For the last couple of weeks (the last few weeks, really) Quinn has been doing really fantastic - very much “herself” again, like she was before she started getting sick. It’s been marvelous, even though I’m still pilling her once a day (with just the steroid). That said, her appetite has been kind of all over the place; it’s to be expected, after a month or more on antiemetics and appetite stimulants - but in the last few days it’d taken a strong downturn, and she’d started vomiting again. Not bad “every twenty minutes for a couple of hours” vomiting like before she started treatment, but it still worried me. I mentioned it in a couple of private internet spots, but left this info off Twitter - where so many of Quinn’s fans hang out - because I didn’t want to needlessly worry anyone.
And lucky for us, she was scheduled for a followup ultrasound and bloodwork today. We set it up before we left last time and it was hypothetically routine, but with cancer…nothing is really routine, so I’ve been pretty anxious about it.
I got halfway to Tacoma before I realized I’d forgotten deodorant. That kind of anxious.
At any rate, I dropped her off in accordance with clinic procedure, filled out my paperwork, paid a deposit estimate* of $1200 (thanks again, GoFundMe supporters, I’m serious)… and indulged my usual “routine” when I’m here: I went to a nearby McDonald’s for breakfast, then parked myself at a Starbucks down the street to wait for the phone call.
The phone call took about six hours to arrive, and it was not what we’d hoped for. It wasn’t even what I’d feared, it was something altogether differently terrible: the mass in her stomach remains low-key/virtually gone, but the lymphoma is more aggressive than anticipated - as it sometimes goes. This one has sprouted several fresh masses, and more pressingly, it’s spread swiftly and furiously to her kidneys and they are beginning to falter. That’s why she started throwing up a few days ago. Her white blood cell count - which was “terrific” on her last visit - has dropped so low that they couldn’t even give her the oral chemo, in an effort to bat cleanup or buy a little more good time. Her system isn’t strong enough for it.
To say that we are crushed is something of an understatement.
Especially given the outpouring of support through the GoFundMe, I feel both miserably sad and frankly guilty - it was a lot of money! And for… not nothing, but not what we’d hoped. She’s had an excellent month, we’ve done a lot of playing and she’s eaten a whole menu of weird foods we’d never thought to give her before, even though she’s begged in the past.
At the moment, she’s scarfing down some dinner after yowling for treats upon returning home. We aren’t sure how long this little reprieve will hold, but we have steroids and antiemetic, as well as her traditional gabapentin for her janky little joints.
So today was officially The End of the Road so far as chemo or aggressive treatment goes. The cancer is more aggressive than the available medicine, and the fact is, it’s gonna win. Sooner rather than later, if we understand correctly.
I set the GoFundMe goal high enough to cover up through today’s ultrasound, and I actually calculated pretty closely - within ten bucks, once they refunded me a little (since she couldn’t have the oral chemo). But she will still have another vet visit or two (or more?) to check her blood and keep her in comfort meds, and then, much as it pains us, a final appointment.
We will have her cremated, like we did the dearly departed eldercat. They can go back to hanging out butt-to-butt, but this time on a little memorial shelf.
Until then, we will do our level best to keep her happy and comfortable and spoiled just plain silly.
I wish I had something else useful or eloquent to say here, but I don’t. I tried. That’s all, I guess: I tried. I did literally everything that could be done (with loads of help from my husband and you readers) and it wasn’t enough. Sometimes it’s like that, I know. That doesn’t make it any easier.
Anyway. That’s what happened. That’s where we are.
I need to go call her local vet now, and then go walk the dogs.
Thanks again, everyone. It’s been a hard year, but it would’ve been harder if I’d tried to do this alone.
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[*] They stated upfront that she might also be dosed with a further round of oral chemo, depending on what they find, thus the “estimate.” The oral chemo isn’t very expensive tho, relatively speaking. It’s the ultrasound itself that costs the big bucks on this visit.