Chunky Health News

It’s been a hard couple of weeks. 

Last Tuesday, Chunky had his appointment with an Internist for an abdominal ultrasound. If you may recall, Chunky was experiencing chronic vomiting so his primary vet recommended the ultrasound to try to figure out what was going on.

The ultrasound showed two things: Chunky’s lymph nodes are enlarged and the lining of his small intestines is thicker than it should be. The Internist recommended a biopsy, which of course I authorized because I needed to know what was wrong with my cat.

For two days I was on pins and needles, waiting for the results to come in. When the Internist finally did call me, it was with the worst news possible: there was evidence of cancer.

It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I cried so many times since then that I don’t know if I have any tears left. The idea of Chunky having cancer seemed ludicrous. How can my furbaby have such a nasty disease? 

I made an appointment with an oncologist while the Internist does further testing to confirm what kind of cancer it is. The appointment isn’t until the second week of September, so there’s not much I can do except twiddle my thumbs, which sucks. I mean, this entire situation sucks, but having to wait for answers makes the situation harder to deal with.

I remember when Cas was diagnosed with heart disease, it was a little easier to process. I didn’t have to wait days for results, nor was I bouncing around between doctors. I was given his diagnosis, the recommended treatment, his medication, and his life expectancy all within the same hour. I don’t have that with Chunky. I don’t know how advanced the cancer is or what treatment plans are available, if any. I don’t know what his life expectancy is now. I don’t know if treatment will make things better or worse for him. I’m unable to make a decision. I’m unable to adjust. I’m just lost.

Like I said, this sucks. 

Below is a picture that I took a few years ago of Chunky and Cas. Cas always appreciated the camera but it's rare to get one of Chunky looking in my direction when I'm taking a picture of him. Usually he turns his head, as if he's saying "no pictures, no pictures." That's why this is one of my favorite pictures, because I have both of them looking at me. Both were healthy without a care in the world.

I'd give anything to go back to this moment. Anything.