13 June 2014

I Wish I Knew What To Do

It's hard to believe that I'm wearing a sweater at the moment. It's suppose to be over 90 degrees today, and the ants are storming the house, and everything growing in the garden would like a nice long drink of cool water, and I'm wearing a sweater.

Friday the thirteenth Fullmoon Friday the 13th. I'll probably take a picture of it.

I just microwaved some bacon and ate a half of an orange. The bacon smell brought Si out, so I fed him again this morning. He is losing weight and we don't know why. He's been tested and his liver, kidneys, and thyroid are normal. His CBC is normal. The ultrasound, for which he had to have his tummy shaved, shows no lumps or anything abnormal. The next test is to have a tube shoved down his throat to take a look around and biopsy his intestines. Assuming there is cancer or irritable bowel disease.

It started earlier this year. He stopped jumping up. His hind quarters were wasting away. I took him and he was x-rayed and drugged up because man was he pissed. All these smelly people cooing at him to get him to comply. No way he hissed. Now his chart says "Caution!" My cat Silas. The doctor said he curled his tongue when he hissed at her. A sure sign he wasn't kidding. They gave him a double dose of sedative and when he came home, he was messed up.

But we received a diagnose. Si has severe arthritis in his tailbone. Cortisone is the treatment. So he was given a shot, and then when it wore off, I started giving him liquid doses in his food or shot into his mouth. Let the dance begin. Si is no fool. Picked up on the tone of voice, the body language, the cupboard door opening. A month later I call the doctor. The drug seems to be working, but what can we do to fatten him up.

That's when they tested his thyroid. And weighed him. He had lost 13 more ounces. My shrinking Si.

The thing about the next test is if they find cancer or IBD, there is no cure. The palliative drug is cortisone. If they don't find anything, the next test is cut him open and biopsy a cross section of his colon. Talk about invasive. And the other thing that really bothers me is he hasn't been barfing, or had any poopy problems at all. And since he has been on cortisone, he will jump up on the desk and play with his toys.  In other words, he is not acting like he's sick. He is just turning into a skeleton.


  1. Poor Si! Is he getting any better?

    When I read "My cat Silas." I felt like it said so much. I hope he's okay.

    1. He is the same. Shrinking. He eats and poops, really normal and regular. And he seems happy and playful, almost kittenish. I don't want my eyes all puffy when I go to work tomorrow, but I can't stop crying. I don't know what to do.


Thanks for sharing!