serena

I'm dedicating this post to another member of our family, one I haven't mentioned much lately--my (almost) fifteen-year-old cat Serena (Sena for short). She hasn't eaten more than a few bites in the past two weeks, but has been throwing up darker-than-normal vomit (no hairballs). She's also lost weight. Since both Al and I are concerned about this, I took her to the vet today. Not good news.

While doing his exam, our vet felt a mass in Sena's abdominal region. He did xrays, and while he couldn't give us a definitive answer, it looks like she has a mass on or near her spleen. This is quite common in dogs, unusual in cats, but not unheard of. He gave me three options: one, go to a specialist that could do an ultrasound and might be able to tell a little more. Price: $250ish. The answer still won't be definitive. Two, exploratory surgery. He'd open her up, see what it was, and if possible, remove it. Expensive, and sounding a bit too familiar. The last time we did exploratory surgery on one of my animals--Sadie--he ended up having to close her right back up and put her to sleep before the anesthetic wore off completely. She had a tumor the size of his fist and several smaller tumors--too many to count--all over her colon. That was one of the worst days of my life. (Not exaggerating--I loved that dog more than a lot of people I know.) Third option, start Sena on a chemo regiment and see if it helps. This would mean assuming she had some type of cancer and hoping we were guessing at the right medication. Price: $80 for an IV treatment and more for pills.

I trust our vet, so I asked what he would do. Option three won out; for one, Sena has a heart condition that killed her brother (but we caught hers early, and it isn't as severe) and might not be able to take the anesthetic. Ultrasound may not give us answers. He's had cats Serena's age that have done very well on chemo regiments without having definitive diagonses, so we're trying that route first.

I'm trying not to think too much about Serena's possible cancer at this point. Cancer took my dog when she was only five; cancer took my mom when she was only fifty-nine. I have an intense hatred of the word and disease in its many forms now, and when I think about cancer taking my cat, too, it's not easy. She was my only company when I was away at school for three years, and she's such a good companion: loud, opinionated, quirky, loving. And now five pounds lighter than she was nine months ago. Sena doesn't act like she's in pain, so I'm just trying to love on her as much as possible and praying that this medication works. I probably won't ever have another cat (Al's allergic to them), and I'm not ready to let go of her yet.