My Diary: Needles and Pills

      by

      Ceilidh Flurrydance

      (Final update: January 11, 1999)

      In June 1998, just a few days after my 12th purrday which was on June 2, I was diagnosed with intestinal lymphosarcoma--that's a kind of cancer. I didn't know how scary that was, but Sherry my Hoomin thought it was furry scary indeed. And it turned out that it wasn't much fun. So after a while, I decided I should keep a diary to help remember alla things that happened. Evidently lymphoma is a cancer that lotza kitties git, and Siamese kitties espeshully (I know that being Siamese is furry speshul, but I could not bother wif this bit of speshulness real easy!). If you know somekitty who has this disease, or something else bad, at the end of this page I've put some links to some interesting websites my hoomin and I found while we were trying to learn about what I had and what we could do.  But I guess I should start at the beginning.

      (If you don't want to start at the beginning, you can just jump to whatever month you want.)


      June 1998
      July 1998
      August 1998
      September 1998
      October 1998
      November 1998
      Santa Claws
      December 1998
      January 1999

      ..

      June 1998

      The Beginning
      (June 13, 1998)

      Early in June of 1998, one Saturday alla us at Bitterroot Manor (my bestest frend Skye Silversong, Talisker Pippin, and me, Ceilidh (say KAY-lee) Flurrydance) had to see TED (Thuh Evil Doctor) for our regular check-ups and shots.  We don't like this very much, because we git put in itty bitty carrier cages and haf to ride inna metalmonster car furefur an efur (typist note: 6 blocks). Then TED pokes us and prods us an sticks fings where they shudn't efur be stuck. It's no fun an we protest atta top of our voices thuh whole way.

      This time it was just the same as always.  Except it was different.  Because when TED MaryKay felt around my tummy (and she has reel nice soft hands so that part isn't too bad), she got a strange look on her face, and said, "Oh Sherry" (that's my hoomin's name) -- "Oh, Sherry, this cat has a big mass in her abdomen." And then Sherry my Hoomin got a wurried look on her face too.

      So TED MaryKay poked and prodded me some more. She asked how I'd been acting, whether I'd been eating and pooping OK (of course I had! like it's ennybody's bizzness but mine!), and she said I'd lost weight since my last exam. I'd lost one and a half pounds in a year and a half. I weighed 9 pounds, which I thought was a very nice weight. Not as fluffy as 10 pounds, but a nice solid weight. Then she took me into another room to see another TED, and when she came back, she said that yes, there was a big mass in my abdomen, and while there were several things they could do to see what it was (they talked about x-rays and aspirayshuns, which didn't sound good), probably what would tell them the most was Exploratory Surjery. Sherry my hoomin had wet eyes and was acting really strange, but I heard her make an appointment to bring me back on Monday for an operashun. I didn't much like the sound of that, but since we went back home as soon as she'd made that appointment, I didn't say much. (I didn't get any needles that time, either, though both Skye and Tally did -- TED MaryKay said that wif the operashun coming up, I shouldn't have anything else to stress my system, so I didn't need booster shots -- I didn't mind that part at all, but looking back, I fink maybe needles would have been better.)

      All that weekend Sherry my Hoomin petted me and talked to me and sang to me. She had wet eyes a lot. Sometimes you just have to humor your hoomins.

      .

      My Operashun
      (June 15, 1998)

      Then on Monday, I got picked up again and stuck inna carrierbag again, and off we went to TED again. This time I hadda stay. They gave me needles (hissssspit) and I got very sleepy, and when I woke up I was still sleepy and didn't feel too good. My tummy was naked an there was a big cut innit. Wif strings holding the edges together. I was in a cage inna back room at TED's and there were other kitties there and d*gs and hoomins in TED outfits, but I really didn't notice them very much. I was tired and hurt and just didn't want to move. I think I was there for a while, maybe even a few days. Every now and then Sherry my Hoomin would come to my cage door and she'd open it and pet me and talk to me and sing to me. She would look at my tummy and say it looked like they'd cut the Grand Canyon in me. She kept having wet eyes a lot.

      They didn't know I was listening, but I heard things anyway. I heard Sherry talk to TED and ask whether or not I'd even make it through recovery. And TED said they didn't know. And I heard them talk about what they'd found in my tummy -- there was a big lump, and they'd taken that out (along with a big chunk of my intestine, which they'd then had to sew back together!), but there was a second lump, too, and that one was all tangled up in my small intestine and they couldn't take it out -- they just whittled away at the edges to make it smaller. And they sent those lumps off to another TED lab, and found out they were Lymphosarcoma, which is the kind of cancer they thought it would be. It was a bad cancer that could send me to the Rainbow Bridge very soon if they didn't do anything else to me. But at the moment, they just wanted me to eat and drink and poop and get better from the operashun. But I didn't feel much like doing any of that, so I just stayed in the cage they put me in and didn't move.

      TED gave Sherry my Hoomin some of her books to read, and the books said that "a small subpopulation" of cats with lymphoma do well with chemotherapy after surjery. But of course she didn't know whether I would be in that small subpopulation or not. She didn't even know whether I'd get better from the operashun, but she kept coming to see me every day inna morning and inna evening. She kept talking to the hoomins who helped TED take care of me, and they told her how I was doing every day. They told her I acted glad to see her when she came and that she should keep coming. I did like to have her come see me. After a while I wondered if she would ever take me home.

      .

      My Recovery
      (June 14, 1998 - June 22, 1998)

      I still didn't feel much like eating, and since I wasn't eating I wasn't pooping and alla hoomins really cared about that a lot. (Have you noticed the strange obsession hoomins seem to have about kitty poop? Either there's too much or there's not enough, or it's not put inna right place, or it's thuh wrong culler, or it's too hard or it's too loose, and alla time they're watching you in your most private personal moments. It's not natchural and it's not polite. Lettem keep track of their own poop and leave us alone!)  Thuh TED helpers would feed me themselves if I wouldn't eat myownself. It was no fun, but at the beginning I was too tired and hurted too much to care.  After a few days, though, I began to feel a liddle better, and I began to point out that I wasn't entirely happy with the way they were treating me. They wrote in my chart that I was becoming "feisty." Hrmpff.  They should see feisty!

      Then Sherry my Hoomin told me she was going to go out of town for a couple days -- she was going to the Catifornia Dreemin clowder in Catifornia -- but she'd be back reel soon and TED had alla phone numbers to call her if I needed her. She left on Friday after my Monday operashun, and came home Sunday. She said she had a good time at the clowder, an alla aunties and uncles asked about how I was doing. And Aunti Kate even gave her some bottles of water from Lourdes, which is a place where the Virgin Mary (one of Bast's hoomin names) came to help sick hoomins. Sherry my Hoomin keeps putting little drops of that water on my tummy, and says she hopes that it will remind Bast (or Mary) to love and take care of me. Hoomins need those extra reminders sometimes, but I don't think Bast does. It makes my hoomin feel good, though, and she was very touched that Aunti Kate gave her the water.

      When Sherry my Hoomin came to see me Sunday afternoon, the TED helpers told her TED had said I could go home wif her. I was so happy to be home! She said I was supposed to stay quiet and not climb on things or jump up and hurt thuh cut in my tummy, but I had to see if everything was just like when I left. So I climbed and jumped and even ate a liddle bit of canned Friskies! Skye and Tally were furry cautious, cuz I smelled like TED, an they didn't know what I'd been doing. But I slept onna bed wif Sherry my Hoomin all night long.

      The next morning I was taken back to TED again! I had thought I was going to be able to stay home, but NO! Back to TED I went. This time they gave me a liddle schmorgasbord tray of all kinds of different food to eet an I got to pick out what I wanted. I picked out dry K/D. TED also noticed that I'd taken most of the strings out of my tummy. I do not like strings in my tummy, and I know how to take them out. I did it when I was fixed (even though I wasn't broke), and I did it this time too. Sherry my Hoomin didn't know I'd done it, because she was too uncomfortable feeling the Grand Canyon incision in my tummy to take a good look. But TED looked, and those strings were almost all gone!

      When Sherry my Hoomin came that night, she took me home for good. But now there was another TED to go see. This was a speshul TED at a place called Critical Care, and this TED was a speshulist in oncology, which is a fancy word for cancer which was what I had.

      .

      Needles and Pills
      (June 23, 1998 - July 5, 1998)

      We went to the Critical Care clinic the Tuesday after Sherry my Hoomin got back from Catifornia. A TED named David wif long yellow hair looked at me and talked to my hoomin. He said that wifout treatment it would probably be 30-60 days before I went to thuh Bridge. Wif treatment it cud be a liddle longer or a lot longer, depending on how it went. He was going to do somefing called a COP protocol (which is what Sherry my Hoomin had already read about in TED MaryKay's books). That meant I would git a poyzin called Vincristine stuck into me wif a needle, and a poyzin called Cytoxin shoved into me inna pill, an still another pill called Prednisone shoved into me efurry single day furefur an efur. I would git thuh Vincristine and thuh Cytoxin a lot to begin wif -- once a week fur thuh Vincristine -- an then if efurryfing went ok, I would just git those efurry three weeks.

      Thuh poyzins were supposed to kill thuh toomer an bad cancer cells, but they wud also kill other cells that grow fast, like fur (thuh outside guard hairs, not thuh underfurs) and whiskers. An after a while thuh cancer cells would probably figger out a way to not be killed by thoze poyzins and then they'd come back and we'd haf to find noo poyzins. Alla TEDs agreed: they couldn't cure thuh lymphoma; they could just treat it. (And some of the books my hoomin read said that lymphoma was the most common cancer in cats, and that it liked Siameze cats best. I could do wifout that sort of popularity, fangu furry much.) At one of the websites at the end of the page, you can read about Punkie Louise, who is a cat wif lymphoma who may have actually beaten thuh bad cancer cells, but that's really really unusual.

      I got sent home for another week so my tummy could heal more, and then thuh needles an pills started. Sherry my Hoomin bought me a brandy noo carrier, bloo to match my eyes she said, as if that would make me feel bedder about going to TED efurry week an gitting needles and pills. It did not.

      I got the furst round of needles and pills and the first day afterwards I didn't feel too bad.  But the next day I started feeling all hurky and icky and I just slept and slept and slept.  I kept trying to find dark quiet places to sleep (like thuh top shelf inna back of thuh closet) and that got Sherry my Hoomin all upset.  She wanted to see me alla time and know where I was, and she wanted to keep shoving those prednizone pills down my throte alla time. They made me foam atta mouf, an I'd try to spit them out. Sometimes I did. It was no fun at all.

      .

      July 1998

      Prizzin!
      (July 6, 1998)

      Well, it seems as if Sherry my Hoomin is not doing furry good. I'm thuh one wif cancer, an she's the one climbing the walls (metaphorically, of course -- hoomins can't climb walls like kitties can, speshully not fluffy hoomins like mine). All weekend after my first chemotherapy, she kept watching me and trying to put pills down my throat and generally being a big ol' pill herownself. So I went looking for those dark quiet places, and after a while, I began feeling a liddle better, but she was still bothering me alla time, so I was a liddle careful about letting her get too close to me wif those pills. That may have been a mistake, because you won't believe what she did next!

      I had my first chemotherapy needles on Thursday. Ofur the weekend I felt icky. By Monday and Tuesday I was feeling better but still watching out for my hoomin and those pills.  On Wednesday afternoon I was taking a nap wif my bestest frend Skye Silversong, and Sherry my Hoomin came home from werk. She saw me onna bedroom dresser having my nap, and she just walked right in and grabbed me and stuffed me inna big two-kitty carrier!  And she put that carrier inna baftub an started rearrranging the whole bafroom! She stuffed piles of noozepapers under and around the baftub (it's a big one wif claw feets and it's fun to hide under, but you can't hide under it if thuh underneath is all full of noozepapers!), and she brought in a noo litter tray and fudbowls an wadder bowls an moved some of her clothes and fings, and then...she let me outta thuh carrier, but she locked me inna bafroom! She said she just had to be able to find me and grab me and give me pills and see whether I was eating or pooping (see what I mean about wierd hoomin obsessions?) and how much and she just couldn't think of anywhere else inna house that was a little enough space with a door that could close so she could be sure I was safe.

      At least she didn't leave me alone alla time. She would come inna bafroom and close the door and sit down -- onna hoomin litter box or inna baftub (sometimes wif no wadder innit, but sometimes she put her whole self inna water -- hoomins are weerd), and read books and talk to me and sing to me. She has a speshul song that she sings to me, and she made up a noo song too. The first song is sung to the toon of "Beautiful Dreamer," and this is how it goes:

      Beautiful Ceilidh,
      Sweet little girl.
      No eyes are bluer
      In all the wide world.
      Chocolate and cream,
      So faithful and troooooo!
      Beautiful Ceilidh,
      Oh how I love youuuuu!

      You make a lovetail;
      Your fur gets all fluffed.
      You've spots on your whiskers,
      On each ear a tuft.
      You lie down beside me,
      Your tummy I rub.
      Beautiful Ceilidh,
      Sweet party of love.

      The second song goes to the toon of "Summertime," and the words (so far) are:

      Ceilidh Cat!
      This summer ain't eeeeeazy!
      You git needles and pills,
      And you feel pretty rough.
      But just as lonnnnnng,
      As you wanna keep goin'
      We'll just keep on a-goin',
      Keepin' on hangin' tough!

      My hoomin doesn't sing all that much in toon, but I still like it when she sings to me, and I come over to her so she can keep on singing and maybe pet my furs some. (I don't smurgle or cuddle or let myself be held in hoomin arms, but if you stand on your hoomin, or lie down right beside her, she can pet you for as long as you want.)

      Needles and Pills: 2
      (July 9, 1998)

      Today I went back to TED David for more needles. He said he couldn't feel my tumor (the "mesenteric lymph node") any more! I think this means the poyzins are werking. TED said this meant I was "in remission." Unfortunately, I still have to keep taking thoze poyzins. I only git a needle wif vincristine this time.  No cytoxin pills. (But I stilll have to have prednizone pills efurry day, and even though my hoomin is now breaking them into liddle pieces and putting them into a gelatin capsule to make it easier for them to go down my throte, I don't like taking pills!)

      Prizzin: 2
      (July 9, 1998 - July 15. 1998)

      I can't believe this! I'm still in prizzin inna bafroom. Sherry my Hoomin calls it my "spa" and says it's a liddle vacation hideaway, but I know better.  It's prizzin. For a while my bestest friend Skye came to vizit me, but after only a couple days she left and went out into the rest of the house. My hoomin says I have to stay here so she can keep giving me pills and watch to see whether I hurk from the chemotherapy shot, and see if I'm eating and drinking and pooping. I git no privissy at all! And I don't feel like eating or drinking or pooping and nobody's gonna make me!  And it's hothothot out, which means it's hothothot in here. No wonder I don't feel like doing anyfing.

      No needles!
      (July 16, 1998)

      Great news! (I thought it was great news, but my hoomin didn't.) I got taken back to the Critical Care clinic, and Sherry my Hoomin told them I hadn't been eating on my own for almost the whole week. She started feeding me babyfood meat herownself a couple days ago, but I've losted lots and lots of weight -- I'm not a round brown Siamese any more; I'm more of a sharp pointy Siamese. So when TED Dave looked at me, he said he wasn't going to give me any needles today!  (He said he didn't want to "kick me when I'm down," which made my hoomin all worried -- you know how hoomins worry.) So they made another appointment for me in another week, and we went home. Back to the bafroom, and my hoomin kept saying things like, "She will eat!" I don't feel like eating.  Sometimes you just aren't hungry. Of course, I do feel a little weak -- when I tried to walk over to where my hoomin was sitting, I kinda tipped over a liddle, and she said my flanks were all sunken in, and she got all worried again. You just can't keep hoomins from worrying, it seems.

      Awrite, awrite! I'm eeting!
      (July 20, 1998)

      One thing about not eating when your hoomin wants you to eat, that hoomin gets you all kindza food to try. Sherry my Hoomin brought me Fancy Feest an Sheba an dry kitten chow (she remembered that lotza grownup kitties snarf up alla kitten chow when there are noo kittens inna house). I liked the kitten chow and ate some of it. An Sherry my Hoomin stuffed some of that Fancy Feest and Sheba down my throat too, wif her very own fingers. She is furry stubborn, for a hoomin. I'm still not eating lots, and I'm not pooping (which she can tell, because there just isn't any place inna bafroom to hide it and so she knows there isn't any anywhere). And this worries her. She is kinduva wreck these days.

      Back to TED
      (July 21, 1998 - July 24, 1998)

      Well, I didn't get much of a reprieve from visiting TED! On Tuesday, I got taken to my regular TED first thing inna morning and they looked at me an stole some of my blood. It was for a CBC (Complete Blood Count), that TED Dave at Critical Care said I had to have so they could know what dosage of cytoxin pills to give me. They saw that I'd lost more weight. I weigh less than 7 pounds, now, and since I weighed 9 pounds before they took out alla tumors and things, and 8 pounds while I was recovering from the surjery, now that I don't even weigh 7 pounds, my hoomin is all concerned. She's afraid that I'm losing weight (and not pooping) because of the cancer in my intestines. TED said my intestinal walls might be getting thicker. They sent us home wif speshul prescription catfood called W/D, and gunk to make me poop (it's called laxatone and it's toona flavored, but I don't like it anyway). If I don't poop on my own, I'm gonna have to go back to my regular TED before I go see the Critical Care TED. Way too many TEDs I think.

      And...you guessed it!...I didn't poop, so on Thursday, I was stuffed back in that noo bloo carrier and off to TED I went.  I had to stay there all day and they did rood things to me, and so finally I pooped. It was nice an firm, which TED said was good, because if it had been runny it might be because the cancer was making it that way. It was still an indignity though, and no fun.

      And the next day, up to Critical Care we went. This time, they gave me a vincristine shot (which means I come home wif a bandage on my leg -- a different leg each time), but they saiid that even though my blood count was ok, they didn't want to give me cytoxin and "kick her while she's down." So my hoomin is all worried again, that I'm not getting alla needles and pills I need to kill the bad cancer cells. She bought lotsa A/D food, too, and another toob of toona-flavored laxatone, and I just know she's gonna stuff it down my throat, whether I want it or not.

      FREE!
      (July 25, 1998)

      Well, I spent another weekend inna bafroom, feeling pretty icky because of the vincristine shot. Sherry wondered how much more icky I'd be feeling if I'd had to take cytoxin pills, too, but then she worried that I should have been able to take the cytoxin and how it might not be good for me not to be able to handle it. She's feeding me A/D food, which is real slurpy and comes in liddle cans (not like the W/D food, which is coarse and comes in big cans) and she sees me drinking water -- I stand on my hind feets and lean over a liddle shelf over the baftub and drink outta the glass she keeps there for herownself. I don't drink outta the liddle bowl onna floor she gave me -- just the glass onna shelf. It's nicer, and more fun. But it was really hothothot the whole weekend (and Seattle hoomins and cats don't do hothothot very well -- Sherry my Hoomin says we're weather wimps). Finally, I guess it looked like I was through being sleepy and icky feeling from the chemotherapy, and Sherry said I could leave the bafroom if I wanted, because it was just too hot and besides, it wasn't much good taking all this trouble to treat my cancer and buy me more time, if I hadda spend all that time locked up inna bafroom. So she opened the door and left it open. I was free!

      I know she was worried I would go hide and never speak to her again and never let her give me a pill again, but after making sure the house hadn't changed any since before I moved into the bafroom, I just went back to acting like usual. I came and watched TV inna bedroom wif my hoomin, and I curled up on her pillow beside her and purred while she petted me, and I climbed up onna dresser and took a nap. And every morning she would give me a prednisone pill all stuffed into one of those liddle gelatin capsules and I didn't go hide (except once or twice, just to keep her on her toes).

      My next appointment wif TED is August 14, so Sherry says that as long as I look as if I'm feeling ok, she is going to assume that I'm eating and pooping ok. She can't tell whose poop is inna box if I'm not inna bafroom all by myownself, but she figures that if I don't poop for long enough, I'll start acting uncomfortable (well, duh), and then she'll have to call TED and see what to do. She's keeping on feeding me herownself by hand, but not every single day.  Sometimes it's ok, but other times it's just so rood and I object. And I'm still real skinny and she says she can feel every piece of my backbone when she pets me. And she says my fur isn't very happy -- it's kinda stringy and separated looking -- but as far as I know, I'm acting just liike normal and I'm yelling at her when she needs it, and helping her talk onna phone, and spending time with my bestest frend Skye, and hissing at Tally, and being pretty much myownself.

      So for now Sherry my Hoomin's not such a wreck. It's funny, isn't it? When I feel bad, she feels bad, and when she thinks I feel ok, she feels ok. So maybe she's my meowmie after all (I've never thought of her like that, but this has been a summer where sometimes it's nice to think about having a meowmie -- I've even started stretching out on top of her chest sometimes while she pets me -- I never used to do that, because I never believed in cuddling and being held in hoomin arms, but somehow I've felt a liddle different about those things recently. It does make her happy, and it does feel good, so maybe I'll keep on doing it for a while.)

      August 1998

      De-Pooped
      (August 13. 1998)

      My hoomin has deceived me!  She said this morning we would go to TED for a quick liddle minnit for a blood test (ackshually, that means TED steals my blood, and that means a needle), but that it wouldn't take long and then we'd go home.  But instead she left me wif TED! And they're gonna de-poop me again (that's thuh offishul tecknical medical term TED MaryKay used). And give me fluids. Which is more needlez. And rood things not nice to talk about here. Some liddle minnit this is! TED MaryKay and Sherry my Hoomin talked about how I hadn't gained enny weight back and even losted a couple more ounces. I now weigh 6 pounds 7 ounces. My hoomin knew I was still skinny, but she thought I might have gained some weight back. She hasn't been stuffing food down my throat every night, because she thought I was eating some on my own. Well I was, but I guess it isn't enough to suit 'em. TED MaryKay said I needed a little more "support" which I think means getting food stuffed down my throat, and gunk to make me poop stuffed down me too. All that and poyzins for my toomers! Hrmmmff. Not my idea of a fun summer. (Not my hoomin's, either, but now she's all worried that she hasn't been taking good enough care of me again.) And tomorrow I have to go to TED Dave at Critical Care and git more needlez. This was not a good morning, and not the quick liddle vizit to TED I was promissed!

      Needles an Pills: 3
      (August 14, 1998)

      I gess it's spozed to be good that I was stronger and more alert when I saw TED Dave this time. But that meant that I got a needle (vincristine) wif a bandij, an tomorrow (Saturday) I get a pill (cytoxin). I haven't had cytoxin since thuh first time, and it makes me feel real yucky, an it's so poysin that my hoomin's spozed to wear gloves when she touches thuh pill, but then she puts it down my throte an there aren't enny gloves there! (She's gonna use thuh gelatin capsules though, so maybe that's like a glove for my throte.) Still, TED and TEN (The Evil Nurse--she has long red hairs an I guess she's okay -- she always acts like she's glad to see me, but she still takes me back inna back an gives me needles) --anyway, TED an TEN said that lymphoma in kitties is real rough, and that my body hasn't been fitin' it as well as they'd hoped -- that's why I didn't git alla needlez an pillz inna first month like they'd planned. My blood werk was good, an, like they said, I was stronger this time, even if I've still lost weight. And I don't haf to have any more needlez or pillz for free weeks after tomorrow! (Just thuh prednisone pill efurry day, and thuh anti-nausea pill twice a day an thuh appettie-stiumlant once or twice a day, an some poop-making gunk efurry day so I'll keep pooping -- whut is this wif these hoomins an our poop anyway?  It's so grose!) But my hoomin thinks that TED and TEN don't think I'm gonna keep goin fur very long. That worries her, but I figger it's up to me, not them.

      There was a d*g at Critical Care when we were there today. He has cancer too and had a bandij on his leg just like I got, an he has thuh same chemo schedjule I do. He was a basset hound an reel low to the ground. He's been getting needles and pills since January. I just stayed inna back of my brandy noo bloo carrier that matches my eyes and pretended he wasn't there while my hoomin and his hoomin talked.

      So now I'm home an back inna bafrum, which is spozed to be my private retreat, an my hoomin comes in an sings to me and smurgles me and tells me how beeeeyoutiful I am. But she also stuffs food down my throte an pills, an now there's a syringe to squirt de-pooping medicine down my throte too. I guess I'll be here for a few days till I stop feeling yucky from thuh needles and pills. I always feel okay right afterwards, but then a couple days later I don't feel so gud and wanna hide away from everybody. Gess this is as good a place to hide as any. And my hoomin just says we'll keep on keepin' on just as long as I wanna.

      Keepin' On Keepin' On
      (August 19, 1998)

      This hasn't been as bad a weekend as I had after my first bouts of needles and pills. I haven't really felt hurky (and I haven't pooped either <heeheehee>) and except for getting real sleepy for a couple days, I haven't acted at all like I was feeling icky (I'll nefur tell how I really felt -- gotta keep those hoomins gessin`). Last night (Tuesday) I was so fulla beans (my hoomin sed) that she figgered it was time for me to leave my bafroom retreat. So after she stuffed A/D down my throte and some pills, she just went out and fixed herown dinner and I went out to make sure the howse was still the way I left it. Just a few more paperpilez onna floor was all, and there are always paperpilez coming and going in our howse. My hoomin thot I was still real thin, though, so this morning (Wednesday), when she woked up, she grabbed me offa thuh bed where I'd come to say good morning, and taked me inna bafroom where she gave me pills and a squirt of de-pooping medisin, and stuffed more A/D down me. I've started expressing myownself's opinion of this method of eeting by scrambling hard to get away from her when she does this. Sometimes she's stubborn and sometimes she just gives up. I have a feeling she's not gonna give up quite so much now, because of alla things TEDs said about my needing extra "support." But she doesn't have to think she's gonna haf an easy time of it!

      Still Keepin' On
      (August 28, 1998)

      For the last two weeks, my hoomin has been stuffing food down my throte (even though she sez she isn't doing it enuff, and even though I've eaten a liddle chikkin an uther fings from her dinner plate on my own). An she's been stuffing pills down my throte efurry morning. Sometimes I just have more energy than other times, but I fink I'm doing okay. I have to go git more needlez an pillz next week, and then my hoomin'z going to go vizit her family for a long weekend, and she sez I'll haf to stay in jail wif TED while she's gone! I don't fink that sounds nice at all.

      September 1998

      And keepin' on
      (September 1, 1998)

      I've been a little quiet lately, and Sherry my Hoomin thinks I "just don't seem right." Sheesh -- sometimes you just have a bad day.  You'd think she nefur had a bad day. Today I guess I perked up enough that she decided not to call TED early (I have an appointment on Thursday for more blood counting). I ate some pieces of cold porkchop offa her plate, and then I came back later and nibbled on a couple more I'd left behind. My eating makes her furry happy, so I guess I need to remember that -- if I don't want her breathing down my neck alla time, I gotta eat where she can see me.  But I'm not all that hungry any more, and even if I feel like eating, once I sniff around thuh fud I discover I don't really feel like it after all.

      (September 3, 1998)

      Got my blood counted today at my regular TED's. I saw TED Tracy, who did my surgery, and she said I didn't look nearly as thin as she'd thought I would. I still weigh 6 pounds 7 ounces, which is just what I weighed three weeks ago. I'm skinny (my hoomin says), but I'm not losing weight any more, so she doesn't feel quite so bad. I needed de-pooped again, and my hoomin got told she hadda give me laxatives efurry day instead of just once in a while. But TED Tracy also said she thought that maybe there had been permanent damage to my bowel (from the toomer), and that's why I don't poop on my own furry much. My hoomin doesn't quite know what that will mean for the future, but TED Tracy said so far I'd been tolerating the de-pooping efurry three weeks ok. (When my hoomin came to get me, they told her I'd pooped lots and lots -- you'd think a gurl could have a little privissy, wouldn't you?)

      Speaking of privissy! Now my hoomin is worried because I've been acting a little tough lately. She was talking onna fone the other night and not paying tenshun to me. I yelled and yelled at her like I always do when she talks onna fone, and finally I just got so frustrated I sorta mouthed at her hair and her hed.  I didn't really bite her -- just let her know I needed tenshun! And when I did that she put down thuh fone and fed me (with her finger inna A/D fud), and so I stopped yelling and bit...uh...mouthing her. Then yesterday she was home (an she's spozed to be at her werkoffissplace, but she took some time off just to stay home and git in our bizzness), and she heard liddle squeeks from thuh dining room.  When she stuck her head in to see what the squeeks were, she saw my bestest frend Skye (who is twice as big as me now) all crouched down onna table by the window, and I was standing over her like I mighta just been biting her neck or sumfing. We did that two or three times -- my hoomin nefur saw me biting Skye onna neck, but Skye kept squeeking, so she figgered sumfing was going on. No privissy, like I sed. So what if I'm feeling a liddle bit like a tuffgurlkitty? Or if I don't feel too gud an just haf to take it out on someone? Tally hisses and growls at me, so shouldn't I be able to rough up someone else once in a while? But no, my hoomin is worried that the prednisone I'm taking, or some of the other medicines I'm taking, are causing me to be a liddle "aggressive." Well, if she's worried, she could stop stuffing those medicines down my throat, couldn't she?

      Needlez an Pillz: 4
      (September 4, 1998)

      Had to go to Critical Care TED today for needlez and pillz. They gave me another shot of vincristine, and I haf to haf a cytoxin pill tomorrow morning. Neither my regular TED Tracy nor TED Dave at Critical Care thought my medicines had ennyfing to do wif my noofound "aggressiveness," but my hoomin still izn't shur. (Well, TEN at Critical Care sed that sometimes wif d*gs wif lots more prednisone than I'm getting that can happen -- since I'm not a d*g that shud take care of that, but my hoomin still wurries.) I still haf a lymph node that's "up" (which TEN sez means it's bigger than usual), but they still can't feel the toomer in my small intestine, an they gave me bof needlez an pillz, so I fink that means I'm holding my own, even if I am all thin an sharp an pointy an not roundbrown enny more.

      Labor Day
      (September 8, 1998)

      I spent this whole long weekend in jail at TED's! On Saturday morning, after I got needlez at Critical Care TED, Sherry my Hoomin stuffed a cytoxin pill down my throte, and a prednisone, and an appetite stimulent, and a anti-hurking pill, an stuffed me in the brandy noo bloo carrier that matches my eyes, put all my pillz an laxatifs an fings in a liddle zip-up cosmetics bag (red, white an bloo -- darker bloo than my eyes, but still bloo), an dragged me off to regular TED. She said it wuz a liddle vacayshun, but she can't fool me -- it wuz jail. I had to stay there for four whole days, till she came back from her vacayshun visiting her family for Labor Day.  They had cocktails on her meowmy's patteeyo, and barbeekyooed at a concert inna park wif lotza frends. I got A/D food stuffed down my throat by TED helpers, an pills stuffed down my throte, an when I didn't poop the whole time (well, there was no privissy), they went an told my hoomin when she came an sprung me on Toozeday.

      Even so, I wuz glad when she came and brought me home. She was spozed to keep me locked up inna bafroom to see if I'd poop there, but she sed I'd poop or not poop no matter where inna house I wuz, and she knew I wanted to make sure efurryfing wuz just the way I'd left it. It wuz. I checked thuh living room anna dining room anna kitchen anna bafroom an thuh bedroom an behind thuh bed an efurrywhere. It wuz all there. So were Skye an Tally.  Tally hissed an growled lots at me.  She thot I smelled like TED. She wuz rite, but I walked right by her an she ran inna other room. I'm lotz tuffer than I luk. So then I sleeped onna tvbox an wuz furry glad to be home. Now it's back to thuh same old same old, I fink -- pills an fud an gunk all stuffed down my throte.  No wonder I bite Skye's neck. Who wudn't?

      My hoomin sez that now that Labor Day iz ofur, summer is ofur too. It's not as hothothot out, an that makes us all feel a liddle better. It'll make staying inna bafroom more comfortable, but I hope I don't haf to stay inna bafroom for a while. I guess I haf anuther appointment for needlez an pillz in free more weeks, but before then I plan to just keep on keepin' on like usual.

      Eatin and Hurkin
      (September 18, 1998)

      My hoomin seems to think that eating is still an issue for me. She hasn't stuffed that A/D food down my throte efurry day, but she watches and worries alla same. The other night she had sallid that she got at the groshury store.  It had peeces of chikkin cut up in it, and she tossed me some to see if I would like them. (She had to toss them, because I'm not rood an pushy like Skye, who will put her whole face in our hoomin's dinner plate if there's sumfing she wants. I sit politely on the paperpilez a few feet away and wait. So she throws me peeces of things. If they land inna rite spot, I'll sniff them and maybe eat them. If they land too far away or I haf to turn around any, I'll usually just leave them there. It's good for her hand/eye coordinashun.) Anyway, she tossed me some of those peeces of chikkin and they smelled gud, an her aim was gud too.  So I ate a whole bunch. Maybe I ate them too fast, cuz rite away I hurked em all back up. That worried my hoomin, who didn't know if it was the lymphoma that made me hurk, or just cuz I gobbled that chikkin too fast. So I left the room so she could wurry in private. After a while I came back and ate some more chikkin peeces that I hadn't seen before, an then I ate the furst ones that were still there onna paperpilez. They were still gud an hadn't hardly been used at all. This time (my hoomin thinks, and I'm not gonna tell) they all stayed down an I didn't hurk again. So sometimes I eet things by myownself, and just because I won't eet from the catfud dish when my hoomin is watching and just because I eet a lidlle here and a liddle there and sorta graze rather than gulping it all down at once (see what happens when you gulp? you hurk! ick!), it doesn't mean I'm not eeting. A gurl has to haf some privissy, ya know?

      The other issue we still have is pooping. There's lotza poop inna lidder box, but my hoomin doesn't know whether it's my poop or just Skye's and Tally's. And we're not telling. She's been giving me nasty gunk called Laxatone, and sometimes icky squirty stuff called Laxalose, but I hate the Laxatone -- it gits all over my furs (cuz I try to wiggle away from it -- yuckkkkk), and then it gits sticky an hard. Today when my hoomin made a noo appointment to git my blood counted next week, the TED helper said that her cat hated Laxatone too, an maybe we should try another kinda gunk that might taste better. I'm reserving judgment.

      Well, I've had some good days and some bad days the last couple weeks. Mostly they've been good enough days, but when I get feeling kinda blahh and icky it makes my hoomin wurry some more. Last night she petted and singed to me and talked about how my body is fighting alla lymphoma inside me an that can make a kitty tired.  It's hard werk, even if you can't see it. And sometimes I do git really tired and just wanna sleep. I sleep on toppa thuh tvbox a lot -- it's just the right size and it's nice an warm an usually my hoomin is there reading e-mail or watching tvpikchurs, so we can be together wifout being on toppa each other. That's nice. It makes us both feel good.

      Next week I get my blood counted again, probably get de-pooped, and then more needlez an pills. I guess I'm gonna do this furefur until it's time to go to the Bridge. But it's not time yet, so I better take another nap now. Purrrrrrrs.

      AUTUMN
      (September 22, 1998)

      Sherry my Hoomin sez we've passed thuh Autumn Equinox and it's Fall now. It isn't as hothothot inna Out, but there's still sun an bloo sky, so it feels just rite to us. She's added noo words to one uv my songs:

      Ceilidh Cat!
      This summer wa'nt eeeezy!
      You got needles and pills,
      And you felt pretty rough.
      And now we're goin'
      Right on into Autumn --
      We'll just keep on a-goin',
      Keep on hangin tough.

      Oh -- I ate catfud on my own and Sherry my Hoomin saw me!  Well, she saw me standing wif my bestest frend Skye over the catfud dish right after she opened up a can and put some noo food out. So she figured I was probably going to eat it. And I was interested in the porkchop bones on her plate after she'd finished the porkchops, so she stuffed some of that A/D food down my throte, and I just sat there and let her do it, and didn't wiggle or anything. And afterwards I washed and washed and washed my own furs, so she thinks I'm feeling okay and the A/D food made me happy. And she saw me jump from the floor wayway high up onna paperpile onna chair at the foot of the bed, so she thinks I have lotza energy, at least some of the time. I'm still real skinny though -- don't think I'll be a roundbrown Siameze again any time real soon -- and she keeps pinching my skin to see if I'm dehydrated. I don't like to be pinched, so I leave whenever she does that. But all things considered, I've been acting like I feel pretty much like my ownself the last few days. (It doesn't take much to make a hoomin happy, does it?)

      Tricked!
      (September 24, 1998)

      I knew something was up this morning!  Don't ask me how I knew -- kitties never tell. (Well, actually, Sheerry my Hoomin told me -- out loud -- last nite. I don't know why she thought I wouldn't remember. Hoomins can be so dense sometimes.) Anyway, I knew something was up and so I got up before Sherry and left the bedroom and found a nice quiet place to wait.  She got up and got dressed and opened up a can of catfud and waited while Skye and I checked it out.  But then she tried to pick me up!  Nuh-UH! No WAY! I just walked away quicker than she could grab. And went behind thuh furniture and under thuh table and places she couldn't reach. Cuz I knew she was gonna take me to TED to get my blood counted, and I just didn't feel like seeing TED this morning.

      We played a liddle game of hide-n-seek, but after awhile Sherry got tired of playing.  She went into the bedroom and lay down onna bed. She isn't much of a morning hoomin, so I figured she was going back to sleep agin. I heard her talk onna phone and tell TED we were gonna be late (HAH! we weren't gonna be there at all, as far as I was concerned), and she talked to her werkoffissplace and told them she was gonna be late. An after a while I didn't hear any more talking.  So I thought I'd see what she was doing and maybe take a liddle nap myownself. It's hard werk playing hide-n-seek furst thing inna morning.

      Well, you know what happened!? I walked into the bedroom an Sherry's eyes were closed -- she wasn't really asleep, but she was acting all tired and resting.  So I walked over to the bed, and then I climbed up onna pillow. And she grabbed me! She said things like "I'm sorry, but yew have to get your blood counted!" And she picked me up and carried me out into the living room and she threw me inna brandy noo bloo carrier that matches my eyes, and marched right out into the Out and into the metalmonster car.  I protested atta top of my voice, but she wouldn't pay any attention! Instead she said things like, "When we get home, I'm throwing your sharp pointy liddle butt into the bafroom till tomorrow afternoon! I'm not playing hide-n-seek tomorrow when it's time for your keemo appointment!" It was so rood!

      So there I was, at my regular TED. We had to wait, not just cuz we were late, but cuz there'd been an emergency walk-in furst thing, and TED was bizzy. (So they weren't mad we were late. But I was mad we were there.) And while we were waiting, d*gs came in -- d*gs who were gonna stay in jail wif TED while their hoomins went off somewhere and hadda gud time wifout them. And a male hoomin brought in a cat inna carrier an that cat wuz protesting even louder than I wuz!  He wuz mad! He said "Lemme WOWOWOWOWT! Right NOWOWOWOWOW!" But his hoomin didn't pay any attention. He just talked to TED about how his cat had swallowed string and was "backed up" -- see? hoomins obsessing over kittypoop again! They're all alike!

      Well, finally, I got to see TED. And she found poop in me, so I hadda stay for de-pooping again.  And she weighed me, and I've losted more weight. I weigh less than 6 pounds now. That made TED look worried, and my hoomin too. Cuz I have been eating on my own, and Sherry has been stuffing A/D fud down my throte too. But I'm still losing weight, so maybe my intestines (where alla lymphoma is) aren't werking rite.

      They stuffed A/D down me while I was at TED's too. And then after she wuz through werking at her werkoffissplace, Sherry came and got me and brought me home and just like she'd promised, she threw me inna bafroom and locked the door. She left me fud an water an thuh lidder box, but she locked the door and left me there. She did come back later and put herwholeself into the baftub fulla water, and then she emptied the water and put on some clothes and put down a towel and sat there while I sat on her lap and she read a buk. An she stuffed fud down my throte anna noo kinda de-pooping gunk. Anna prednisone pill cuz I didn't get it this morning. But then she got up an turned off the light and left. So now I'm here inna bafroom, just waiting. SHERRY MY HOOMIN TRICKED ME! She duzn't play hide-n-seek fair at all.

      Needles an Pills: 5
      (September 28, 1998)

      Well, I hadda stay inna bafrum thuh whole nite and thuh whole next day, Friday, till Sherry came home inna afternoon, stuffed me back in that brandynoo bloo carrier she finks matches my eyes, an took me to thuh other TED, thuh oncology TED at Critical Care. There were lotzakitties an d*gs there, an one d*g came an sniffed my carrier! I stayed way inna back of the carrier, but then that d*g went to sniff at another catcarrier, an that ktty tried to murder him an called him all sortza bad names, an his hoomin hadda take him away from alla kitties.  It'z a zoo at TED's, lemme tell you!

      Ennyway, my blood had been counted an it was all there and normal, so I hadda have more needles an pills.  An I still hadn't found that weight I'd lost, an TEN said that's cuz of my lymphoma. I'm still in remission, an they can't feel enny toomers or lymph nodes (even the node that's been "up" the last couple times was "down" and couldn't be felt this time). But the cancer's still working inside me and I guess I'm just losing weight, even if I'm eating okay. But my hoomin is still gonna supplement my fud wif handfeeding me A/D fud.

      My hoomin was still interested in some kinda timeline, and she asked TEN about that. She remembered that she'd been told that 5-6 mumfs was an average survival time after being diagnosed wif lymphoma like I have.  An it's been three mumfs since my surjery. TEN reminded her that 5-6 mumfs was a mean (or maybe a average), and she said I could still be here for mumfs and mumfs, maybe even a yeer, but she would never be able to say fur shur cuz intestinal lymphoma is such a bad nasty aggressive cancer. But she said I'm always brite an alert an active when they see me, an lotza my kitty frends are purrrrrrrrring for me, an I know I'm not ready for the Bridge yet, an that's what counts. I can still boss around ennykitty in my house (like this weekend Tally was onna pillow by my hoomin an I just came in an luked at her and she ran outta the room an then I was onna pillow), an I still gotta make shur the house runs properly and keep our hoomin in line, so I don't have time to fink about the Bridge yet.

      So we came home, an this time I didn't get thrown inna bafrum. I got more pills the next morning (Cytoxin -- yechhh -- an anti-hurking pills an appetite-stimulant pills an prednisone furefur an efur), an Sherry's been stuffin that A/D down me, an some of that noo de-pooping gunk, an I had some of her chikkin fur dinner last night. So now it's another three weeks before enny more needles an pills, an efurryfing's back to normal. Except I'm furry slim an svelt.  Like a soopermoddel.

      .

      October 1998

      Discovered!
      (October 1, 1998)

      Well, Sherry my Hoomin rearranged some of our feeding routines, and put fud dishes in noo rooms (like inna bafroom where sometimes she locks me in prizzin), an now she's seen that sometimes I do eet on my own. Last night I ate some Whiskas inna bowl inna bafroom. An I ate before Skye or Tally. They know I'm still First Cat around here, even if I am half their size. An then I came an chewed an chewed an chewed onna porkchop bone she had left over from herown dinner. There wasn't hardly any porkchop onnit any more, but she pulled off what was left an put it onna dinner plate so I could eat it easier. But I didn't want that.  I wanted to chew the bone. So that's what I did (don't worry -- Sherry watched me efurry minnit so I wouldn't git hurted by bone splinters -- she hovered the whole time!). So now Sherry thinks I'm eating all by myownself an that makes her feel better.  But she sez she's still gonna give me A/D fud on her finger just to be sure I get lotza fud. She hasn't seen me poop allbymyownself yet, though. An I'm not tellin. So at least I have some privissy left.

      Caught Smurgling!
      (October 4, 1998)

      I didn't think she'd really notice -- she's kinda slow sometimes. But she did. This weekend, Sherry my Hoomin was lying onna bed reading e-mails, and I climbed up on her chest an stayed there inna meatloaf position for a long long time. At first she didn't say anything, an I thought I'd got away wif it. But then she looked at me, right there on her chest, staring right into her eyes, and she said, "Ceilidh!  You've never done this before!  This is so sweet!  Fangu!" So I was caught smurgling, even though I hardly efur smurgle or <gasp!> cuddle. At least she didn't call it cuddling. That would haf been too embarrassing. I've nefur believed in cuddling right up close to your hoomin like that -- it's not dignified. But lately I've noticed (as I fink I've said earlier in this diary) that I sometimes like to get just a little closer to my hoomin than I used to.  It does make me feel good, and I know it makes her feel good, all warm an melty inside. I guess wif all these needles and pills an canser inside me, I don't need to stand on my Dignitee quite so much. (An besides, the meatloaf position is furrry dignified, I fink, not rolling an rubbing and carrying on the way somecats -- like Tally -- do.) But I kinda wish she hadn't noticed -- then we could pretend I still don't cuddle...uh, smurgle.

      Stuck!
      (October 7, 1998)

      So last night Sherry my Hoomin came home way way late (she said she had a meeting after werk). As soon as she came home she put canned catfud inna bowl an Skye and I ate it all up cuz we were starving! But then just a little while later I hadda poop. Now you know my hoomin has been worried about how I don't poop enough. So when I hadda poop this time I went inna bedroom where she was reading e-mails an I tried an tried an tried to poop. "Oh, Ceilidh!" she said. "Are you pooping?" I thought it was pretty obvious what I was doing, but the bad thing was, nothing came out. I tried and tried and then I went to another part of the room and tried and tried, and then I hurked up the catfud I'd just eaten an tried some more an I still couldn't poop. So I kept trying to find a place where I could really poop and I went all over the house and back to the bedroom and back out and back and forth and it really didn't feel very good at all. I guess the poop was just stuck an I just couldn't get it out! Finally (and I'm not telling whether I ever pooped even a liddle bit or not), I came back inna bedroom and climbed up onna tvbox to rest. And that's when Sherry picked me up and took me into the bafroom -- prizzin again! My bestest frend Skye was there, sleeping on a pile of clothes, and she just looked at us like she didn't know what was happening. Sherry closed the door and stuffed de-pooping gunk down my throat. And then she said, "I'm calling TED in the morning, and you've got to stay here so I can find you if we have to go to TED's office." And she stayed inna bafroom wif me an Skye for a while, and kept watching to see how I felt, and then she left us in there all by ourownselves and said "Goodnight" and closed the door. We hadda stay inna bafroom thuh whole night.

      This morning I heard her onna phone, talking to TED, and she said "I am concerned.  We'll be there in five minutes." And sure enough -- she came into the bafroom, put on her clothes, picked me up and stuffed me in the brandynoo bloo carrier that matches my eyes, and off we went to TED. Who said there was hard poop inside me and I was dehydrated and they'd give me fluids and de-poop me. So that's where I've spent the whole day. I gess it wasn't much fun having to poop so bad and not being able to. But I'm not sure that spending the day inna cage at TED's is any better. Except they did get alla poop outta me and TED Tracy felt to see if I had any noo "lumpy bumpies" (I fink that's the tecknical medical term fur toomers), and I didn't, so that part's okay. An Sherry is coming to get me in just a liddle bit and I can go home and won't feel so icky cuz now there's no poop all stuck inside me. But I haf to go back agin next week to git my blood counted, and probably de-pooped agin, and then more needles an pills at Critical Care TED, and that's way too many vizits to TED I fink.

      Needles an Pills: 6
      (October 15, 1998)

      This hasn't been too bad of a needles-an-pills time. Yesterday I went to regular TED to get my blood counted and...(1) I'd gained a ounce an a half since they last weighed me; (2) Sherry my Hoomin told them I'd been eating lots by myownself; (3) I didn't haf to stay for de-pooping, an (4) I pooped in my carrier onna way out.  That was the best part of all.  You should have seen the hoomins carrying on!  First Sherry saw the liddle poop in my carrier while we were waiting at the counter to pay our bill. "What's that?" she said, and then she got a liddle tisshyoo from one of the exam rooms and picked it up and saw it was a purrfect liddle poop, about the size of the top half of a hoomin thumb. Nice an firm an fully packed, very well constructed, if I do say so myownself. And fresh. She was sure it was fresh (otherwise she would have been embarrassed at not cleaning out the carrier since the last time we used it <heeheehee>). So she showed it to the TED helper behind the counter, and she said it was fresh too. And then she took it away an I heard her inna back telling TED Tracy, "She pooped in her carrier!" Sheesh!  Hoomins! The way they were carrying on, I would have expected meowmie to bring it home and frame it and hang it onna wall! Instead they throwed it away! But all in all, it was a good TED visit.

      Then this morning I went to Critical Care TED for needles and pills, an while meowmie was getting dressed an ready, I pooped another liddle poop right by the litter box right in front of her. She acted like it was nip or diamonds or something! It doesn't take much to make hoomins happy, does it? Critical Care TEN said I looked scared when she came to take me for my needles -- I was facing the back of the noo bloo carrier that matches my eyes, hoping maybe no one would see me. Didn't work, but I wasn't scared.  So there. TEN was happy to hear I was eating and pooping too, but she said on their scales I weighed just a liddle bit less than last time. At least I haven't losted more weight, and meowmie and I have decided we like regular TED's scales better, cuz they say I've gained a liddle bit. And none of the TEDs found any noo lumpy bumpies, so everything is as good as it can be right now. And no more TEDs for three weeks I hope!

      November 1998

      Caught Teleporting!
      (November 4, 1998)

      I almost made it! Almost, but not quite. Hoomins are sure sneaky. It all started last night (Tuesday), when I was sleeping quietly onna teevee an Sherry my Hoomin just came up an grabbed me an shoved me inna baffroom (where my bestest frend Skye was already asleep herownself) an then closed the door and locked us both in! For the whole night! And then this morning Sherry came inna baffroom an put on her clothes an grabbed me agin an shoved me in that brandy noo bloo carrier that matches my eyes. Well, I knew what that meant!  Another trip to TED. And even though I protested quite loudly, an put my feets out an tried to keep from being shoved in that carrier, it did no good at all. Off we went to TED, where they counted my blood an said I'd gained a half a ounce which (TED Tracey was careful to point out) wasn't any kinda significant weight gain, but still wasn't a weight loss, so it was all to the good. And I didn't need de-pooping, so we went right home an efurrything was okay. For a while.

      Then tonight I was quietly sleeping in Sherry my Hoomin's lap while she was in bed reading e-mails. I was curled up in a liddle brown ball an efurry once inna while she wud pet me an say soft sweet hoomin fings to me. And then she threw thuh covers back an grabbed me by the scruff of my neck like she thought she was a momma cat an I was a kitten (hrmmmpf!!) an carried me back inna baffroom. Shut the door. On me an Skye. She taked a bath -- put her whole self in that big bowl uv wadder -- an when she got out and put on her sleepy clothes she made sure I was there wif Skye an she stepped outta the door an turned off the light an closed the door shut! An then she luked inna kitchen an there was a cat. It hadda be big ol' stripey ol' Talisker Pippin cuz Skye an I were inna baffroom wif the door shut. But NO! It was a liddle skinny cat wif a long tail, not a big gallumphing cat wif a bob tail. It wuz ME! I'd teleported rite outta that baffroom when my hoomin was closing the door an being so careful bout where she left me. Cat in baffroom, door closed, cat in kitchen. Easy! But I didn't think she'd see me. Sneaky hoomin! She grabbed me by my long tail (maybe Tally has the right idea, having just a liddle bobtail) an picked me up an shoved me back inna baffroom agin an this time she left the light on so she could see if I was getting ready to teleport. So here we are, me an Skye, an I think this means more TED tomorrow. *sigh*

      Needles an Pills: 7
      (November 5, 1998)

      Well, I was right. This morning I went to see Critical Care TED an git more needles (vincristine) an pills (cytoxin -- for tomorrow). When TEN brought me back frum getting needles, she told Sherry my Hoomin that the lymph node in my belly was big as a filbert. (Who's Filbert?) She said that TED David wasn't too concerned yet and we'd see how this round of needles an pills went before deciding if we needed to do anything. I've been feeling just fine, so I don't know what the big deal is. (TEN said sometimes lymph nodes change sizes up an down just because, like when you don't feel good, they'll get big, so that's why they're not too concerned yet, but they wanted my hoomin to know that they could feel it this time.) We went home an I got out of that brandy noo bloo carrier that matches my eyes, but I fink I have to wait till my hoomin comes home from werk to get the bandaje off my leg. An I fink she's been having wet eyes at werk. She knows how bad a canser I have, an she knows it's probably going to be what sends me to The Bridge, but I fink she's been having a liddle bitty fantasy way inna back of her mind that somehow it wouldn't be for a longlong time an maybe we'd beat it. An now she finks maybe I'm right onna schedule that TED David gave her of maybe 5-7 mumfs after starting treatment. This isn't a surprise, but I can tell she still feels bad. But maybe it was just a bad day an alla needles an pills will shrink that ol node back down so it's not as big as a Filbert enny more. An at least I don't haf to fink about needles an pills fur anuther three weeks.

      SANTA CLAWS!
      (November 15, 1998)

      This afternoon Sherry my Hoomin asked me, "Do you want to go see Santa Claws?" I wasn't quite sure what that meant, but if it meant getting in my brandy noo bloo carrier and riding in the metalmonster car, the answer was "No!" But she didn't listen to me furry gud. She said, "You know, Ceilidh, this might be our last Kissamouse. And it's a benefit for the Humane Society.  That's a good cause!  Let's do it!" An then she grabbed me an this time she shoved me in the teal bloo canvas carrier wif long straps that she can carry on her shoulder like a shoulderbagpurse. An off we went inna metalmonster car.  We drived and drived and drived. Lots farther than when we go to TED. An then we got out an walked an walked an walked.  We were inna big building wif a long long hallway that Meowmie called a "mall" an at the end uv the hallway we stood in a long long line. There were lotza hoomins inna line an they all had cats or d*gs wif them. Mostly there were d*gs. There were grate big d*gs called mastiffs. An there were furry d*gs wif curly tails that went "woo woo woo" alla time. An there were itty bitty d*gs that were held in their hoomins' arms called miniature poodles. An there were some cats in carriers but those carriers hadda sit onna ground an thuh d*gs came an sniffed them an then the cats said nasty things to the d*gs like "I'm gonna rip yew apart when I git OWWWWWT!" I was glad I was inna teal bloo shoulderbag carrier, cuz nod*g knew I wuz there.

      Finally we got to the front ov the line an Meowmie took me outta da carrier an we sat down onna bench by a big hoomin male inna red soot. It wuz Santa Claws, but as yew will see frum da pikchur below, he wuz not appropriately impurressed wif my own lovely brown self.  He also wuz not quite az big an round az I've heard he's spozed to be.  My own hoomin haz a much better belly that shakes like a bowlful uv jelly than he did. She's really fluffy, not fake fluffy like that Santa Claws.

      Well, after just a couple minnits onna bench, it wuz all over. I went back inna teal bloo shoulderbag carrrier, we walked back to the metalmonster car, we drived and drived and drived back home. No needles no pills no TED. Not as bad as it cudda been.  An when it wuz all ofur, we got da pikchur yew see below, wif Santa Claws (inna red), Meowmie (da fluffy one) an me, Ceilidh Flurrydance, da slimbrown Siamese inna hoomin arms. Happy Kissmouse efurrykitty!


       
       

      Needles and Pills: 8
      (December 1, 1998)

      Yesterday it was time to go back to TED.  I got my blood counted, an this time I hadda git de-pooped. Stayed at TED's all day. TED Mary Kay said maybe the reason I've been hurking a little now an then -- just little bits uv white foam, usually, but it's got Meowmie all wurried -- wuz becuz I wasn't pooping enuff.  So I gess it's back to de-pooping gunk fur us. I don't fink I like the thought of that, but now Meowmie is all guilty feeling again, so I guess she won't let me git away wif anyfing for a while.

      Then today I went to Critical Care TED an got more needles. They said my lymph node was big as a walnut this time. That's bigger than a filbert I guess. And I gess if it keeps on gitting bigger that's not a gud fing. But I feel okay, so I'm not going to wurry.  That's whut we haf hoomins for, and Meowmie's doing a gud job of wurrying fur bof of us.  At least I don't haf to stay locked up inna baffroom tonight -- my hoomin is getting furry fussy about tthat -- she says she won't play hide-n-seek wif me before I haf to go to TED, so she puts me inna baffroom the night before. Tonight when she comes home she's gonna give me pills -- cytoxin fur da lymphnode an no-hurking ppills fur da cytoxin an tomorrow it's more prednisone like always furefur and efur. But we'll be able to sleep together an I can keep her company while she reads e-mails an watches teevee, an that will make us bof feel gud. As long as we feel gud, we'll just keep on keepin on. Da heck wif walnuts!

      Winter Solstice - Brrrrrrrrrrrr!
      (21 December 1998)

      Well, my time of needles and pills started right before the Summer Solstice, and now we've reached the Winter Solstice and I'm still here! It's been coldcoldcold too -- I've spent lotza time curled up on Sherry's chest while she lies in bed reading e-mails, cuz our furniss has been broked an it's got quite nippy inna house.  Tally an Skye (an Sherry my Hoomin) have lotza fluffy insulation of their own, but I've lost all my insulating fluffiness. Sherry keeps trying to put a quilt or blanket over me when I'm curled up on toppa her, but I won't let her. I don't ever get under cuvvers! There's somefing just not right about that!

      Today I went to get my blood counted, and I'm staying for de-pooping and fluids. That means needles an pills tomorrow. *sigh* TED Mary Kay felt my tummy and said my walnut was still a walnut. I guess we'll have to wait until TED David feels it tomorrow to find out what he says we should do bout that. The needles and pills don't seem to be shrinking it any more. But I still act the same as always and TED Mary Kay said I have a "good quality of life" -- so alla needles an pills have bought me the whole time between the solstices -- that makes Sherry my Hoomin happy that we've done this.  Me too. She sang me another song too:

      Ceilidh Cat,
      It's comin on winter
      It's chilly and dark
      And the sky, it is cold.
      But we're still
      Keepin on here together,
      Keepin warm wif our lovin,
      Love havin' you to hold.

      Needles and Pills: 9
      (December 22, 1998)

      Whudda day! First thing inna morning off we go to git more needles and pills.  That wasn't a surprise -- that always happens after I get my blood counted. What was kind of a surprise was that I got stuffed in the teal canvas carrier that I went to see Santa Claws in. But a carrier is a carrier. I still hadda go see TED and get needles and pills and have my toomer looked at. It turns out my walnut is still a walnut. It hasn't shrunk, but it hasn't grown much either. Only now I have an enn-larjed kidney. The left one. Meowmie asked what that meant, and TEN said it could be because of the lymphoma and it could be just because. But it's one more thing. TEN said that TED wanted to wait for one more time and then see next time, in three weeks, what that walnut was doing. And maybe we'd stay onna same needles and pills and maybe we'd haf to try some noo ones. Meowmie said, "But we've been waiting and seeing for three times now." And TEN said that when I first went to see TED David for the lymphoma, he'd given me 4 to 6 mumfs wif treatment. And I'd made it to 6 mumfs. So it cudda been worse I guess. I don't fink the waiting and seeing agrees wif my hoomin, but I feel okay, so it doesn't bother me.

      And then Kissamouse!
      (December 29, 1998)

      But after we left Critical Care TED and went home, guess what? There were Skye and Tally in carriers. Skye was in my brandy noo bloo carrier that matches my eyes. And Tally was in the big beige carrier. I got dumped inna bafroom agin and I heard Sherry my Hoomin banging those carriers around an then the door shut an I was all alone inna house. A little later back my hoomin came back an came inna bafroom an sat down inna empty baftub wif me an we smurgled. And then she put me back inna teal bloo canvas carrier and carted me off to regular TED. An left me! In prizzin! An that's how I spent Kissamouse! Tally an Skye spent it in anuther prizzin at anuther TED's. Our hoomin said I hadda stay at TED's while she went to visit her meowmie for Kissamouse becuz I hadda have pillz efurry day. An she sed Tally an Skye hadda stay at another TED's so she could see if they'd be okay this spring when she wants to go on a longlong trip and has to have a place for us all to stay while she's gone. She said Skye cried and cried and cried in her carrier and then put her face inna corner of her cage and wouldn't speak to her at all. And Tally just acted like she was in shock. They've never hadda stay at TED for that long -- I never did either till I got this lymphoma and hadda have needles and pills alla time. We are not pleased wif these noo developments.

      (On the other paw, I should report that Tally and Skye and I got 61 Kissamouse cards from all our friends on R.P.C.C. Meowmie -- who was meen an left us in prizzin for Kissamouse -- only got 11 cards that were for herownself and not for us too. Maybe if she wasn't so meen Santa Claws would put her onna "Been Nice" list an she'd get more Kissamouse cards!)

      Well, finally, days an days after Kissamouse was over, Sherry our Hoomin came home and she came and got us and brought us all home too. I guess we got a noo furniss while we were all in prizzin, cuz the house is all nice an warm again. Still, Tally and Skye aren't speaking to meowmie -- they're mad about having to go away for a week, but I've been sitting on her chest and on her lap and on her tummy while she reads e-mails.  I guess I like having her around and miss her when she's gone. The TED helpers who took care of me while I was in prizzin are nice and they pet me and give me attentions, but they're not meowmie. They made meowmie happy though. They told her I'd eaten lots and purred for them when they petted me, and they even de-pooped me before sending me home (I guess that was nice of them). My hoomin was glad to hear that I'd been doing so good, speshully since she hadda leave me right after I got needles and pills and learned that my walnut is still a walnut. We're both glad to be home now, though.  It's almost time for the Noo Yeer, an I'm gonna start it out by hissspitttting at dum ol' walnuts an just keep on keepin on like always.

      January 1999

      Early to TED
      (January 7,1999)

      The last couple days my hoomin has been telling me I'm gonna go to TED at Critical Care tomorrow.  She says I haven't been acting as if I feel okay.  I haven't been hurking.  I haven't been hiding.  I haven't been moanin an groanin the way she does when she doesn't feel good.  So I don't know what her problem is.  Just because I've been a little quiet. And she thinks I've lost more weight -- she even says it hurts to pet me because my bones stick out more than ever!  And because I don't act quite as excited about dinner as I did just a little while ago.  And because I haven't been grooming myself quite so much, so my furs are a liddle icky.  And because maybe I'm a liddle dehydrated.  And because when I sit on her lap at night I kinda hunch up instead of curling up or settling down in a nice comfortable meetloaf position.  Somehow she thought that all added up to a change.  That I haven't been keepin on keepin on quite as good as before.  So she went and called TED David on Tuesday of this week and he said he thought he should "have a peek."  So we have an appointment tomorrow afternoon, and I just know she's gonna come home an throw me inna baffroom or something meen like that.  And then leave me until it's time to go to TED.

      She's afraid of what TED will say.  She's afraid that maybe I'm starting to get ready to go to the Bridge. I catch her with wet eyes when she doesn't think I'm looking.  I'm not sure yet, and I'm not telling -- some things are private, and I think I'll be able to let her know when the time comes. Right now, I just know I'm gonna be going to TED tomorrow.  Pooh on that.

      Whut TED Sed
      (January 8, 1999)

      Well, that was the fastest TED visit efur -- we didn't even haf to wait inna waiting room or anything.  We went right inna exam room an TED David came in an looked at me an felt my kidneys.  And what he sed was that my lymphoma has spred into my kidneys and that's why they're bof enlarged so bigbig that even Meowmie could feel them.

      So TED David taked some of my blood and that's gonna show him whether my kidneys are still working okay even though they're big and full of lymphoma, or whether they've started to stop working.  Inna meantime TEN came in and gave me fluids with a needle so Meowmie could see how it was done, in case she was gonna haf to give me fluids to help my kidneys out. And the fluids helped me feel bedder than I had been all week, so I didn't even jump when TEN put the needle under my skin.  Then we went home to wait for TED David to call the next morning and say whut he'd learned about my kidneys from my blood that he took

      I guess I'm outa remisshun now.  The lymphoma isn't responding to the needles (vincristine) and pills (cytoxin) any more.  So if my kidneys are still working, we might try to attack the lymphoma with other drugs so it goes back into remission.  And try to help my kidneys with subcutaneous (that meens "under da skin") fluids.  But if my kidneys aren't working any more, I guess it'll be time to get ready to go to the Bridge.  But at least there won't be any more needles and pills except maybe some of those fluids to make me feel better.

      So right now we just gotta wait till tomorrow to learn whut was in my blood.  I've told all my kitty frends, cuz they've been asking how I've been doing.  I think now is a gud time for a nap on Meowmie's lap.

      The Vigil
      (Evening, 8 January 1999)

      This has been a furry nice evening. After I told all my friends that Meowmie and I hadda wait till tomorrow morning to hear from TED David, I started getting all sorts of purrrrrrs and good thoughts from all over.  And then kitties started teleporting in to wait with us, so many that I'm sure I'll forget some names.  But they were all here.  The first ones were Zizi, CJ and Punkin.  "We will sit an wayt wif yoo an Aunti Sherry, iffen thatz ok," they sed.  It was furry okay. Soon we saw Major, Mahler, Hunter, Christofur and Ms. Schmutz, and the ABC kitties frum Texas.  Mike, Charlie an Pauline (whu luks just like Tally and acts even tuffer) came and did ankle twines round Meowmie's feets.

      Frum Mew York came Bootsie an Gizmo an Sassy an Whiskers an Spook, an Princess HC, da Urban Dog.  Cher Bear, Shadow and Tara, three Siameezers from Norf Carolina arrived soon after, still missing their liddle bruvver Toby an big sisfur Cigi who went to da Bridge some time ago. Da Sheridan Krew frum Catnada were there.  The house was full of kitties. They were sitting on the bed and the couch and the floor inna meatloaf position, some snuggled up next to each other (like Charlie who hunkered down next to his beluved Zizi).  "An usssss!!!!" and Len an Kiri, the two furry gray gurls from Mew Zeland, popped in and flopped down beside the others.  Len settled down next to Major while Kiri went around annoying everyone (but I was glad to see her -- she understands about almost going to the Bridge) and yelled at all the new kitties she met. Punkin an Puddi Cat quietly slipped in to join the others, and we saw a small dark ripple as the torties all moved over to make room for two more torties, Thistle an Shamrock from Mew Jersey.

      Thaddeus+ came ofur an hedbutted me an sed, "Yew look like an anjel, Ceilidh.  Dew anjelz dew nip?"  An he poured me a pawful of homegrown.  Then Bigman gave me a gentle headbutt an softly <blooped>, while LaRRy, Toto, Irene,and Giuliani HC, thuh gentle german shepherd gurl, raised glasses of nipwine inna toste.

      Just then a little brown tabby from Florida came in, and sighed, "Oh my.  Ceilidh, dis noos has got mymom so furrysad dat shee dusnt no whut to rite.  So, if it's OK wiff yu, wee'ze ported ofur an I will sing yursong (furryqwietlee) an Norry an Neko will purrrrrr nizelee inda bakgrownd wile wee'ze waytin to heer whut comes next. It was Mietze, and she began to sing mysong in a soft, clear soprano:

      Beeeeeyootiful Ceilidh.
      sweeeeeet liddle gurrrl,
      no eyez ar bloooer
      in all da wide wurrld.......

      Patches and Britches arrived and settled next to Neko and Norry and began to purr along. It was so pritty.  It made Meowmie git wet eyes, lissening to alla kitties purrin an singin mysong to me.  I looked around and realized that someone had better try to make all these kitties comfortable, so I said,"This is so nice -- so many frends comin ofur to help us wait for TED to call and sending all those purrrrrrs.  An Mietze, yew sing mysong so sweet -- Meowmie's been singing it too.  I neerly always come sit on her lap when she starts singing.

      "Well," looking around again.  "It's gonna be a while till TED calls (till tomorrow morning at least).  I can't let yew all wait here and starve to death.  We weren't expecting you, so we don't haf anyfing fancy, but Meowmie just bought a whole lotta canned Friskies on sale, an Fancy Feetz, all diffrint flavors, so ennykitty who wants sumfing, just go on over to da big table an help yourself.  There's wadder inna big bowl inna kitchen an inna liddle bowl inna baffroom.  An dere's a drippy fawcet inna bafftub if ennykitty purrfers drips  Da e-mail is inna bedroom onna webtv, and let's see...if ennykitty needs sumfing, just ask.  Tally an Skye will be happy to git it for yew." (Course, I didn't ask Tally an Skye if they wanted to help <heeheehee>)

      "I'm already feeling bedder, cuz of the fluids I guess.  Meowmie sez my furs aren't so sticky icky any more -- but I'm a liddle tired, so I'm gonna take a nap on toppa da teevee.  You all just make yourselfs at home."

      I climbed onna teevee inna bedroom for a nap, and Mike, Charlie and Pauline said, "Ceilidh, this is furry sweet of you.  We don't want to eet you outta howse an home, however, so here's some housefinches we dug outta the back yard an some Pouncies, an some more fancy feetz."

      "An I nefur goez ennywhere wifowt my totebag and yu know Shadrach wud nefur leeve hiz kooler behind," Jezebel reminded us, and began digging cans of toona an sammon patay an nipcrackers out of her bag while Shadrach started handing out beveridges from his kooler. "And we brot a whole case of Fansee Feest," said the Mew Yawk Citee Furkids.  "We brort sum rathir slow sparrowz an a few lizzids!" offered Len and Kiri.  "And we brought a pizza!" announced Chester, Clarence, and Nathan.  Kitties began reminiscing about alla pizza parties in the early days of rpc when many of us first met.  Just then da weeds (Thistle an Shamrock) and Stinky, all of S & S Catering, brought in catering trays and jugs of nipwine and spikearitas.  "Hey Ceilidh," they meowed.  "We hear that spikearitas are the best fur re-hydratin.  Could we tempt yew wif just a wee morsel fo fine Scottish sammun?"

      Well, just then Miranda-Banda, High Priestess of Bast, arrived, accompanied by alla JMCC bunch. Twelve visible plus numerous invisble cats, four bunnies, and two dogs teleported in.  "Kewl!  a partee!  Hey you guyz!!! I've bin missin ya!  Shove ofur, we're coming too."  There was no mistaking that Miranda had arrived.  "You're da gest of honor, Ceilidh.  Heer -- have a liddle water; it's eral gud fresh Oregon rainwater."  She pulled out a liddle thermos and filled a catbowl, then asked, "Ennybody else want sum?"

      "Hi Miranda-banda," replied Mike, Charlie and Pauline.  "We'd love some fresh Oregon rainwater -- after Ceilidh gets her fill.  She's the one who needs the hydratin."  Well, then Miranda produced a whole rainbarrel full of Oregon rainwater and passed it around to everykitty.  (There wuz lotza Washington thuh State rainwater falling outta the sky in our Out, but the Oregon water was a nice exotic touch, and it was in our In.)

      Then Miranda looked over at me and Meowmie.  "Hey, Ceilidh, gudgud to see ya!  You look an sound finefine even if you is a liddle skinny!  We'ze gonna purr dat you keep on feelin comfortable an cheerful like you iz.  And we'ze gonna purr dat yer hoomin feels okay.  Wutze matter wif her, ennyway?  She looks awful, don't she nefur sleep or nuffin?"

      Turning her attention to Meowmie, Miranda went on. "Yo, Aunti Sherry, cheer up!  (swat kickkickkick)  Duz dat help??? (hedbutt purr lick).  Wud you like us to get da Sacred Sprayers uv Bast to make a nice healing scent in da house?"  Meowmie got kinduva panicked look on her face at that, especially when Mikey offered to help spray, and Miranda replied, "Oh, fangu Mikey. I fink it wud be just da fing to help occupy Aunti Sherry's mind.  Why don't you start in da bedroom? It's always nice to have the help of a nice menny-toed orange boy."

      Meowmie kept that panicked look off and all all evening, though I noticed it alternated with soft looks at alla kitties popping in and out, filling the chairs and counters and tables and floors.  It was especially moving when the singing started again.  Miranda decided they should sing mysong agin.  "BYOOOOOFEEETSSSUL KAAAAAYLEEEE YOOOOOWLITTLE GRRRRRRLLLLLL...." she sang, pacing, yowling, and putting magic pawpad scent all ovur our Ballard house.  "AH-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" joined in Liddle Bit, an honorary doggie member of the Siamese Cat Chorale.  Lenny from Mew Zealand added her own unique sound to the mix, and Yarrow from Catnada joined in with her own special mewsical voice. Finally Mikey said, "Y'know, it seemed to sound a liddle diffrent when Mietze sang it," and put earplugs in his ears.

      "I'm doin da harmonee," insisted Miranda (though I kinda fink Miranda's idea of harmonee is singin whatefur notes come outta her mouf an not worrying wut da uther folks is singing -- but they were all singing mysong and it made me feel furry loved to hear my frends sing to me like that -- and they didn't sing much more outta toon than Meowmie duz after all).

      After a while, things quieted down a liddle.  Alla kitties curled up an began to take naps, or sat solemnly inna meatloaf position and talked quietly together.  I was about ready to take another nap on Meowmie's bed behind her knees when Ember from Vancouver Island came over.  "Ceilidh," he said, "efur since I met you, you hav always bin so thotful of other kitties an you always hav a kind werd fur ennyone you meet, an you nefur ask fur ennyfing fur yourownself [well, Ember nefur was around when Meowmie wuz onna phone an I got in her face <heeheehee>].  Whatefur you want, I wish I could give it to you.  But you have the best thing of all already, your Sherry's love an the love of your frends.  Fangu for offering us the fud an efurrything.  I'm not furry hungry tho.  I'm just going to sit hear inna loaf position an lissen to Mietze singing your song and purr.  You rest there wif your Meowmie and we're all hear if you need ennyfing."

      And that was when I went to sleep, surrounded by alla my frends and curled up, finally, in a liddle brown ball on my Meowmie's lap.

      Morning
      (January 9, 1999)

      In the morning when I waked up, all my frends were still there.  I'd heard Meowmie talking onna phone wif Ted, an I knew efurrykitty was wondering what they'd said, and so I asked them all to gather around.

      "Good morning efurrykitty," I said.  "This has been a wonderful peaceful night wif all yew here purring and waiting wif us.  I spoze yew herd da fonetalkfingey ringing a liddle while ago.  It wuz TED David and he sez that da tests show my kidneys aren't werking an that's why I've been feelin so icky (an why da fluids yesterday made me feel bedder so I cud sleep gud, curled up in a roundbrown ball for da first time in days).  He an Meowmie talked an then she's talked to me, an we agree that it's time for me to start my journey to the Rainbow Bridge.  If I stay here too long I'll just feel bad alla time an I wn't be able to appreciate eating or sleeping or even smurgling.  So we haf an appointment wif TED MaryKay to give me some help starting on da way.  My second momcat, Spreckles, is atta Bridge, an I know she'll be waitin for me.  An Spike an Shu an Omar an oh so menny uther frends.  I'll bet they don't have a chorus there yet, but I can fix that!

      "Now, my name, Ceilidh (remember, say "KAY-lee") means party wif singing and drinking and eating and gud frends being together, so I'd really like it if we all adjourn to da Soomocat Cafe an Pub down da road an we can have a farewell ceili.  I want to pass on da baton of da Siameze Cat Chorale to my bestest frend and Furst Assistant Conductor Skye Silversong, and I have a liddle sumfing fur our housemate Tally too.  I have to let my winkwink Rocko an my mentee Rusty an sum other frends know, an then we'll start da ceili in rpcc.

      "Yew all go ahead an I'll meet yew there.  I'll stay for awhile an then I'll haf to leave.  But yew stay an haf a gudgud time in my memoree, okay?  (I fink Soomocat Productions still has a credit at da Pub, so efurryfing is onna howse!)"

      And so alla kitties gathered their things together and left one by one for the Pub, and after Meowmie and I make our visit to TED MaryKay, I'll be joining them for my farewell ceili.

      Purrrrrrrrrrrrs,
      Ceilidh Flurrydance,
      SOC, MDSCCC, Mentor of Rusty, Winkwink of Rocko
      beloved of Sherry her Hoomin
       
       

      The Rainbow Bridge
      (January 9, 1999)

      Hoomin note: Ceilidh Flurrydance passed peacefully to the Rainbow Bridge a little before 2:00 p.m., PST, on Saturday, January 9, 1999.  She is resting under the pear tree in our back yard, next to her second momcat Spreckles, and others of our clowder who have gone on before.  She was dearly loved, and will be sorely missed until we all meet again at the Bridge. --Sherry her Hoomin







      LINKS

      Here are some of those veterinary links we found.  Lots of these pages have more links on them, so you can find lots more things to read.
       

      • Caring for Pets with Cancer (Dr. Kevin Hahn, Gulf Coast Veterinary Oncology, Houston, TX)
      • Veterinary Oncology: University of Pennsylvania Cancer Information
      • Cat Health-Related Links (nice comprehensive list)
      • VetInfo: A Veterinary Information Service
      • Prednisone (all about a drug I get efurry day furefur!)
      • Punkie Louise (Punkie and her hoomin are successfully battling intestinal lymphoma; links to other cats' pages too)


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