Boyfriend – have been a great help to Callie, and a huge comfort to me. I’m a wreck, so they’ve been holding me together. Thank you.

Please think good, positive thoughts for Callie. And maybe say a prayer or two, if you are so inclined. She’s a diva and a spitfire, so I have to believe that she can get through this. Honestly, I am surprised that any illness has the audacity to mess with her. Big mistake, lung mass.

Look at me, using hulu.com. I’m no tickety tack hot tranny mess, that’s for sure!

Happy Birthday to Mike, who celebrated his birthday on February 2nd! Mike was kind enough to call and remind me of said birthday….at 2:30 in the morning.  Thanks, Mikey! Cheers!

I’m usually not someone that likes to kick people when they’re down. But in this situation, I can’t help myself – snark trumps sympathy. The relentless media coverage of Britney Spears has lead me to two conclusions: 

Tom Brady’s quest for world domination continues unabated. But contrary to popular belief, I don’t think he made a deal with the Devil. I would venture that there are other, holier forces at work here. Apparently, being a former altar boy is not without it’s priviledges.

 Sadly, another round of America’s Next Top Model has come to a close, and Saleisha was crowned the “winner”.

Saleisha is a pretty girl, but I just can’t get past the weave. Every time I see her, I picture her tooling around on rollerskates – not exactly high fashion, is it?

 This “cycle” had the most boring final three ever. The only one with any edge at all – Jenah – was booted first.

Bland Saleisha and even blander Chantal were left to battle it out.

Again, they are both pretty girls, but totally commercial. I can’t imagine either one of them doing any editorial work for a top magazine. Oh, and since neither one of them is 14 and Eastern European (or Brazilian), I doubt we’ll be seeing much from them in the future. Bye, girls!

Overall, this season was a bit of a letdown. But as long as Tyra continues to grow increasingly unstable, I’ll be tuning in. I can’t wait for the next cycle!

Images are from the fabulous FourFour.

I was almost late to work today. I sat riveted by a Today Show segment about a set of septuplets who are turning ten years old this year. The family also has an older daughter, so that’s eight little ones, all under one roof. They seem like well-adjusted kids who help out with chores and such, and neither parent appears to have become a raging alcoholic since the births. But still, I was stunned. I just can’t imagine having that many kids, fertility drugs or not. I was raised Catholic, not crazy. Or Mormon. (Kidding!)

My great-grandmother Anastasia had thirteen kids. My grandmother Josephine had two (but raised three). My mother just had me. If this downward trend continues, the best I’ll probably be able to do is buy schoolbooks for a child in Malawi. Cross your fingers that I’ll remember to send off the check each month!

When I tell someone I’m an only child, people inevitably ask me if I’m spoiled.  I usually just sigh and tell them no, but I should really just ask them if they were raised by wolves, since they appear to have no decorum. This is similar to what happens when people find out my cats are 14 years old. “Wow, they’re probably going to die soon”, they say. Thanks! Your grandpa is old, too…. he could kick it any minute now. Let’s get out the stopwatch!

I’m also informed regularly that I must have been so lonely growing up. Sorry to disappoint, but no. While having a brother or sister would have been nice, I did just fine on my own. Besides having the attention of my parents (remember, only children are spoiled!), I learned how to entertain myself. And after years of watching my friends get pummeled by their siblings, I’m pretty happy that I missed out on the violence, too.

Please don’t get me wrong – I definitely want kids. Just not right now, and not that many. I don’t plan on taking fertility medicine, nor am I religious…so I think we’re all good.

I remember watching a show on TLC about a family with 17 kids. 17! How can you possibly give that many kids individual attention? Maybe I was spoiled, but having parents who had the time to actually acknowledge my existence was pretty fabulous. Apparently, their family is 17 strong (and counting!) because they believe that “each child is a special gift from God” and they are “thankful to Him for each one.” That’s lovely, but I’d like to go on record as saying that I’d be thrilled with a few less gifts. 1-3 gifts would be ideal…especially if one of those gifts turns out to mix a good cocktail.