17 April 2008

bright sun, dull roar

And she had seemed so well last week.

Uni took a turn for the worse a few days ago. (I already hate how familiar this all is. Someday soon I would like to write a HAPPY, GOOD NEWS entry on the Spiral Life.)

…I started writing a whole long description of what’s been going on but… sigh. Suffice it to say I’ve consulted three doctors now, one in an emergency room yesterday, and she has pain relief now but tonight it’s clear to me that we have to let her go. Mark is trying to fly back from LA, and I will try to nurse her as best I can until Monday, but Monday afternoon at the latest, we will say good bye.

There, the white noise of my heart breaking.

And still, she is so good and beautiful.

13 April 2008

nine lives

There is much speculation as to where the notion that "a cat has nine lives" originated. Some say it was in ancient Egypt; others belive it's China. Interestingly, the Arabic proverb only gives a cat seven lives, while others mostly gives nine, presumably because of the number's mysticism (my favorite number, because who can argue with magic?).

All I know is -- I wish the proverb were true.

It started with a little bit of weight loss. Uni used to be slightly heavier than Sumi, but a few months ago, I noticed they'd switched a bit. But, Sumi always fluffs up over the winter (she's Siberian, most likely) and I didn't think much of it. Then, after being in Japan for three weeks in February/March, I swept Uni up into my arms -- and her lightness shocked me.

Blood tests followed; the vet declared "great news all around," all her organ functions were like a one-year-old's (she's nine) -- except, well, there's a chance there's something hard to detect going on there. We could do an ultrasound, or do another weigh-in in two weeks. I decided to wait.

Eight days later, we went in for the weigh-in. She seemed smaller and weaker every night, and I just knew something was wrong. This time, not only was she lighter, but the doctor thought she might have tachycardia, an unusually fast heartbeat (even for being at the vet). We immediately scheduled an ultrasound with the specialist.

The chest ultrasound was clear. But in the abdomen -- they saw that her kidneys were both atrophied, because of tiny growths spread around her mesenteric lymph nodes.

Most likely, it's cancer, and it's inoperable.

"Most likely" because to biopsy these growths would require invasive and specialized surgery, after which we may have a diagnosis but still no way to remove the little suckers.

So... anyway... there it is. She's taking Prednisone, a steroid that acts like chemo for cats, curbing the growth of the tumors, stimulating her appetite and supporting muscle growth. Funny thing is I'd just written about them for work, in a story about a woman who was taking Prednisone as part of her lupus medication... At least, for Uni, they've made a huge difference in her appetite. As in, now she can eat.

"We'll know more in the next 30 days," the doctor said. And when I mentioned that we might be moving in June -- "June is a long way off."

I used to think about how I'd console our kids when she passed away, 10 years from now. And now we're talking about June? This year?

I picked her out of the litter when the couple who rented me my very first solo apartment in Los Angeles had a cat who'd just given birth.

That also happened to be exactly when my mother was first diagnosed with stomach cancer, 9 years ago.

My... "experience" with Uni now shadows what happened with my mother, in many ways. How small and frails she's become, even while her spirit and beauty remain. How she struggles to eat, and tires in a way she never did before. How she yet provides me more comfort and pure joy.

How precious even the tiniest touch becomes.

The universe has a way of guiding us, encouraging us to grow. I can't help wonder if Uni came into my life to help me through from the time cancer hit my mother to now, a year after her death, when I must begin the *real* process of grieving, which I haven't really done yet. Now, I can do it with my girl, my best feline friend. And already, I know that when our time is up -- whenever that may be, and wherever she may go -- my mother will be there to love her too.

10 April 2008

more pot metaphors

A watched pot does not boil. (Actually, it does. But it takes longer than normal.)*

A watched email inbox does not receive new messages. (Like, from the Santa Monica broker.)

(And let's not go to the watched uterus.)

What else doesn't happen when you watch it? Chime in!

*scientifically unproven. far as I know.

05 April 2008

to choose or not to choose

Update on the Venice location: the grease interceptor problem looks to be fine. Mark and Elliot met with an engineer last week and they've basically figured it out. (Times like this, it helps enormously that Elliot is, among *many* other things, a petroleum engineer!!) Now, the ball is once again in the owner's court, as they work out a few more terms on the agreement. And assuming that goes through -- the next step is to actually sign the lease. Gulp.

BUT, there's that other pot on the stove: the second location, also on the West Side -- in Santa Monica. This is the one that is currently a restaurant (greasy Chinese fast food), and it's also a great location, with ample parking, AND cheaper rent to boot. So after looking at it and conducting many an interview with passersby and local vendors, M&E have put in an offer on that place as well... and expect to hear back by Wednesday.

If the counteroffer is good, then we'll be in a terrific position to make a choice. One of the major considerations, of course, is cost -- the price difference on renovations alone will be at least $70,000. And if there IS no choice, we'll move ahead with the Venice location. The tricky part, of course, is the timing -- if we get a decent counteroffer from the Santa Monica broker, and want to see where the negotiations go, while talks with Venice get to a point where we've got to sign it or drop it.

It's like dating. You've got your first impressions. Then comes the talking. You hit it off. Then you find out a few things, like the guy's got a grease interceptor problem, and you also start wondering if he's talking to someone else. Meanwhile, you meet this other guy who's a little rougher around the edges, but you see the potential, and go out for a coffee or even a drink -- hoping it's still a while before you have to really, really choose. Or -- whether you're going to have a choice at all.

I'm not packing any boxes yet. But, Mark is back (thank god, mwa) and he claims he's going to build a bunch and fill them up before he jets back to LA again. If he does -- maybe I'll help.