The deed is done

I finally succumbed to peer pressure - how could I legitimately continue to snark about something I've not yet tried?

I hereby confirm that, on the 30th day of this, the month of January, 2011, I did officially and (somewhat) voluntarily lose my Facebook virginity. Echoes of shock, horror, disbelief and utter sarcasm have since emanated and ricocheted across the globe, ruffling the virtual pages of aforementioned Book of Face. Oh how the mighty 'luddite' has fallen.

I'm still overwhelmed by the sensation of so much 'noise' coming at me from everyone's news stream (she wrote, trying to get jiggy with the terminology, but likely failing miserably). Notes appearing on my wall....getting emails about notes on my wall, inviting friends and getting notes, emails and postings that they've accepted the invite.....and then getting notes about things that their friends have posted etc. I suspect I haven't yet figured out my notification settings properly because it's like being bombarded with he said, she said, this, that and the other.

I'm not sure if I'm replying to people's comments directly to them or am I posting to their 'wall' for all to see? Can everyone else see the comments I get? I haven't figured out that part yet but it's weird to read a series of incoming postings from a bunch of strangers who happen to be friends of a friend of a friend of a friend...of another friend...who's also a friend....of a friend who's a friend of someone I know. Am I meant to still care about friends 17 times removed?

I'm really not sure this Facebook mallarky is something I'll continue with - I'm still inherently creeped out by the whole idea - but I might have gained half a point on the street-cred meter and at least I'll get up to date with some of what's happening in everyone else's life, rather than feeling so sadly out of the loop.

But you know what, it actually was kind of fun today, just throwing out a sporadic thought, observation, criticism etc and seeing what came back.

Déjà vu- all over again, again, again and again.

You could be forgiven for thinking you hear an echo, let me explain.

Three weeks, 6 veterinary visits, 3 hospitalizations, 6 x-rays, 1 ultrasound, 1 sedation, 1 spleen biopsy, 3 different injections in the clinic, 4 at-home injections, 1 enema, 2 urine analyses, 1 feline blood panel, 1 geriatric blood panel, 1 cystocentesis, 1 radiographic written report, several rounds of subcutaneous fluids plus multiple prescriptions of cisapride, cyproheptadine, famotidine, adequan, sulcrate suspension, rhus toxicodendron homeopathic anti-inflammatory medication..... oh and a running total of about $3082 later......and we just might have identified a couple of things up with Mishka, albeit still no official conclusion at to why she constantly refuses to eat but often barfs if/when she does! Yikes, did I manage to say all that in one breath? Not without breaking a nervous sweat, I assure you.

This has been an expensive and frustrating month - actually 3 weeks - of exploring different things in a partially futile attempt to figure out what's going on with her. Heck I might as well sign over my paycheque directly to the vet, except that it's already exceeded my average take-home pay for the month. And while I know it's really not about the money per se, since I wholeheartedly accept full responsibility for Mishka's care, health and well-being - just wanting to find out what's wrong with her and what, if anything, can be done to improve her health and quality of life - it's still a huge chunk of money in a short space of time, especially right after Christmas and especially when we haven't really found the root cause of her gastro-intestinal issues.

Anyhooo, in pursuing chest/hip x-rays out of fear/suspicion something more ominous might yet be lurking there, we did discover that Mishka has something whacky going on with her front right shoulder joint in addition to definite signs of osteo-arthritis in both hips. At 13.5yrs old, the 'baby' of our feline family is sadly starting to show her age and in more ways than one. A specialist review of her x-rays determined that the look of breadcrumbs around her right shoulder area and a little on the left, is typical of a condition known as osteochondromatosis - calcifications/small particles of bone around the synovial fluid in her joints which are no doubt causing her some stiffness and discomfort and, along with the arthritis now showing in her hips, explains why she's much slower and hesitant lately when going up/down the stairs at home. Alas, the best we can do is give her anti-inflammatory and/or pain management medication (adequan), although a couple of injections of the latter seemed to make her lethargic, depressed and withdrawn, so we've had to hold off for now.

On top of that, when she finished off her first round of anti-nausea and appetite stimulant meds last week, she immediately began to go downhill. We noticed her drinking water profusely, refusing to eat for several days (again) and then barfing what little we even managed to force feed her (again).

Back to the vet we went and now, after further blood and urine tests this week, we received the added diagnosis that she is indeed at stage 1 of Chronic Renal Failure (CRF). Hence the echo-effect in the title of this post, since this is now the 4th time we're encountering this terminal disease; first Molly, then Otto, Kramer is presently at stage 3 and now it's Mishka's turn. It's a very sad diagnosis and not what you want to hear but if there's any 'benefit' to having gone through this already, it's that we know what to expect, we know how to handle it as best we can and we have a better understanding of the (unfortunate) limits of our own powers to heal or evade this degenerative condition. We can, however, help slow down it's progression - somewhat anyway. With regular doses of subcutaneous fluids, cats with CRF can continue to lead a very happy and largely healthy life for several more years and are generally not in too much discomfort, except for sometimes feeling unwell, until the end stage (stage 4) of the disease.

So now we have to add Mishka to the regular thrice-weekly rotation of subcutaneous (sub-Q) fluids that we've been giving Kramer for the past 18 months. Lorne runs the fluid while I'm the bearer of the needle, but both cats handle it very well, as did Otto before them, and are surprisingly easy-going about it, perhaps because it makes them feel better. (Unlike Molly who would literally fight us tooth and nail in that first year of giving her fluids.)

I'm not sure how I feel. I'm naturally a little frustrated that we haven't quite figured out Mishka's GI problems, but I'm also quite concerned about the bone degeneration and how that might progress and affect her mobility. Moreover, while CRF is nothing new in our house, it still adds a renewed and deep-seated sense of being so horribly powerless to prevent any of it. Our committment to giving them sub-Q fluids will help stabilize their condition but there's that nagging familiarity of just what lies ahead juxtaposed with the present unknown of how well Mishka might even respond to treatment or how fast her ailments might/might not progress.

The melancholy side of my nature feels acutely aware that this is the inevitable start to a slow but steady decline, but I have to enjoy each precious moment and accept that Lorne and I are equally committed to doing everything within our powers to keep our furry friends with us for as long as they are happy, comfortable and able to stay.

Yup, it sure feels like déjà vu.

We love - and have loved - them all dearly. Helping them in whatever way we can, especially when they need us most, is the least and regrettably the most we can do.

Argufying and Grumbulating: New Year celebrations in the No Fun City

Before January hightails it right on out of here already (where does the time go?), I thought I'd post my first Argufying & Grumbulating rant of 2011, not least because it's something that niggles me about this city every New Year.

Bless Vancouver - the self-proclaimed "World Class City" - with such a pervasive lack of enthusiasm for anything remotely 'fun' that even the local Vancouver arms of Canada's national television stations CTV & Global didn't actually have anything they could air from Vancouver by way of fun and celebrations as the clock struck midnight on New Years Eve.

Since the police get twitchy here the moment there's a gathering of more than 5 people (especially if they dare to dance) there's fat chance they'd let 1000s of partying revellers gather in public to celebrate New Year. Although, come to think of it, there isn't actually anywhere left in Vancouver that hasn't already been turned into anothering towering condo development that such a crowd could actually gather in one spot, even if they wanted to, which - as it unfortunately would appear - they don't!

The surprise yet very publicized (or carefully staged?) party atmosphere during the 2010 Winter Olympic Games really was an anomally for this city, although there was also $1 billion worth of our tax dollars spent on police/security to make sure no-one got too carried away, even at the Olympics. The atmosphere was buzzing and rumours began circulating that perhaps Vancouver might have finally outgrown it's claim to fame of being the "No Fun City" after all.

Nonetheless skeptics among us might suspect that actors and extras were brought in to simply 'act' the part, in a near-convincing role as cops joining in a spontaneous (?) game of street-hockey or patriotic fun-sters prompting cheering and singing in the streets. I might not question it so much except that - while the rest of the world seems to celebrate New Year's Eve - here you're lucky to find anything going on. Or at least anything where you don't have to line up for an hour, pay a $40 cover charge, only to enter an empty bar and be threatened with a 'rinse your mouth out at the dentist'-sized cup of something pissy to toast the New Year.

Even the respective Vancouver arm of our national TV-broadcasters CTV, CBC and Global actually went to commercials....I kid you not.... at 11:59pm!!!...and carefully ran them for the next 6mins, till any mere whaff of merrymaking was surely over and done with. Flicking to an American TV channel we got to watch/envy all the fantastic fireworks on the Seattle coverage or the pre-recorded New York/Toronto/Montreal New Year celebrations on a few other channels. But from Vancouver - nada, zip and diddley-squat! This city is like a morgue on New Year's Eve, so much so that even we've given up seeking out the decidedly anorexic list of possibilities. With not a single public event nor any such organized activities throughout the Lower Mainland this year, I believe the airing of back-to-back commercials by our local broadcasters was perhaps their best endeavour to hide the shame and spare us all the public humiliation of living up to our No-Fun-Couver nickname after all. Mind you, what could they have shown from Vancouver anyway, except for tumbleweed blowing down the deserted streets. Or maybe all the barren bars and restaurants - doors slammed shut at 6pm, lights out and upturned chairs on already dusty tabletops. No sign of life there either - nothing to see here folks! Only dark sky, naked of any signs of fireworks. Desolate silence across the empty night air save a couple of dogs barking in the distance - tricking you into thinking you might actually have heard someone shout "Happy New Year".

Admittedly, I'm still bitter about the big hoo-haaa over the New Millenium which fell well & truly flat on its arse here in Vancouver. Seriously, there was NOTHING going on. A friend and I braved the empty streets, fighting our way through the lack of people and pushing past the moths and dust bunnies at one of the few bars we could find that hadn't long-since boarded up its windows and bolted its doors, only to find ourselves stared at in amazement and confusion by the four thumb-twiddling wait staff who were evidently starved of attention and bored out of their tree.

Out of sheer bloody-minded determination we stuck it out and, as the clock struck midnight that night, we literally stood up & yelled over to the bar staff and the one other customer, "Happy New Year" - selfishly jolting them from their festering reverie. Otherwise it's safe to say, the new millenium would have snook in unnoticed and sadly without incident.

Alas, it seems Vancouver's dishonorary reputation of being a No-Fun City is still very much alive and kicking. Indeed at New Year, it's really the only thing that is.

Ho-hum and bah humbug!

The Perfect Nanny?

Just to prove it's not all about cats in my world, I thought I'd share this fabulous YouTube video - it just cracks me up. Who knew a dog could make such a terrific childminder?



Of course it helps that the kid has such a great laugh - love it!

This vid is my favourite de-grumpifying tonic if I'm having a crappy day.

Enjoy!

Every little helps

For the past few years I've made a lump sum charitable donation to the SPCA towards the end of year. In 2009 my year-end donation coincided with the heartbreaking loss of my amazing and wonderful cat, Lucy, who had herself once been rescued by the SPCA (possibly even twice). In Lucy's honour and loving memory I made my donation, directing it towards the SPCA's Biscuit Fund for Medical Care which provides urgent and life-saving medical treatment to animals in their care and is named after a remarkable dog who narrowly survived a heartless knife attack several years ago. Thankfully Biscuit was successfully treated and re-homed through the SPCA.

When it came to donating this time around my heart was also honouring (and still grieving) our vocal and endearingly bratty companion Otto, whom we sadly lost to old age just prior to Christmas, on Dec. 6th, and of course, not forgetting the wonderful yet feisty 9 lives of Molly (1987-2006). So for 2010 I made a general donation plus, in my New Year spirit/resolution to "Do" more, I finally signed up for the PAW Plan Monthly Giving (something I've been meaning to do for ages). I figure it's a relatively small thing to do considering the 4 incredible cats Lorne and I have shared thanks to the efforts of the SCPCA. (This excludes Mishka of course, because I bought her as a teeny tiny kitten/beanie baby for $10 from a man with a bag of kittens down at Steamworks pub in Gastown.)

In wandering around the SPCA website, I found another great funding program, 'Guardian Angel' where you can read about animals currently in their care awaiting adoption and even choose an animal for whom you can become a Guardian Angel by making a small contribution toward their care. The great thing is, you can also leave a supportive note that can be viewed by those looking through the adoption site.

Since Christmastime also signifies the anniversary of Lucy's passing, I was acutely aware of it being a full year since we said goodbye. No surprise then that I was moved to tears when I saw this little gem, Bella, who not only bears a striking resemblance to Lucy, but Bella's story definitely reminds me of the hardships and emotional struggles we strongly suspect Lucy had encountered before I adopted her in 1998 and the angst she showed in the early days.

There isn't a huge amount of space to write your personal message but perhaps just as well because it forced me to keep it brief. Amid a few tears, I wrote my note for Bella: "Bella's traumatic past & related anxieties sound a lot like those my cat Lucy had endured. With love, patience, nurturing & reassurance Lucy flourished, revealing an endless capacity to love & trust. She was a true blessing. Bella will be too!" Heck, it was all I could do to stop myself from driving to the Okanagan SPCA right there and then to collect her for myself :-)

Anyhow, I'm pleased to report that I got the following lovely email yesterday informing me that Bella has actually just been adopted:

"Dear Guardian Angel,

Great news!! We are pleased to let you know that thanks to your support, Bella was welcomed into her new "forever home" in Penticton on January 15, 2011.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Happy endings like this are only possible with the generous support of animal lovers like you.

As you know, the BC SPCA is a charity entirely reliant on community support. We could not care for the tens of thousands of animals like we do each year without it. If Bella could thank you, she would too! "

I'm so happy and it's great that you get sent an update. I truly hope that her new family will give her all the love and devotion she so richly deserves to help her overcome the past and live out a long and very happy life! And I know Lucy would wish her the same.

Ingroun

Ever wondered about those odd little 'verification' words you get asked to type when leaving a comment on a blog or buying tickets or some such thing online? Is there some poor stressed-out elf somewhere, whose sole purpose in life is to come up with a new word every single time?

Leaving a comment on Vicky's blog just now, my mot-du-jour came up as "Ingroun". I couldn't help reading it with a Cockney accent:
"G'mauwnin' Doc - s'this 'orrible ingroun toe-naiyle, innit? S'bleedin' killin' me wenna wauwks dairn tha pub n'that."

Reminds me of the "sauwt" story of Wendy's (with whom Vicky and I shared some hilarious lunchtime stories while working at Richmond hospital a couple of years ago). It was also in the way she told it, but it still tickles me - about some Essex/London people she'd heard once at a restaurant overseas, asking the foreign waiter, "Oy, scuze me lav, you got any sauwt?" to which the waiter looked at them completely baffled, poor guy had no idea what they were saying. "Ave ya gorrany sauwt?" Still a perplexed look and shrugged shoulders...
"OY SAID," (because it always helps to SHOUT at foreigners) "AVE... YOU... GORRANY... SAUWT? Ya knairrrr....SAUW-T!!!....to put on me chips!"

Bless! Love it!

Say it ain't so.

I'd love to improve my memory - if I could only remember where I left the damn thing! I don't know what it is with me lately, I can't seem to remember anything and I'm not convinced that what I 'think' I remember isn't actually just a figment of my rather furtive imagination - or else a somewhat embellished version of events. I'd blame it on the fact I smashed my forehead into the closed glass door of the local Cobs Bakery just before Christmas (nearly knocking myself unconscious) but this constant feeling of 'blankness' had already started even before that and almost definitely contributed to the fact I walked into the stupid door in the first place.

I've always had a pretty sharp memory - especially when it came to names, numbers, dates etc. And I mastered two foreign languages, so there must be a bit of brain in there somewhere, but I've lost count of the number of times lately that I dart upstairs, apparently on a mission, only to get halfway up and realize I've forgotten what the heck I was about to do. Same when I go shopping - I have to take a list with me almost every time, which I hardly ever used to do. I'll often leave the house intending to head somewhere and then blank on where it was I was planning to go. Similarly, I can watch a movie and less than a week later I start to tell someone about it but realize I'm mixing it up with the fragments of another that I might have seen and actually don't really remember either film all that well. If I'm reading, I might plough through several pages only to realize I don't really remember anything of what I just read. I struggle to recollect what I did at the weekend and feel increasingly frustrated by my constant vagueness on what, where, how, when and why. I'm constantly misplacing my gloves and can never find any of the 101 lip balms that I know I have floating around the place, somewhere.

(Ironically, and to prove my point, I sat merrily typing away the above paragraph, only to suddenly realize I'd completely forgotten that I was supposed to meet my friend 15 minutes ago, with whom I'd made the arrangements just 20minutes before that! See what I mean?)

Since it has been hinted at that this memory-loss might be a symptom of pre-menopause, also known as perimenopause, which instills enough fear and dread in me as it is, I decided to look it up online.

Firstly, can I just say that having this photo embedded in an article about symptoms of perimenopause
really does not offer any reassurances or make me feel any better. Nothing personal against this woman, I'm sure she's a lovely lady who was hopefully paid handsomely by the photographer/Istock, but I think I can be forgiven for feeling that the implication is very much, "(Pre)Menopause? Abandon hope all ye who enter here."

(Or am I unnerved that she looks like the Crazy Cat Lady that I fear/suspect I'll become?)

Nevertheless, I tentatively began to read the text but glazed over during the bla-bla about primordial follicles and release of FSH and LH etc, and went back to google another site instead. Only this one lists the 34.....thirty-flippin-four.... symptoms of perimenopause. What the f.....? As if menopause doesn't already sound like an irrational hormonal nightmare in itself, you're telling me that I can expect about 34 wonderful symptoms for up to a decade beforehand, all in eager anticipation of the main event? Great! Juuuuust great!

I won't list them all here (it's pretty disconcerting) but 'twould appear I probably have about half of the symptoms listed, though thankfully perhaps the 'better' half.....I guess the rest are yet to come. What joy! (she wrote, with a palpably scathing air of sarcasm).

Anyhow, I'm trying to figure out which is the lesser of two evils...either I'm simply losing my mind or I'm hastily signing up the full orchestra for my very own menopausal symphony. Tough call!

I resolve to "DO more"

The first week of the new year seems to have been as oddly disjointed as was most of 2010. A short week at work still involved the usual craziness and some overtime already (though I did get to take Friday p.m. off to make up for it, so that's a good start) and much of the week was spent going back and forth to the vet - with both Mishka and Kramer - or else talking to various veterinary staff and technicians.

While I did manage to start off the New Year quite well with a visit to the gym and a 1-hour spin on my bike using the wonderfully snazzy "Elite Fluid Indoor Bike Trainer" (which looks a lot like this) that Lorne got me for Christmas, the rest of the week entailed much demolishing of leftover Christmas treats, too much great belgian beer and an amazing plate of chips and curry sauce at the local pub, The Three Lions. The pub (even though it's name says 'cafe') is literally a hop, skip and tuck'n'roll from our house and they serve THE best chips in Vancouver.....and by chips I mean the British version not to be confused with the North American counterpart to 'crisps'. Big, fat, freshly chipped spuds and an outstanding curry sauce poured over top - delicious, but really not the kind of thing for new year dietary improvement plans....oops!

As for the veterinary visits - well it all started when Mishka (left) decided to stop eating, stop poohing and began instantly barfing up even the tiniest amount of food (which we were having to force feed her using a syringe, just to get something into her). A certain amount of prodding, palpating and 2 x-rays later revealed a severely distended colon, aka megacolon, entirely packed with pooh. As you can see from the photo, she's a giant hairball. A black furry cushion with eyes, which is a big part of her problem. Even though we frequently trim her hair - which is never very pretty and makes the term 'had an argument with a lawnmower' seem like a compliment - she nonetheless still ingests a lot of it when she grooms and thereby gets all 'backed up'.

And then there's Kramer who was also due for a health check-up that would now include a couple of mystery lumps - one under his chin for which he's having a fine needle aspirate tomorrow) and a small black spot/lump on his hind quarters, which thankfully appears to be benign. Kramer's also still emotionally out of sorts since we lost Otto last month and frequently takes to the most woeful yowling and crying, like someone's pulling his legs off or something. (Heaven knows what our neighbour thinks we must do to the poor guy.) We're at a loss what to do to help him feel better, since he already gets an abundance of love and snuggles, but giving him a few drops of Rescue Remedy definitely seems to help....for a little while.

Anyhow, last Monday - our last day of the holidays - was spent mostly at the Animal Wellness Hospital just down the street from us - a fabulously well-run holistic veterinary practice. We've been back a few more times throughout the week with Mishka and she too is back there again tomorrow for an ultrasound to see just what might be causing her issues. It's certainly not been a cheap week (I might as well just hand over my Visa card and shout 'go nuts') but poor Mishka has always had a chronic problem with eating/digesting her food which was diagnosed 6 years ago as being motility issues in her digestive tract, although no one's ever offered a real solution or treatment for it. Now that I've followed Lorne's idea and have started taking her to the folks at Animal Wellness, I feel like she's getting the care she needs, and deserves, which will hopefully ease her ongoing discomfort. Naturally, after seeing a similar series of events with our late and beloved Lucy just over a year ago, I can't help the fearful part of my mind wondering if we might be looking at the same problem with Mishka, although I try to hold hope since her bloodwork came back looking good and her digestive problems have actually plagued the majority of her 13.5 years on this earth, so it's really nothing new. Unlike Lucy, who had a cast iron - and rather rotund - stomach prior to the devastating diagnosis of cancer.

So that was week one......and now I find myself still trying to figure out what targets/plans I should set for myself this year. I'm not one for making 'Resolutions' per se, since that always feels like I'm punishing myself - trying to set ambitious targets that I'll only end up beating myself up about when, come December 31st, I'll realize I failed miserably and am simply a sad, pothetic, slob after all. One thing that worked well for me a couple of years ago was to set myself an action plan - a list of courses & projects to do - which I broke down into quarterly instalments and felt good about when, at each 3-month review, realized I had, for once, actually done what I set out to do. Mostly anyway. In fact even seeing the things I did do, meant I was much easier on myself about the few things that I maybe hadn't got around to or hadn't fully completed.

I'm working on this year's plan, but for now my 2011 motto is 'do more'.....which will have to go hand-in-hand with 'drink less', since I'm prone to wanting a glass of wine/beer/scotch in the evenings which, once I've had one, makes me feel too relaxed/lethargic to actually get around to 'doing' much else...tut, tut, tut!....and often leads to a second drink instead. Which, while still being considerably less than your average character in a half-hour episode of Coronation Street, does no doubt have me marked - by Canadian standards - as an alcoholic. Hey, I'll drink to that! :-)