@Alamias said in Real World Peeves, Disgruntlement, and Irks.:
I know where you are. I have been there before, and recently at that. I'm sorry you are having to deal with it.
That's all right.
Watch what you wish for, it seems; my cat is going to die tomorrow.
That's not even a joke.
You see, my cat, over the past couple of weeks, has not been able to eat. For a brief respite, we had him on steroids, an antibiotic, and an appetite stimulant. For three days, the poor guy could eat wet food, after having lost about 3 pounds in 3 months. He had not been eating right, but switching food seemed to help him eat. Until he started coughing up blood, and then stopped eating altogether.
The good thing about becoming emaciated was that it was easy for the veterinarian to detect the massive lump under his chest. A previous x-ray didn't catch it, or the mass grew quite large in just a month or so. That's not uncommon in cats, I learned today. The veterinarian thought that it might be liver cancer, or stomach cancer, but suffice to say that the mass is pronounced, hardened, and likely malignant.
We paid to get an ultrasound today just so we would know for certain what would kill our cat.
Once we get the diagnosis tomorrow, we plan to put him down. There are options like chemotherapy, but given that our cat is severely anemic (16% of normal red blood cell count), that would probably kill him. He refuses to eat or drink now, and his organs will shut down over time. So, doing something or doing nothing will lead to a prolonged, likely-painful death.
I didn't burst into tears until I was able to hug my children, who were very confused why their parent, dressed in a suit from work, was clinging to them.
If there's a word to describe my cat, it would be stupid. He was so very stupid, even for a cat. Afraid of everything to boot: he was successfully scared off by an ant once, and it was just the most pathetic thing in the world. But our cat loved the simple things in life: hopping into your lap for a purr and pet; eating the same damn food every day, which probably didn't help his diet at all; and, of course, chasing a red dot until he ran square into the fireplace glass.
I will likely get to watch him depart from this world quietly and peacefully.
If there were ever an argument for euthanasia, this would be it. I can handle crying from knowing I will lose a dear friend, but I do not think I could handle watching him slowly slip away from poison or atrophy.
If I seem a little distant for a while, this is probably the reason why.
Work seems so petty and stupid right now.