So Christmas is two days away. I've made end-of-year donations, bought and wrapped presents, planned Christmas dinner, planned our contribution to Christmas-eve dinner, and will go food shopping today. I feel ... fine, though not terribly festive.
I just read a blog post in which the author said that as a child, he wished that everything could always stay as it was -- that he loved Christmas and felt warm and loved. As an adult, he gets very blue at this time of year and tries to crawl his way through it.
I'm rather the opposite. Through most of my childhood, I despised Christmas. The best part was the day after when the next ordeal was an entire year away.
Now as an adult, I get to create my own holiday and for myself, try to make the day itself as peaceful, loving, and calm as absolutely possible. Our usual pattern is to wake up, light a fire, have breakfast, open presents, clean up, and cook. This year, a dear friend will be joining us after the morning festivities. We'll have a nice dinner, laze about the fire, and be in bed at a reasonable hour. It is possible to have Christmas without chaos.
And the kitty is still with us, so she gets to celebrate Christmas, and we get to celebrate having her there. I think her tumor is getting a little bigger; I've recently caught her chewing gently on that side of her (otherwise empty) mouth and last night I thought I saw her chewing food on the good side of her mouth only.
On the other hand, we went to the vet yesterday, and he was delighted to see how alert she was. In fact, when he walked into the room, she was lying on her side purring really loudly. (It's ironic to have a cat who's both getting sicker and healthier at the same time.) I've rarely seen a cat purr even a little at the vet's. I told him she likes being there, and he said "All Riiight" and gave her a little noogie on her head, which just made her purr more.
Later, during catupuncture, he stuck a needle in and she nipped him (not hard -- just a warning that he'd better quit) and hissed, but then settled right in once all the needles were in. I get worried when she's too placid -- and it's heartening to see her express her opinion about things. Of course, we humans laughed and laughed, perhaps out of astonishment and also out of pleasure to see her so full of life.
We had a good discussion about pain. I asked if he thought she might be in pain. I don't think she is because she'd be really crabby. He also thinks she's pain-free right now and said that if she gets to that state, she'll be depressed, lethargic, and not want to eat. Good signs to watch out for. I reiterated that I don't want her to suffer. So far, I think the three of us are doing well at our respective jobs, and he's already demonstrated that he's willing to treat pain generously.
And the icky powder -- I continue to give it to her but in tiny quantities. Dr. Randy said that it's powerful stuff and to give her what I can.
Last night, she ate well, got lots of lap time with RP, and then slept with me all night. And we woke up to face another day together with much love and joy.
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