I'm Not Celebrating This Year

I know, I know... How many more mopey posts am I gonna post? Even I'm tired of it all!

I just wanted to share that I didn't run Celebration Half-Marathon this year, and it sucks. 

Last year, I DNF'd the 11th Annual Celebration Half-Marathon, due to some pretty aggressive Plantar Fasciitis (and later discovered small heel spur). I was able to make it to Mile 6 before I finished and sagged to the Finish Line. 

I wallowed in that for a few months, and began to think that maybe halfs aren't my thing anymore. I'm closer to 50 than I am 40. Maybe I should pull back. I had a good run, over a decade of halfs under my belt. Almost 20! I never came to any final decision, though, just letting it hang out there, figuring that I'd feel one way or another by the time registration opened in October. 

And then... the whole Mystery Pain and Kidney Disease saga began, just a few months later. All of my time and energy was focused on him. I stopped taking care of myself. I stopped going to the gym and going for runs, hell, even going for walks. Other health issues came up, both for him and for me. Spring turned to summer and summer turned to fall. Soon, registration opened for Celebration. 

And with a heavy sigh, I deleted the email. I wasn't in the right mind-set or physical shape to start training for a half-marathon again. There were way too many other things on my plate that had to take priority over a silly race. I wasn't okay with that decision - it made me sad - but it was the best decision for me, in that moment. 

Fall turned to winter, and I began to miss the thought of doing Celebration. It's become such a thing that I just do every January. I felt listless, with nothing to prepare for, while at the same time, I was happy to not have to go out and do long runs every Sunday in the cold, when I was worried about other things. 

Really, to put it plainly, it's just been a weird-ass year. 

So, Race Day Sunday came and went. Thankfully, I didn't dwell on it too much, but there definitely was a yearning to be torturing myself for 13 miles in the central Florida sunshine! I looked up the weather, and it looked perfect (seriously, look at that photo)! 45º at the start, 66º at 11am, bright and sunshiny. (With my luck, if I do it in 2026, it will be 35º and rainy again!)

Random photo to show how perfect it was on Sunday!

But... it is what it is. I'm backsliding freakishly quick. I see it. I feel it. I definitely feel it, with my stiff muscles and increased heart rate and tighter pants. So what do I do? Is this the kick in the ass I actually need? Can I put myself first at any point, and rewire my brain to understand that taking care of me is necessary to take care of us? Can I get my willpower back and get my ass off the couch on a gym day? That's the hardest part, honestly... I've slipped all the way back to Fuck It territory, and I don't like it here. It's scary, but it's warm and it's comfortable and it has snacks. 

In the next few weeks, I'll be doing Gasparilla and Gate River Run; let's see how those both play out. Maybe that's the kick-start I need. 

Or maybe I'm delusional... Who knows?!?

Our Quiet Christmas, Full of Love and Snacks

 When things get difficult, wrap yourself with the love of the people who love you. Even if those people are suffering just as badly as you, it's better to suffer together than to suffer alone. 

Clover's Final Christmas

Our cat Clover was diagnosed with Lung Cancer just a few days after Thanksgiving, and we lost her on December 13. After her diagnosis, the vet gave her just a few days. I had a hole in my heart, and I told Hubby that I didn't even want to put up anything for Christmas - no tree, no candles, nothing. I wasn't feeling all that jolly. I sat with that idea for a day or so, but I knew that Clover truly loved Christmas, all the colors and flickering lights and cozy blankets and pillows to lay upon, and Hubby talked me into giving her one more bright and cozy Christmas before she left. She ended up spending the majority of her time laying on the shelf facing the tree, just content to look at the tree.  

After she passed, I thanked Hubby for talking me into decorating for Christmas, and both of us kind of realized that Christmas was less than two weeks away and neither one of us had done any shopping. I told him that I'd think of something, and that we just shouldn't do presents; he thought that was a good idea. We'd have a very quiet, reflective Christmas Eve, maybe just snuggle in bed all day watching Christmas movies and being supportive of each other when we randomly started to cry because we remembered something silly that Clover would do. 

But this got me going, and me being me, I started having some ideas in my head, playing off another idea that I'd already had for Mom's gift. I mean, if you were planning on staying in bed all day, wouldn't you want some snacks? So, what if I made each of us a little gift bag of our favorite snacks? Maybe our favorite drinks, too? And for a few days, I sat on that idea, nursing it, letting it grow. I tried to think of what is most favorite snacks are and where I could get them, or where to find some specific item. 

And then I went balls to the wall, lol. Because if you're gonna do it, you better do it BIG. 

I popped into Dollar Tree and picked up a few different containers to hold the snacks, and some supplies to wrap the basket. I picked up a few different options, but The Bucket ended up being what I needed! I used a piece of tape to hang a large Dollar Tree ornament on the outside of the bucket, to spruce it up a little bit. 

$2.50 for a 3-4 gallon bucket and decor

I went over to Hobby Lobby for other supplies (I was doing this idea for mom's gift, too; I'll share her basket at the bottom). I went to the grocery store. I went to Rural King for bottles of root beer. I hit up Circle K for giant Christmas Tree cakes and his favorite flavor of Mtn Dew. I went to Dollar General for a specific candy that I like, and another that Mom likes. I did a Wal-Mart grocery pick up for way too many more snacks. I even ordered more snacks online to be delivered, when I couldn't find them online! I'm sure I have receipts somewhere, but I must have spent $200 on these three baskets! 

Behold the immense pile of snacks!!!!

His Basket

Holy moly! Let's see if I can capture everything shown in that photo! Frito-Lay chips variety pack, Pringles, Famous Amos Cookies, Planter's Peanuts, Nabisco variety pack, Wonderful Pistachios, Emerald Cashews, Utz Snowballs, Ghirardelli Minis, Drake Devil Dogs, Giant Hershey Bars, Hershey Candy Cane Kisses, York Peppermint Patties, Banana Laffy Taffy, Cow Tales, Tootsie Rolls, Andes Mints, cookie cups, Combos, Cheetos variety pack (specifically to get the Snowflake-shaped puffs), Combos, Milk Duds, Sprecher's and Frostie Root Beer, Purple Thunder Mtn Dew, Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cakes, Hershey Kisses, Special Dark Kisses, Reese Thins, Hershey Hugs, Baby Ruth, Cinnamon Mentos, Milky Way Midnight, Golden Double Stuf Oreos, Nutter Butters, Powdered Donuts, Beef Jerky, and Rolos!

I proceeded to fill this bucket to the brim, almost overflowing! Heavy stuff (like bottles of root beer) on the bottom, and lighter stuff (like chips) on top. At first, I thought I was going to need filler (like crumpled up paper) at the bottom, but nope... this girl is stuffed from bottom to top! And once all the big stuff was in there, I sprinkled individual candies (like Kisses) across the top.

My Basket

I left them on the dining room table and just covered them with a blanket for the next day or so, because there was nowhere else to put them! I certainly couldn't put them under our tiny table tree, and since they were pretty see-through, I didn't want him peeping. 

So, Christmas Eve night comes around, and I ask him if we should do gifts tonight or tomorrow. He exclaimed we said we weren't gonna do presents! and I reminded him that I said I was going to come up with something. We decided to do them then, and I brought them over. I explained why I made them, we had a good little cry, and then bless his heart, he said... Go get your stocking. 

Huh? We said no presents!

This man, I swear. I love him dearly. Inside my stocking, I found two rolls of Rolos and a box of Milk Duds! 

His basket turned out better,
mine needed more cellophane overwrap

He said that he couldn't bear to let Christmas go by without getting me something. Because he loved me. 

We left our snack buckets (lol) on the table, cleaned up the house, and went to bed. We were able to sleep in and snuggle on Christmas Day (no toddlers to stare me awake anymore), until it was time to get up and start cooking. Mom came up around 11am for the day. She got both of us fuzzy jammies and some candy and a gift card. We gave her her Goodie Box, and she loved it! I had reached out to her sister and asked her to give me some ideas of what mom really loved to snack on, or what things she puts off buying because they're too expensive, or extravagant, or can't find. Mom's gift idea was borne out of the idea of treating her to an expensive type of protein shake she likes (about $5 a bottle), and I built the gift around that idea.

There's so much more in there than you can imagine!

Her basket included delicious treats like Bel-Vita, Orville Redenbacher Pour-Over popcorn, Drake's Devil Dogs, Emerald Cashews, Core Power Protein Shakes, Necco Wafers, Good & Plenty, Reese Big Cups, Pepperidge Farms Chessmen, a Whitman's Sampler (family tradition), Candy Cane Kisses, York Peppermint Patties, Ghirardelli Minis, and Diet Coke. All in a sturdy box from Hobby Lobby that can be reused (seriously, don't sleep on Hobby Lobby structured boxes!) 

Her oooohs and aaaahs when she looked at all the goodies made my heart grow two sizes... It's rare when I can surprise her with a really good gift anymore, so this was a big win! I'm sure she went home and shared it with her sister (they're roommates), and it'd be well-deserved, since she was so helpful for me. 

We had a great afternoon full of delicious food and fellowship, and I was sad when it was time for her to go home, because the house always feels a little quieter when guests leave, and now, with no kiddo and no kitty, it felt much quieter and much emptier. For the rest of the night, we relaxed in our own spaces, nibbling on leftover ham and candy and cookies and chips. 

It wasn't the best Christmas I've ever had, but it was the Christmas I needed, I think. I felt embraced and loved, both by my husband, and also by my mother just with her presence. My home felt warm and full of love, right when I needed it most. 

What is This Feeling...?

I haven't had to deal with grief for quite a while, and I will admit that the loss of our cat, Clover, has taken its toll on me. 

Clover Under the Christmas Tree, 2011

Clover passed away from lung cancer on Friday, December 13th. 

Since her diagnosis at the beginning of December, I've felt this cloud hovering over me, sucking the light and the joy out of everything around me. Why bother putting up the tree? Why bother making Christmas cookies? Why bother going Christmas shopping? I stopped caring about all of this, choosing to wallow in my sadness and pain, wrapping it around me like a blanket so that I can hide from the world. 

Image Credit: Can't Find Artist - Shout out if you know who it is! 

I'd put up our tiny Christmas tree and some decorations, because we wanted to make Clover's last Christmas as bright as it could be. But there was no joy in that for me. It felt like an obligation, going through the motions, because it was something that had to be done. I avoided Christmas music, because there was no joy in my heart to sing about. 

But what really brought me to my knees, and made me want to write this post was our employee Christmas party at work. I'm the person who is always on the party committees, who helps plan birthdays and baby showers and retirement parties, and yes, the Christmas party. I loved it, I was like the Monica Geller of the company. 

As I stood in the elevator at work a few days before Clover passed, I was actively MAD at the thought of a Christmas party. Like, how dare they all have fun while I am suffering with this sadness! I didn't want to go, but (like Monica), I'm a people pleaser, and the boss had closed the office for the party, so I had no good excuse not to go. 

As soon as I got there, I knew it was a mistake. Everything that I would normally love in other years, like laughing coworkers, or decorated spaces, or fun games, or someone winning Employee of the Year, I hated... I found myself scowling, like actually scowling, at people at my table. I buried my nose in my phone, blankly staring at a game of Solitaire, to avoid making eye contact with anyone. People would come talk to me and I'd be very short and curt with them, instead of being my typical outgoing self. Some people noticed, most didn't. None of them asked if anything was wrong.

But the straw that broke the camel's back was two-fold (two-strawed?)... I mentioned in a previous post that I was working on a huge project with a deadline. Our boss stood up and thanked my project teammate (from another department) for working so hard on that project. That's it. He didn't thank anyone else. Just Bob. Everyone clapped. Cool, let's eat. 

Even Clover can't believe that bullshit...

I was just so. fucking. done. I didn't care. I was probably a single conversation away from tears at that point - not from sadness, but from anger, and stress, and melancholy, and just all of it. I moved to a different table (closer to the door, so I could bolt at the first chance), and I was just bullshitting with Bob when our Big Boss came in for the typical glad-hand, look how awesome we are pep talk. I chatted with another person at the table, while Bob kept elbowing me. I turned to look at him (which was in direct eye-sight of the Big Boss) and said quietly, I don't fucking care about any of this shit, Bob right at the same time Big Boss thanked me for all of my hard work on the big project. It was like some scene out of a bad movie... I was pissed and seconds away from tears and I know damn well that the boss could read my lips, and yet everyone was turning around to look at me and clap for me...  All I could muster was a little wave and a smile. It turned out that Bob had gone over to the Big Boss and told her that I had done the lion's share of the project, and it wasn't right to not acknowledge that in front of everyone. 

I turned to my boss and said that I needed to get the hell out of there... She was aware of not only Clover's passing, but also all of the medical issues for the past six months, and could see that I was overwhelmed. I'm so thankful for her being so understanding. 

Later, when I got home, I had a small breakdown with hubby, trying to explain to him how I was feeling and how much I hated how I felt and how unfair it was, and after a good hug and cry session, we decided that we would skip gifts this year. Neither one of us are in the Christmas spirit, neither of us had done any shopping... We would just let this Christmas roll over us quietly, and just enjoy our day with my mother when she came over. No stress. Just family and love. I think that's exactly what we need. 

May we all find the level of peace enjoyed by a sleeping cat

...But That Time Has Come to an End

June 2010 - December 2024

She’s gone. 

Wednesday was really the turning point of going from A Cat with Cancer that Will Kill Her to being A Dying Cat. Hubby was home on Tuesday and Wednesday, so he spent both days in the living room with her. She was energetic enough to sit on the arm of the loveseat so that he could pet her.  

We took her to bed on Wednesday night, and after a few hours, she jumped down from the headboard and trotted over to the treadmill, and she looked like she was looking for a spot. Cat owners know what this means… Cats are very private creatures and look for places to die where they won’t be an inconvenience. So, we thought she was doing that. Hubby followed her around, but then she jumped up onto the shelf in front of the treadmill, where I had a stack of folded laundry. She proceeded to pee all over them. Honestly, I wasn’t even mad – we hadn’t seen her pee in forever! Once she was done, we just cleaned up after her and got her back to the bed. She didn’t have any issues after that, and both of us took turns throughout the night reaching out to pet her and check on her. 

Thursday was a terrible day, because Hubby and I both had to go to work, and Clover would be stuck home alone. Thankfully, we have an indoor security camera, so every so often, one of us would pull up the app and check on her (we did this previously throughout the past week, too). Her breathing was becoming so shallow that there were times when we couldn’t see her move at all. She was still with us when we got home, and as we ate dinner. We moved her to bed with us and watched TV for a few hours. 

I’d been asleep for maybe an hour when she fell off the headboard, right onto my head and shoulder. She scrambled down to the end of the bed and stayed there for a few minutes, gasping. Hubs and I woke up fully and calmed her down. Her blanket was wet (she must have peed again), as was my pillow and the foot of the bed. He swapped out to a fresh blanket while I took care of the pillow, and then got her set up again on the headboard. Within a few minutes, she fell again, right between our pillows. And she didn’t move. I put my hand on her chest and it wasn’t moving. 

She'd finally given in. 

Hubby, who had gone to get a fresh blanket for her, turned and saw how I was kind of leaning over the pillows, and said something like give me a minute and we can get her back up on the headboard and I said, no, I don’t think we need to. Even with my back to him, I could feel the weight of those words hit him, and he came around the bed to her. We pet her for a few minutes, thanking her for her life, and telling her that we’d miss her, and that she was such a good girl, and then he picked her up and took her to lay on her blanket by the living room window. 

Friday was miserable. He stayed home, using Bereavement Leave to stay home from work for the weekend. Unfortunately, I had to go in because there was so many things I had to do before a mega-important deadline. Clover was still on the blanket when I got up in the morning (of course... where else would she be?) and as I pet her, realism set in; she was already cold and stiff, really driving home that this was a dead cat, not a sleeping cat. 

It was hard to keep my head on straight as I worked on spreadsheets, but I was able to leave work early, getting home around 2. Hubs had covered Clover with a second blanket, tucked in like she was taking a little nap. We buried her in the side yard, near our bedroom, the opposite side of the property from where we buried Salem. We feel surrounded and protected by both of them. 

Christmas will be quiet and small and melancholy this year. But I’m so very thankful that hubby talked me into decorating. It was always a favorite time for her, and I can still feel her here, among the flickering candles and colorful lights of the tree. 

People who’ve not had pets, people who’ve never loved their pets as a member of their family, they can’t quite grasp how difficult this is, and even I, who love my pets, can’t quite grasp why this is this difficult. You want to shrug and say It’s just a cat but it’s not… They're so much more than just a pet. It’s 14 years of friendship and dead mice and snuggles and meows and stinky cat food and head butts and belly rubs and chases and scratches and purrs and finger licks and unconditional love. 

So as I said earlier, we will (one day) honor her memory by rescuing other cats, as we rescued her, but that won’t be right now. The pain is too real, too fresh… We need time to sit with our grief and feel our feelings and let them settle into a dullness, all the sharp edges rubbed off of them by time. 

Goodbye, my beautiful girl. 

You were such a loved and treasured part of this family, 

and your loss will be felt in innumerable ways within our home, 

now with empty windowsills and unprotected spaces. 

(ETA... I'm actually posting this on December 26th, because every time I come to post this, I just can't... It's like closing a door on her and finally letting go, and even 2 weeks later, I'm not ready to let go yet. I'm sitting here, typing with my eyes closed, with tears running down my face... I can't hit publish because that is the ultimate "It's Over" moment of this whole thing... This is probably the written  version of people who film themselves crying on TikTok, haha... but dammit, I just can't do it...)

Getting Stretched by a Stranger - Santa Suits on the Loose 5k 2024

Hello, and welcome to a very melancholy race report, brought to you by the letters D, E, A, T, and H. 

For those who may not know, our cat Clover was diagnosed with Lung Cancer a few days after Thanksgiving, and after giving a kitty middle-finger to the nurse who estimated she had a very short time left, she passed away on December 13. 

Yesterday. 

Over the past year, personally, I've been trying to get myself back into some semblance of a routine, and getting back to running and doing races. I signed up for Santa Suits on the Loose way back in the spring, so from that standpoint, this was the worst day for a race to be on for me. If Clover was still alive, there was no way I would have left the couch, but when I went to bed last night, I thought that this would be good for my mental health. I've been moping around the house a lot this year, because of Hubby's health issues, my own health issues, and then Clover's health issues. So, I decided to go and kind of force myself to be jolly. 

I drove out to St. Augustine (as always, leaving too early), and parked in my favorite spot. I put on some of my festive gear (like my cute skirt and my Christmas Tree hat), but I just felt like a faker. I walked around everyone else feeling like a robot. 

I honestly can't tell you anything that stood out from this race... There were cute dogs and babies and costumes and a marching band. But I have no funny stories, or random thoughts that I had at Mile 2. It was like I was just programmed to walk and think of nothing at all. And, in a way, I'm so thankful for that. It was an hour of not thinking, or feeling loss, or actually crying. I was able to just zone out and stop feeling at all. I didn't have to think about Clover. Or work. Or Christmas. Or anything. I simply existed to put one foot in front of the other (okay, Winter Warlock). 

On the upside, because I wasn't thinking about anything, I wasn't thinking about how far I was walking, or how long it was taking, so I kind of just "arrived" at the finish line without realizing it'd been an hour! I picked up my medal and a bottle of water, and a few snacks. 

As I was walking around, heading back to my car, I saw that there were a few tables set up, for what I assumed was massage, but then realized it was for a company called Stretch Zone. Usually after races, these types of services are either busy because they're free, or empty because you have to pay. These were free and they were empty! So yeah, you bet I walked over there! After a short chat with the employee, telling him that I usually felt pain in my upper external calves and lower external hamstrings after a race, he moved ahead with a full lower-body routine. I figured that this would be more akin to a quickie chair massage, but I was on this man's table for at least 20 minutes! He stretched my leg up toward my head, out (like a straddle), in across my body, bent my knee and shoved my foot toward my tushie, rotated my knee out like a frog... There was a lot that he did, and holy shit, it all felt so good... well, as good as it can with my jacked-up muscles. He said that my hip flexors were severely tight (no, you don't say?!) and that I should work on them at home. As I got myself back together, I thanked him for his stretching, saying that I'd never experienced an actual stretching session before. He reached into a box and pulled out a Goodie Bag for me! He said that there was some swag in there, as well as a gift card, and took a photo of me for social media (I wonder if they'll use it, lol). Back in the car, I checked out my goodies, which included a container of Tic-Tacs, some lip balm, and y'all... a $50 gift certificate to the local Stretch Zone! Yeah, they're probably really expensive then, right? Nah, I don't think so. I looked them up later, and they look to cost about $100 for an hour-long session, so basically, it's half-price. I plan on using it soon, next time I'm in St. Augustine (maybe after Gate River Run in March... that's only an hour's drive south). They also have something called a Flex Membership, that is $100/month that includes two stretches per month, with the ability to pay a smaller fee for extra stretches. Honestly, $50 is about what I spend for my massages... And I found out that they have a Stretch Zone in the city I live in! I'm really wondering if it's beneficial to get me limbered up to a point that I can take over and fix myself the rest of the way... 

Anyway, after a delicious stretch, I headed over to Culver's for lunch, picked up some groceries at Aldi, then headed home. I felt a little better by the time I got home, but when I parked and didn't see Clover in the window, I remembered that she was gone, and it just hit me all over again. I went inside and snuggled with hubby for a while then had dinner and went to bed early. Today helped a little, but not nearly as much as I wanted it. 

ETA: I don't think it fixed as many of my mental issues as I thought it did... I kind of had a little meltdown about a week after this post... Not my finest day, but a totally understandable one. 

Well, Maybe There's a *Little* More Time?

We must have an Energizer cat, you guys… She just kept on keepin’ on!

For the past few days, she’s been the Queen of the Castle, curled up on her warm blanket by the window, just existing. For the most part, her breathing is the same, but if she tries to groom or rearrange, she’ll get tired and out of breath easily, which means she ends up gasping for air because  she can’t keep up. 

We’ve been able to snuggle with her a few times, and it’s so hard to feel her this way. She’s so bony and skinny. She’s so lethargic and weak. She’s a shell of the bright and energetic cat she was just a few months ago. 

Over the weekend, I told Hubby that I didn’t even want to do anything for Christmas; no lights or tree or anything like that, and he talked me into it, because Clover has always loved the lights and the candles and how magical the house was this time of year. So our tiny tree is out, and some of the candles, and he was absolutely right to talk me into this. Since I put the tree up, Clover spends the majority of her time facing the tree. It kind of makes everything feel normal, both for her and for us, and we’ve been spending a lot of time in the living room with her, just reading or zoning out. She deserves to be surrounded by love and family, instead of dying slowly alone while we chill in our own individual spaces staring at a computer. 

Last night, we began taking her to bed with us; we put a cozy blanket up on the headboard that will keep her scrawny body warm and comfortable, and she’s content to watch over us and protect us, as best she can, while we sleep. 

I don’t know how much more time she has, but I have my doubts that she will make it to the weekend (it's currently Wednesday, December 11th). Her breathing has become much more labored. She’s not eating. She’s not drinking. She’s simply existing at this point. We’ve begun telling her that she’s brave, and that she doesn’t have to fight, and that she can go, and I’m hopeful that she understands what that means, and goes soon… watching her struggle is breaking my heart. 

You Always Think There's More Time

After our previous cat passed away 20 years ago, I didn't think that I wanted another cat. Salem (said previous cat) hated me - he'd pee on my side of the bed, an hour or two before bed time so that when I got in bed, it was not only wet, but cold, too. 

But in 2010, just a few days after my mother-in-law passed away (a notorious Cat Lady herself), I started hearing little niggles in the back of my head, it's time to get a cat, get a cat, you want a cat, go get a cat. I started 'shopping' the websites of local shelters, seeing what cats were out there, and if any of them called to me. There was a beautiful black Bombay in our local animal shelter, and that was the cat that I wanted. 

He didn't want me, though! When I went to go see him, he turned his nose up at me, walked to the back of his cage, and ignored me the entire time I was there. Defeated, I went home. A few hours later, with husband and kiddo in tow, we went back to the shelter to look for a different cat. There, over in cage #7, was this quiet little black and white shorthair kitten just peeping at us from behind the door. I don't think that she was there earlier in the day, or I would have remembered her. She didn't meow super-loud, or swipe at me, or anything. She just made quiet eye contact, and I knew, I just knew, this was My Cat. We adopted her immediately, left her there so she could be spayed (she was only a few months old) and we brought her home a few days later. 

Lucky #7, she found her Forever Home 

I can't even remember her being so small

She settled in and grew to be a very stoic, quiet cat. She was never a Cuddly Cat, or a Lap Cat, or a Vocal Cat. She was a Protector; she would always position herself in the home where she could see where all three of us (and later, just the two of us) were at all times, and usually between us and the front door. She would stay in the living room at night and sleep on top of the love seat so she could assess the inside and outside situations and keep watch. She has led a very peaceful life here for 14 years. 

One of the very rare times she spent time in my home office

She much preferred the sunshine and comfort of the windowsill

Over the past few months, Clover has been dealing with a recurring infestation of fleas. We think that the neighborhood feral cats have been the cause of this… Clover likes to go outside when she can sneak by us and let the grass tickle her belly. I would assume that the stupid fleas come in on our shoes and socks and pants legs when we walk from the car to the house. And once they’re in, they’re a bitch to get rid of! We’ve had to bathe her a few times, and give her some Capstar pills (amazing magical pills!). 

Throughout all of this, Clover continually retreated to her Safety Space, on the living room windowsill. Over the past few weeks, it seemed like she was still having a hard time. She’d fall asleep on the windowsill (in her quest to stay away from the fleas) and end up toppling over and landing on the bookshelf underneath. She landed on my plants enough times that I had to move them. It got to the point (it seemed) that she was so addicted to her safety space that she was refusing to even come down for food. The whole time, we’d kept an eye on her and it seemed that – besides the anxiety – she was doing okay. She’s suffered from anxiety before, so this wasn’t really anything new.

 

She loved these window sheers; it was like her hiding space

About two weeks ago, though, we noticed that she was “coughing,” similar to trying to get rid of a hairball, but with no puking sounds. She didn’t do it but once or twice a day, so we just kept an eye on her and gave her extra snuggles. Last week, her ‘coughing’ got worse, to more like three or four times a day, and we noticed that she was breathing heavily, even when just laying down. I also began to notice how slight she was… She’s always been a big cat (topped out at 18lbs at one point), but I could feel her spine and hip bones, and I began to worry. I weighed her and she was under 10 pounds. When we put it altogether (the Safety Space, the lack of appetite, the trouble breathing), we realized that something was really wrong and that it was time for a vet visit. 

Internally, I thought it’d be something simple, like bad teeth that didn’t allow her to eat solid food, or complications from the stupid fleas. 

Oh, how I wish it was that. 

After we told the vet all of the problems, they kept her to do some bloodwork, a physical exam, and an x-ray. Even as we drove home, we were both tentatively optimistic that it would be something easily fixable. 

And then the vet called. 

Clover is anemic, but worse… her lungs are full of nodules, and there is fluid in her chest cavity surrounding her lungs. 

She has Lung Cancer. 

The irony is not lost on me. I quit smoking three years before she was even born. I always worry that I will die of lung cancer. But no… my cat is going to die of Lung Cancer. 

There’s not enough fluid in her chest to risk draining it (too stressful for her, in her current condition), and with her history of heart murmurs, there’s no reason to chance it. There’s nothing that an Oncologist can do for her. There’s no medications that can fix her. 

I was given the suggestion that it will happen soon, probably within a week. They suggested putting her to sleep, of course, even saying that it could be done that day, but we opted not to; we wanted to bring her home to pass on here, where she would be safe and loved and cuddled. 

I thanked her for the call and then had to compose myself to go tell Hubby the news. This is a man that feels all the feelings, and feels them so strongly, that I knew this was going to be difficult for him. And it was. I told him what the vet told me and we both had a good cry, then put on our game faces and went to get our baby. I told him that he needed to keep his shit together for the both of us, because I couldn’t be bawling while we drove down the road. 

Thankfully, he was able to stuff it down, but as we drove, I just had tears rolling down my face. I was doing my best to keep it together and not outright bawl, but then I’d think… she’ll never drive down this road with us again, she’ll never smell all the smells in this area, she’ll never be scared of the big truck over here. This was her last car trip home. 

At the vet, we had to wait about 15 minutes for the vet to come out to us, and for safety reasons, we had to do the one thing that she hates the most… we had to put Clover in her cat carrier. Over her 14 years, we’ve only used the carrier for emergencies (she hates boxes and enclosed spaces), but the vet was adamant. As soon as we were in the car, we pulled her out and deposited her right on Hubby’s legs, as that is how she prefers to ride. 

Any time she was in the car, she rode like royalty

She was relatively perky on the way home, big eyes full of wonder, looking around at all the things, smelling all the smells, just like always. She ambled out of the car and took her sweet time walking through the yard, feeling the brown grass on her belly and nibbling on the fallen leaves. Once inside, she was able to hop up onto the arm of the loveseat right near the door so that we could take off her harness and leash while Hubby turned on the heating pad we’d set up for her, under a fluffy blanket. We got a tube of Delectables (what we lovingly call “Cat Gogurt”) and squeezed it out onto a plate for her, and she was able to eat that while laying down (we gave her some regular wet food a few hours later and she’s eaten that, too). 

We had to break the news to The Kiddo, and she took it much better than expected. Maybe because she was at work or only half-awake, I don’t know. It’s hard to break bad news over text message, but that’s how The Kidz do things these days. I feel that, in a few days, when we tell her that Clover has passed, it will hit her for real. 

So now it’s been a few hours since she’s come home and Clover is the Queen of the Castle on her big fluffy blanket atop a heating pad, with food delivered directly to her on one of my “good plates” that we only use for holidays. I think this is an absolutely acceptable exception to that rule. We tried to pick her up to snuggle, but that made it harder for her to breathe, so we can only pet her and love on her while she lays down. 

There is a heating pad tucked under the blanket she's laying on

I honestly don’t know if she’ll make it through the weekend (today is Tuesday, December 3rd). I have two hopes, and they are at war with each other… One hope is that she passes while both of us are here with her, so that she doesn’t die alone, that she passes on surrounded by love, and that he and I can grieve together. But the other hope is that she passes while Hubby is at work, so that he will be spared the final moments of emotional pain, or that she passes while we are both asleep, so that he will not have to bear witness to her last moments as she gasps for air and finally gives up… No matter what happens, I hope that she just drifts away and passes in her sleep peacefully, with no pain or stress or fear. 

And after she passes, we will bury her beneath the same tree that we buried Salem, almost 20 years ago, where she can be nearby to protect us, to watch over us, and to know that we will forever love her. 

You Never Stop Being a Parent, Even When They Leave

The Kiddo™ moved out back in 2021, and has been living her best life in the frozen North ever since. She's had some rough patches - I think we all had some rough patches when we were just starting out, right? But she hit a nasty rough patch a few months ago, and it really sunk in for us that you never stop being a parent, even when they grow up and leave your house. 

I got a phone call the day after my birthday... A trembling, crying, snot-filled voice asked, Mommy, can I come home? Oh, how does your heart not break when you hear that pain in your child's voice??? 

The very first thing I said was of course! followed by what's happening, what's wrong? Between the tears and the snot-sucking, and the deep sighs, I was able to put together that her two roommates had been slowly and secretly moving out over the past few months! Her two roommates were partners, and one of them was going to college. Because that campus was a little bit of a distance away, and they had a shitty car, they would often bunk with some other friends for a few days and come back to the main apartment on the weekends. Because The Kiddo works part-time, mid-shift (after lunch until 10pm or so), much of this secretive moving was happening while she was at work. Finally, a few weeks ago, they came out and admitted that they were moving out for good, and that they'd try (try?!) to help The Kiddo pay all the bills and make the transition easy for her. 

Yeah, that didn't happen. 

And so she was unable to pay all of the $1000 rent due on September 1st. Late fees piled on for three days ($10/day), and on September 4th, the landlord sent her a Notice to Vacate, giving her five days to either pay the remaining rent get out. We started talking about how we could possibly pay her rent for this month, and then what we'd need to do to get us up there to pack her up and move her back to Florida. 

So while I was on the phone, Hubby was next to me on his tablet looking up as much info as we could find. First and foremost, Wisconsin law states that this five days' notice did not include weekends, so The Kiddo had until September 10th to comply, or eviction processes would begin... She wouldn't be kicked out at that point, but only that legal steps would begin. Okay, so a little breathing room. Dangerously shaky breathing room, but some breathing room nonetheless. She had a paycheck coming on September 9th, but not enough to cover all of the rent. Next up, Hubby was googling all sorts of things like United Way, 211, food stamps, rental assistance, etc, and I was giving her all sorts of suggestions to look for (including the places above). Overwhelming her, I'm sure, but lots of go look for this or go look for that suggestions. We talked for an hour and then she had to go back to work. Once we were off the phone I shared all of this information with her via a Google Keep note, including all links we found, so that she could access them when she got out of bed the next day. 

We cleaned up dinner (that neither of us ate very much of) and went to bed. My brain was still going a mile a minute, and I'm looking up prices of U-Hauls, rental cars, flights, etc. Hubby came to bed and we snuggled for a few minutes and I just lost it, like big, ugly, juicy sobbing. With everything else that's going on, WHY!? Why NOW?!? I just blubbered over and over, I'm so tired, I'm so fucking tired, I just can't anymore... But once that passed, Cold & Calculating Me came back on-line and we started making plans on an Emergency Road Trip to Wisconsin. How to afford to do this. When to do this. Would we need to, in turn, call my mommy for help (she'd help in a heartbeat, I know she would). Over the next few days I came up with the bones of a plan. We'd rent a huge SUV (like a Suburban) and drive up to Wisconsin, pack up her shit, and move her home. U-Hauls would carry her stuff but not 3 people. Cars would carry 3 people but not her stuff. I really didn't want to spend $1000 on a trailer hitch that I'd never use again, just to rent a U-Haul trailer. And I didn't want to drop way too much money on airline tickets (I think the cheapest I could find from our home airport was $1200) and still have to rent an SUV to drive home. We'd have to go the last weekend of September to accommodate a work conference I needed to attend. We'd need to work our asses off the next three weeks to clean out her room (that had become The Room Where Stuff Goes to Die, like a junk room). 

A week later, we had a phone call to touch base with her, and I was so proud of her, hearing how she was taking charge of the situation! She'd reached out to a lot of resources, and even though they couldn't help (do safety net entitlements really ever help the people they should help?), we at least knew they weren't an option and could cross them off the list. She'd taken a lot of initiative and I could hear some new-found confidence in her voice. She listed the now-vacant room on a few roommate-finder websites and had a possible roomie coming in November - that won't help the we need to pay rent in October situation, but will help after that. She was adamant that she wanted to stay in Wisconsin, instead of moving back to Florida, so we shifted our focus on getting her home, to getting her stable. 

The following week, with another check-in call, she asked if it were possible that we could help with half of her rent to get her through October 31. She'd been working hard to secure that roommate (still ETA November). She was able to get her employer to bring her up to Full Time hours, so she'll be making twice as much per month. She also worked with the horrible roommates to get the internet and electric services swapped over to her name (without swapping over any of their overdue balances!), and she got her new Wisconsin state ID (yes, she'd been in WI for three years with an expired Florida ID, yeesh). At risk of jinxing it, it's starting to feel like she's going to be standing back up on her own soon (knock on wood!), hopefully by the end of the year. 

At the beginning of October, we paid half of her rent, which was definitely painful for our bank account, too, and honestly, I'm still reeling from paying out about $2000 over the past few months, when we're not having a whole lot coming IN (thanks to Hubby being out sick so much)... At our check-in call, she said she felt like she was slowly getting a hold on the situation. She ran some numbers and realized that her new full-time paycheck will cover so much more, and she may be able to stay in the apartment without a roommate! Now, granted, she neglected to add in the non-bills, but her rent, electric, internet, and phone would only be around $1500 a month, and she should be bringing in about $2000, which will leave her $500 for groceries, bus fare, Ubers, etc. 

So at this point, at the end of October, she called us last night for one more check-in, and she sounded so much lighter! There was no stress in her voice, she sounded almost happy... Like, she knows that there's still a bit of a hill to climb, to pay us back and save extra, and figure out how to live as a single woman without roommates (the November roommate may not be happening now). She's also thinking that she wants to move once winter is over; she doesn't like where she is (never has, really), and thinks that having a roommate will allow her to save a bunch of money (better to pay $500/month rent than $1000/month!). That's something to worry about in the Spring, I suppose. 

But for right now, my baby is safe and secure. She's not surrounded by shitty roommates who are rude and lazy and selfish and possibly mental. She can focus on living her life the way she wants to live it, maybe discover who she is and who she wants to be, out from under the stressful conditions she was living in previously. 

I'm so proud of her. My daughter from 10 years ago would never have been strong enough to do the work, face the hard times, and make the difficult decisions that this daughter has. She's grown into a capable adult who knows how to rise above a flood and fix things. It's truly amazing to see years and years of difficult parenting result in a wonderful human like her. 

Y'all, go hug your kids today. Especially if they're tweens and teens... those are some hard years to parent, and hard years to show affection. Hug them. Laugh with them. Tell them they're awesome. Small things like this now will yield amazing results down the road. 

The Saga of the Chronic Kidney Disease... and some Abdominal Pain (Part 6 - October 2024)

If you've missed any parts of this saga, you can catch up with the links below:

Part 1 (April & May)

Part 2 (June)

Plus   (Baby's First Coloscopy)

Part 3 (July)

Part 4 (August)

Part 5 (September)

Hello, and welcome to Month Six of trying to nail down causes for Hubby's Left Lower Quadrant pain (LLQ) and Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD2). 

When typing up a previous month's post, I needed to look up the type of magnesium he was taking for his insomnia, and there just happened to be a Google result about magnesium saying that low magnesium levels - hypomagnesemia - could result in muscle pain, which may be a reason for that mysterious LLQ. I asked Dr. L to add a test for mag levels in his next round of labs. 

He was supposed to return for a follow-up with the Urologist on October 7th (which had already been rescheduled from October 4th, since we were supposed to be out of town), but we were also out of town on the 7th. I called them Friday morning, but only got their voice mail, so I left a voice mail that we needed to reschedule... As of today (the day before Halloween), we never received a call-back to reschedule the appointment, so frankly, we're just gonna let it go. It's highly unlikely that any of his problems are urology-related, so why bother dropping a $75 copay to be told nope, nothing wrong with you here. We got the result of the FISH test, which was negative for any cancer. The cytology report from his Peeper View was negative for urothelial carcinoma. Benign urothelial and squamous cells present. Red blood cells, crystals, and polymorphonuclear leukocytes {white blood cells that fight infection and inflammation} were present. 

The following week, he got his lab work done, and unfortunately (well, fortunately), his magnesium levels are fine, so it doesn't look like hypomagnesemia is an issue. Normal mag levels are between 1.5 and 2.8 milligrams per deciliter, and he's almost right in the middle at 2.0 mg/DL. 

Everything else was relatively steady - no drastic changes. His eGFR (Estimated Glomerular Filtration Rate) is bouncing a little bit. An eGFR is a test that measures the level of kidney function and determines the state of Kidney Disease. It is calculated from the results of a blood creatinine test, in conjunction with age, body size, and gender. 

The lower the eGFR, the worse your kidneys are functioning, and there is risk for Chronic Kidney Disease to progress to Kidney Failure. Right now, Hubby is in the low end (high end?) of Stage 2, kidney damage with mild loss of function, with 60-89% of kidney function.  Once you get to less than 15% eGFR, you are in active Kidney Failure, and that's when things like Dialysis and Transplant come in. It is important to remember that eGFR does decline with age, so a low eGFR in an older person doesn't always mean CKD. But hubby's only 50... he's not "an older person" quite yet. 

Things got a little testy at his October follow-up on the 22nd though. She reviewed all of his labs. His eGFR went up a smidge, to 66% (they've been between 71% in May 2023 and 61% in September 2024). eFGR can't really be fixed... Diet and exercise won't cure him and bring him back up to 100%. But things can be done to to slow down the damage, or stop it altogether. Diet, exercise, medications, lowering blood pressure, etc. Dr. L shared the results of the Natera DNA test - he is genetically predisposed to Cystinuria, a rare condition in which stones made from an amino acid called Cystine form in the kidneys, ureter, or bladder. Cystine is formed when to molecules of this acid are bound together. This condition is passed down through families, inheriting the variant from both parents. About 1/7000 people have Cystinuria. Most peoples' bodies simply deal with the cystine, but those with Cystinuria will deal with build-up that creates crystals or Cystine Stones. Some people experience Flank Pain in the side or back, often on one side. Pain could be felt in the pelvis, groin, genitals, or between the upper abdomen and back. To keep those stones from forming, you should drink 6-8 glasses of water a day, including at night (to pee at night to keep the pipes clean). Making the urine more alkaline may help to dissolve crystals, which can be done via potassium citrate or sodium bicarbonate {eating less salt can also help}. This is a chronic, lifelong condition, and without any treatment or diet changes, these crystals or stones commonly return. Chronic Kidney Disease is a possible complication of Cystinuria.

Dr. L doesn't think that the Cystinuria is solely responsible for the CKD, but it's good to know. Because of the lack of "good news" in the gene panel, she stated that the next step needs to be a Kidney Biopsy. And as soon as she said that, I could see Hubby just shut down. His body language completely changed, crossing his arms, crossing his ankles, tucking his neck down, clenching his jaw, and just shaking his head. I don't understand why this is such a No-Go for him, especially after all of the other things he's dealt with in the past few months. Is it a needle thing? Is it a pain thing? I don't know... I'm hopeful that I can talk him in to it, but he put up a stone wall and there's no way to break through to this obstinate SOB when he gets like that. I love him, but when he digs in, he DIGS IN.  

I asked Dr. L if we could simply maintain for six months and see what happens, like... let's not do follow-ups every month, let's not continue to throw biopsy around, let's just live our life for the next few months and see what happens. My plan is to do all the other stuff (that we already should have been doing, to be honest): change up the diet, increase exercise, get him to drink more water, etc. She tried to plead her case with him, reviewing all of his labs and explaining why it's important, what will happen if his eGFR gets too low, but he wasn't having any of it. 

So for right now, we're going to put the idea of a biopsy on the shelf for the rest of the year, and we'll work on all the other things, which frankly will be harder to deal with! Lord I have a fight in front of me, but I'm going to get him to take his meds daily, check his blood pressure twice a week, get him taking a walk at least once a week (hopefully more), get a better diet, and get him to drink two bottles of water per day. It's gonna suck, and I'm going to get extremely frustrated with him, but I'm out of options. He's decided that his health isn't a priority, but I'm not ready to give up. By the end of the visit I was so fucking frustrated, I just shut down... I had tears in my eyes as we walked back to the car. He ended up behind me, and I don't know if that's because he was having some emotions to deal with, or if it was because I was just so shut down that I was walking faster than I normally did. Either way was fine with me, he didn't need to see my tears. 

We picked up lunch at Chick-fil-A and brought it home with us, not saying much during the drive, or at home either. Usually, he'll come in to my office every so often for a visit hug, but I think he only came around once. I didn't make dinner, since I was still full from CFA, but make a little plate of cheese and crackers and took it to bed with me early. I zoned out and binged Hulu for hours, hoping to shut off my brain and fall asleep, but no such luck. When I finally turned off the TV around 11:30, my brain went right to the What If... scenarios, and I lost it and just cried. Around midnight, I curled up with X for a while, hoping it would numb my brain and make me sleepy, but still no luck. After about a half-hour I put my tablet away, and I think I probably fell asleep around 2am. 

The next morning, October 23rd, I'm still frustrated and emotional and sad and pissed, but I guess I now have a mission. I need to create a plan for him to follow to get all of that diet/exercise/med stuff done. And I'm probably gonna have to be a bitch about it. And he's gonna push back because he's obstinate. And we're gonna yell at each other because we're emotional. And we're gonna both have hurt feelings because we love each other. But I don't fucking care. Because I have to care for both of us, since he doesn't give a shit about his health. I mean, if his eGFR dropped from 71 in May of 2023, to 66 in October 2024, he'll be in dialysis by 2034. 

So, at this point, I think I'm going to put a pause on the monthly updates, unless something crazy happens. We set up a three-month follow up with Dr. L for January to see what's happening, and I'll check in with you guys at that point to let you know what's happening. I'm hopeful that in that time, he'll at least have a normal blood pressure, and no loss of eGFR.