For a few weeks I have had the news of my kitty, Roxyann, weighing on my mind. She went to the vet, then to the surgeon and then I had a consultation with an oncologist.
None of the answers they gave were ones I longed to hear.
No treatment out there is going to save my Miss Priss.
No information made the decision FOR me.
Rox has the option of doing radiation & chemo with few side effects - far fewer than us humans have with that type of treatment. But it's not a cure... and eventually the cancer will come back. No one knew how long she would be cancer free and barring a miracle, their 'long-term' was only 18-24 months.
Cop'er let me make the decision about what to do. He asked all the same questions I did - how would she tolerate the treatment? Would she go blind in both eyes? How much will is cost? Will she have to stay there?
I got all the answers to our questions. I talked it over with Cop'er. I made a decision. Roxyann would have the treatment. She has an appointment for Wednesday.
Today I started to wonder if I was really doing the right thing. How do I even know what the 'right thing' is? I love that little kitty - the other half of the pair I adopted 9 years ago. She's been my baby, my friend, my comedian, my confidant, my sidekick, my pest, my joy, my companion... my sweet little girl.
All I can strive to do is what's best for her. And right now, I don't know what that is.