Grandmama

Grandmama died last Saturday. With all of the events of Froglet's birth and our current living fiasco (more updates on that in a few days), we've barely had time to process her death.

My grandma was 93. She lived a full life and always talked about how lucky she was to have wonderful children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. We always told her it was her "fault" - she must have done something right to end up with a great family!

Grandma was the matriarch of the family and held us tightly together. I hope that we can remain close without her presence to tie us together.

Little Froglet will never get to meet her great grandma - but Grandmama got to meet her. The last time I visited in August, I held Grandmama's hand to my belly and watched her face light up as Froglet kicked her hard! So, we'll get to tell Froglet the story of how she kicked her great-grandma and how excited she was to hear about Froglet's impending arrival. Of course we'll have tons of other stories to tell about great-grandma - picking blueberries and huckleberries at her house, making hotcakes, and working in the garden, and how much fun stacking wood can be.

Reaching the end

I've mentioned before (but not for a while) that a classmate of mine is struggling with the recurrance of her cancer. We just found out that she was moved to a hospice home this weekend after a brief visit to the ER. She's got a great blog set up and it's so nice to see all of the messages of support from the friends she made far and wide. But it's terribly sad as well. Her father has been able to fly in (he's not local) and her sister and niece have come to visit. But this feels like a sudden downturn and has come as a shock to most of us.

No one's talking about time lines, but hospice is a clear signal that recovery isn't what we're hoping for now. I just wish her peace and hope that her family has left nothing unsaid.

brrrrrrrrrr

Today is a sad day around here: Miles finally succumbed to the tumor that was in his belly. We had to put him down this morning.

We had Miles for 2-1/2 years. Most of the time he was pretty great, except when he was peeing in bad places or throwing up on the rug. It's pretty sad to not have him around anymore.

This was a post he wrote a while back, but I was never able to get around to publishing it for him.

We'll miss you Miles.

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So, FeedMe and PetMe seemed to have settled in this strange place they're calling The Middle. They say that, "The Middle" and then laugh in this strange way that's not really a laugh. They're so strange. But, who cares, I'm a cat. The important thing is that they haven't forgotten to feed me and pet me (respectively). So, the food's fine in this joint. But recently, it's been awfully cold around these parts. PetMe has been wearing funny things on her head (did she grow some winter fur? It's green... strange). And my paws get so cold walking across the floors. So, I meow and meow and meow and meow... trying to tell them to turn up the heat already. Sheesh. It's cold people, you can turn up the heat a little.

Well, even though they only speak a little Cat, they seemed to have figured it out (maybe it was the meowing at 4am? I think they are better speakers of Cat in the morning. Hmm, maybe a controlled test? Early versus late meowing? Must try it out.). They got me this magic carpet. It's so wonderful and it's my new best friend. I will never leave it ever ever ever again. PetMe said that it came from Ben and Jerry. I don't know what's up with that, those dudes sure were crabby when I hung out with them. Maybe this is their peace offering? And she said something about some dude named Tyler too. I hear that his PetMe is sad about him... sorry dude.

So, the magic carpet. It rocks. I was a little suspicious at first (what with it smelling a little like Ben Jerry and Tyler (I assume). But once I realized the magic possiblilities, I was hooked. It seems to be like snuggling with my old littermates, back in the old days. If only my mom could see me now!


Some times PetMe comes by and pets me (wonder where she got that name? I'm a cat, not a poet, people.) She seems a little sad. I don't know what her deal is. Maybe she wants me to go on a diet? I'm don't know what's up with this potbelly, must be all of lounging these days. Well, I'll hit the gym and see if I can get a little more buff.

Heartbroken

We got some very sad news today. Miles has some tumors that are likely cancer. They seem to be growing quickly (we noticed the lumps right before leaving for Thanksgiving) and the test results suggest that they are affecting his liver.

We'll try to be the best pet parents we can be; which for us means to make sure he's comfortable and happy for as long as possible. The vet thinks that some diet changes might reduce the strain on his liver and give him a little more time. It's likely that we won't be entering him in the best housecat competition at the state fair next year. We're both pretty shaken up and sad that we're losing our little furry friend. I don't know how I'll finish all my classes without his help.

Miles at his most content - sleeping

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update 12/4: Turns out that the tumors are definitely impacting his liver. His blood test results show that he has liver damage and maybe some kidney problems (although that could also be due to dehydration). The vet recommends that we try a prescription cat food and a medication that reduces the stress on a damaged liver. None of this will cure him, but it could keep him going a little bit longer before we have to deal with organ failure.

The C word

It strikes again. A classmate of mine just found out that her cancer has metastasized. She's been in remission for the last few years but hasn't been feeling well for a month now. It's never a good time to find out, but it's been particularly harsh for her to not be able to finish out the semester. Chemo starts in a few weeks. We don't know the prognosis yet, but it's not looking good. This is a very rare cancer, and the fact that it has metastasized is very bad.

We're working on a plan to help - groceries, company, dinner.... but we can't help with the bills. The rough part about being a grad student (or really just a person in the US) is that health insurance is dependent on employment. We get fairly inexpensive insurance here. But what happens if she can't take classes and TA in the fall? Her insurance will expire in August. If she can't comeback, it will be because she's too sick. This means she'll need the insurance (chemo and cancer not being a particularly inexpensive disease). So she's also facing a terrible catch22. We talked about this a lot after Dad died. Illness is most expensive for those who can least afford it. Why we can as a nation afford billion (trillion? I don't even know) war and weapons but not health care?

Farm U is reminding me a bit of CityU right now. People have banded together and are acting like family, rather than the "system". We have quickly shifted into discussions about who will do what, and are trying to help and support each other. And interesting wrinkle is the cross-cultural nature of our department. I spent a while today talking with my officemate (from China) about the appropriate responses to finding out that she has cancer. Officemate was surprised that she knew- telling me that people with cancer in China never know, because their families don't tell them. This way, everyone is "happy". We talked for awhile about what it meant for the diagnosis and prognosis to be known. We talked about what types of support and comfort could be given. Although I A NOT GRATEFUL for me previous experiences with cancer (and PLEASE do NOT tell me anything like that), I know that I can rely a little bit on them, and be a better friend because of them. I know that I can avoid saying the unhelpful things- and instead offer a hug, a tissue, and a shoulder to cry on. I won't tell her it's going to be better. I won't tell her that it's part of the "plan". I don't know if she believes this or not. But I can offer her friendship right now.

So, tonight I'm sitting here, ostensibly writing a paper, and thinking about her. She's not writing her papers, as she can't focus with the dose of oxycodone she's on. We'll be babysitting her pet for a while, and doing what we can to make sure she's not alone.

And, for now, I'm feeling very sad. Very scared. And, honestly, pretty pissed off. Damn cancer. She's my age.