Memories

My Dad finished a memoir recently, which was a pretty cool thing to hand down. I learned some things about his mother that I did not know. I knew that she had a son who died at a young age, only a few months old. He was sick, and she took him to the doctor. She was told he just had a cold, and she was relieved. However, he never woke up that night. What I did not know is that my Grandmother also had a stillbirth girl about a year after that. I felt so sad reading that in my Dad's memoir. I'm sure she did not have the support she needed back then for these terrible tragedies. Eventually, my Grandmother gave birth at age 36 to my uncle. He was 12 years younger than my father, and the prized son after these sad losses.

My other Grandmother was finished having children at age 31. I wonder if she just did not want to have any more children, after basically raising all her seven siblings after her mother died, or she was just not able to have any more children. I learned some interesting things about "Grandma Cookie", as we called her, from my Dad's memoir also. She was engaged to my Grandfather after only knowing him a short time. They also did not speak the same language. He spoke English and she spoke Italian. My Grandfather proposed to my Grandma through both parents. After my Grandma accepted, they were married three weeks later. My Grandfather had to go back to the US soon after, as it was the Depression and he needed to get back to retain his job. My Grandmother ended up taking the boat to America a few months later by herself and three months pregnant. How amazingly gutsy was that of my Grandmother?! I can't even imagine how rough that journey was being pregnant with no airplanes and not speaking English in a new country.

My Dad said of me in his memoir, "Phoebe was born breech, which means that she came out butt first. She has always done things her own way." I don't know if this is a compliment or not. Unfortunately, it does seem to be true in the trying-to-get-knocked-up category. None of my uber-fertile sisters ever had any girly problems. One of my sisters did get pregnant at 40, which was encouraging to me. That was when I was 40-41 and I still had unwavering confidence in my eggs. I hope there is still a happy ending for my memoir when I write it.

Psycho PMS Bitch meets Grief Beast

The uncontrollable crying started yesterday. The tip off I had that this was PMS related was that I had the same thing happen last month; the sobbing while not really sure where it was coming from - from nowhere and everything at once. The other tip off was that I started spotting this morning. Why is it that PMS magnifies any sad feelings you are having a hundred times?

I was doing laundry today, and it reminded me of Fluffernutter. What cat doesn't like sleeping in the dirty laundry? That made me cry. I cried again for those who never were and were lost. With every new loss, the past losses feel as if they are happening fresh all over again.

I asked Magic to make dinner tonight. I smell something burning from downstairs and come up to see the kitchen filled with smoke. He left to go to his office and thought I would somehow magically intuit that I need to watch the soup. I was in such a rage. It was a good thing neither he nor Fluff were here. Screaming like that really does not make me feel better. It makes me feel psychotic and gives me a sore throat.

I can bear this knowing that it is transitory and will only last a day, the PMS that is. I wish there was an antidepressant I could take for a day or two only for PMS. Should I have known that if I suffer severe and sometimes suicidal mood swings during PMS that I would have pre-natal suicidal depression? Not even the neurotransmitter precursors I am taking as a supplement help with this type of hormone crash. I suppose I should be happy that I have any hormones to crash. I'm hoping that is the silver lining in all of this.

I had a couple of disturbing dreams the other night. I dreamt that Fluff was alive and healthy. I said to Magic in the dream, "how is this possible? She was dead?!" He said, "I need to give you and explanation." My mind was frantic, thinking, "did I take her to be cremated and she was actually still alive??!" I never got an answer, as that was where the dream ended. The next dream was about a cat who had markings like Fluff, but was not as fluffy. She came to me, as many of my cats do, and had a long stitched up scar along her body. She was someone else's cat, because she had a collar with tags on, but I didn't want to know who she belonged to. I wanted to keep her. Grief has a funny way of working its way out in your dreams.

I've had moments of feeling exhausted over the past couple of days. It's that monster, grief again. When I let the exhaustion really overcome me, the tears soon follow. I know grief is crushing me and I need to let it out. I guess I haven't really let it sink in how much of a hole in my heart has been exposed by Fluffernutter's passing. My super-ego says, "she was just a cat, get over it." I come home and look for her, but she's not here. She's not in the laundry. She's not anywhere. I can't even hold onto her in my dreams.

This is like some modern day horror movie, Psycho PMS Bitch meet Grief Beast. I wish it were entertaining like the cheesey Godzilla meets King Kong. I wish it was a movie, but it's all too real. All I can do is hold on and hope tomorrow is a better day. I'm still waiting to be happy again, someday.

Fluff the Magic Kitty

I've been in a funk since Monday. I'm no longer interested in having children.

This may have something to do with the fact that our geriatric cat, Fluffernutter, went to kitty heaven yesterday. Last week, we made the difficult decision to stop giving her subcutaneous fluids when we saw that they were not helping much anymore and just prolonging the inevitable. She hung on for a week.

In March, I think I predicted that she had three to six months to live. Last year, I worried that she would die after our loss. Not only did she stick around, but just after her 19th birthday in July, she became sweeter than ever. She did something that was so characteristically un-Fluff. She started sleeping with us in bed. She would jump on the bed as we were brushing our teeth, meowing for us to hurry up so she could dive under the covers with us. We wondered who swapped our kitty while we weren't looking, but she still looked like Fluffernutter.

You have to understand that Fluffernutter was one of those neurotic pure breed cats who would beg for pets, then run away when you tried to give them to her. The fact that she would come to you for attention was a real shocker. When I met her, she was just this white blur you saw when she was running away. She also lived in the shadow of her younger brother's big personality, aka Mister B. Mr. B was always shoving Fluff out of the way when it came to giving out pets, eating her food, and taking his pissy moods out on her. Mr. B was dumb as a box, and Fluff was the smart but silent type. They were inseparable.

Fluffernutter and Mr. B, aka Frick 'n Frack,

in fluffier days

When Magic was a bachelor before we married, he left out dry food for his cats 24/7. I told him this wasn't good for cats, but he felt guilty denying them. Mr. B ended up with diabetes, and Magic finally let me teach him how to make a raw food for them. Mr. B needed less insulin with the new diet, living another 4.5 years after being on the brink of death, and Fluffernutter became not so nutter. Loud sucking noises could be heard whenever she was eating, she loved the new food so much. Suddenly, she became a much more personable and sweet kitty. When Mr. B passed two years ago, I think Fluff finally came into her own now that she was the only cat in the house.

I worried that Fluff would die right after our FET failed. She was the one that spent the most time with me through two bed rests. She held on while I grieved for two months post-FET failure. I am grateful that she lived until now because I don't think I would have been able to deal with her loss any sooner.

I started singing this song (below) this past weekend. Fluff stopped eating about last Thursday. She joined me on her own last Saturday while I was gardening. I took this picture of her enjoying her last day outside. I couldn't believe that she had the energy to make it all the way outside and back inside again. She was the amazing magic kitty who we were beginning to wonder if she would ever die.

It all fell apart on Monday, Fluff's body. This is the day I thought I do not want to have children. Running a kitty hospice was more exhausting than I thought. I just didn't want her to suffer anymore. Tuesday, our vet was able to help her go to kitty heaven while still laying in her favorite spot on our bed.

Goodbye Fluff, we'll miss you (*sniff*)!

(sung to Puff_the_Magic_Dragon)

Fluff the magic kitty lived in our house,
She was so sweet and very meek, and couldn't catch a mouse!
Little Phoebe Phoenix loved that rascal Fluff,
And brought her strings and cat toy things and other fancy stuff. ohhh

Fluff the magic kitty, she was our friend,
She fought to live, though really sick, up to the bitter end!
Magic and his sons loved that crazy Fluff,
And gave her pets and kisses wet, and other lovey stuff!

Late Night Baby Food Runs

I've been buying baby food recently at the store. The first time I did it, I felt weird. No babies have been dropped off at my doorstep. It's for Fluffernutter, my cat. Fluff is at the end of her 9th and a half life. She is nearing 20 years old, but I fear she will not make her next birthday. It's been a challenge to figure out what she will eat anymore. At first, the baby food idea worked great. Now, about the only thing she will eat is canned tuna.

We've been playing geriatric cat games, like "find the cat pee", which I usually discover by stepping in it. She's gotten so weak that her back legs don't work very well anymore. I justify her peeing on the floor because it must be hard to get in and out of the litter box, but then I catch her nimbly navigating the box. Other days, she gets everything but one back leg in the litter box and ends up launching her pee off the back of the box onto the floor. One day, she didn't even bother with the back legs - just put her front legs in the litter box and started peeing. Luckily, that one of the four litter boxes she has to choose from in the house has a tray under it that catches the errant pee.

She has deteriorated to the point that we have made the difficult decision to stop giving her subcutaneous fluids and let nature take it's course. I think we have been doing this for three years. I've made friends with 22 gauge needles in that time. When it came time to do PIO shots myself, I figured if my 6 pound cat can handle it, so can I.

Fluffernutter has a great will to live. She's trying to make her failing kidneys work, but her parts have worn out. I'm just trying to keep her comfortable right now, poor thing.

Show & Tell: Fluffernutter Sandwich

To make a Fluffernutter sandwich, first you need a Fluffernutter. Fluffernutter is my long haired, seal point Himalayan, slightly neurotic, 19 year old cat. For the first, oh, 12 years of her life, Fluffernutter was a scaredy cat who would run away when you tried to pet her. Once I came into Magic's life, we changed her diet, and she had a personality change for the better. She still only occasionally slept with us. In the last couple of months, she has had yet another personality change that has coincided with her cessation of nocturnal yowling. We do not know what instigated this, but we've been enjoying Fluffernutter sandwiches ever since. For this Show & Tell, you have to visualize this one as I can't take pictures of it. Click here to see pictures from the last Show & Tell of Fluffernutter.

First, Fluffernutter will get in position when it gets close to bed time. She will stalk the end of the bed or levitate on top of it in anticipation of the Fluffernutter sandwich. Once Magic and I get in bed, Fluff will make her move under the sheets between us. Magic and I used to spoon together, snuggled up, but Fluffernutter has decided she wants a piece of the action. Once we have turned Fluff around so her butt is not in my face, Magic and I will squeeze Fluffernutter between us and make the Fluffernutter sandwich. She seems to love this, being squished between us as Magic and I cuddle together.

Magic is kinda miffed that Fluff has interrupted our sacred snuggling time, but I don't mind. I keep saying to him that she won't live forever and we should enjoy it while we can. After Fluff was peeing all over the house recently, we discovered that her kidney values have doubled, which means that her kidneys are getting worse. We already knew they were bad. We were giving her subcutaneous fluids every other day, but now we have to give her fluids everyday. Giving a cat subcutaneous fluids is nothing like giving yourself a subcutaneous shot. We use a 22 gauge needle that we put under her skin by piercing it, and then inject 100 ml of an electrolyte solution.

<- Fluff (patiently getting fluids) and fluids ->.

Fluff won't die tomorrow, but her days are more numbered than usual.

Join the rest of the class at this week's Mel's Show & Tell.

The Bionic Man

Just a quick update on Steve Austin Magic. He came home Wednesday night and has been driving me crazy recuperating ever since. He is walking around on crutches. The first week has been quite painful for him, but that was to be expected. Already, he can tell his gait will be different once he has healed. He'll be better, stronger, and faster than he was before!

Live Blogging Action: Surgery Waiting Room

I was inspired by Mel's live blogging from the BlogHer Conference, so I thought I'd give it a try now. I'm currently in the surgery waiting room while Magic is beginning his transformation. I was very nervous yesterday about him going into surgery. I didn't like the idea of being in a hospital again. It's kinda nice to be on the support end rather than the receiving end. This time, I'm not the one getting poked, proded, or cut into. This is the easy part. The hard part is to come. The hardest part is watching your loved one suffer. I'm hoping that they will be able to manage his pain while he heals.

I signed up for the IComLeaveWe before Magic decided to have his surgery this week. I don't know how much I'll realistically be able to comment this week. Magic is my #1 priority. I think I can do it today, since Magic will be in the recovery room after surgery for another hour and a half.

The most exciting thing that has happened so far is that I heard my name being called while they were wheeling Magic off to surgery. I thought it was our male nurse, but it turned out to be a guy I know from work who look like he was getting prepped for surgery too! I said a quick "hi" and "good luck" as I didn't have time to talk.

I'll be waiting for the dreaded talk with the surgeon which should be in the next 15 to 45 minutes. Let's hope everything is going well in there!