I can’t begin to describe how excited I am. Next week we’ll have added little Ivy to our home (renamed Laurel for reasons far to complex to explain but suffice to say the musical theme continues and there’s a link with Françoise Hardy, the Dennis equivalent of Bryan Ferry). She’s about 14 weeks old and apparently very affectionate, gets on with all the other cats but can be vocal. When we left, there was this squeak from upstairs and Amy the fosterer told us that was Ivy! Interrupted nights ahead as we plan to use the small front bedroom as a kitten home till she gets used to us and Del gets used to her presence.
This shows persistence can work - plus some home truths, encouraged by the words my therapist used when talking about Dennis’s refusal to let me have a cat. Yes, I wanted to rehome an older abandoned cat but, having yielded, D insisted he wanted a kitten. And you should have seen him in the room, surrounded by 6 kittens (3 stayed lodged beside the wardrobe, bless them). The expression on his face said it all - entranced. My initial choice would have been Natasha, a bundle of white fur with grey tabby markings on her head and tail. Sadly, each time I looked at her I felt real sadness because she looked too like Del’s sister Bonnie. So Ivy it was and I hope she’s the right choice for us. Here she is:
I have mixed feelings about this. Is it selfish to rehome an abandoned kitten when I know I shan’t be here to enjoy her for long? I mean for years. Is it selfish to hope for a cat that prefers indoors and likes to cuddle up on the bed with ME, not D? Well, it’s too late now - I’ve ordered the litter tray, carrier, cat tree, dinky food and water dishes - and the most hideous cat bed that just made me smile (rainbow coloured). In the spirit of optimism, because I know you can never get a cat to do what it doesn’t choose to do), I got more tasteful and bought a grey cat bed for the bedroom. Little Laurel is going to keep me company whether she likes it or not! Well, that’s the plan.
On the downside, first we have lost yet another member of our support group. Grace was one of the women I talked to a lot. She was only 43 and the last time I saw her she was talking enthusiastically about this new drug Enhertu, saying it was the best treatment she had had, feeling completely normal (her word) with no side effects. She had access through her work’s medical insurance - NICE still hasn’t sanctioned its use. It was a drug I was keen to try - but it only gave her a couple of months :( That’s FOUR members this year.
In terms of me, things are definitely moving now. K, my new breast care nurse, rang for a chat and told me my most recent tumour marker. Having been going up by 2 or three and staying in the 40s, it’s jumped to 67. That’s not a good pattern, though I must always remember tumour markers are not a solid indicator of what’s going on as they are affected by other factors such as inflammation. But the lumps on my neck are spreading, I can feel the change and last night I tried to get a photo. The bits I got were quite a shock to me. My eyelid seems more closed and, close up, I’m seeing double as it’s putting pressure on my eye. I’ve noticed I’ve started reading with that eye closed to get some clarity. Fortunately it hasn’t affected my distance vision so I feel I can still drive safely. I just can’t decide if it’s time to worry or not. I don’t want to change treatments - capecitabine has served me well, but it’s obviously losing the battle now.
On the way back from the hospital last Friday, I drove past my turn-off and immediately my stomach lurched. It seems I can drive in a 6-lane one-way system, face an oncologist and talk about cancer - but I can’t talk to a dental receptionist without reverting to type -lifelong anxiety. I was only going to see if I could change to Dennis’s dentist. Yes I could. Cancellation this afternoon. Erm… do I need time to think? No, DO IT. So I had a long session with this new dentist.
He was ultra-considerate and, when I asked, judged that the broken tooth would survive till I saw him again in July. Of course, a quarter broke off the next day. Sod’s Law. So Tuesday I was back in the chair and having what I wanted all along - that tooth and a small filling packed. Temporary fillings that will last years. But I didn’t get off easily. I had to have a whole head X-ray and he talked me through every bloody aspect of it. I was there for an HOUR! That man can talk for England. But he knows his stuff - and the first appointment I could get with my own dentist was late July!! So now I have a new dentist, have paid about £230 so far and have an estimate of £1300 for future treatment (including £600 well spent on sedation),
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