Thursday 5 June 2014

The Only Living Boy in New York

I first heard the term 'AIDS' on the playground when I was in the fourth or five grade. The year was 1986 or 1987. It was a childish insult to call someone gay, so proclaiming that someone had AIDS just upped the ante of the remark. I vaguely remember my mother confirming that AIDS was an illness that seemed to strike gay men and that it was very inappropriate to joke about it. HIV was not mentioned at all during our sex education classes in 1990, but in the following year, after Magic Johnson's announcement affirmed that it affects the heterosexual population, my school held a special assembly. By the time I went off to University in 1994 (yikes, twenty years ago) it was well acknowledged that HIV was an equal opportunity killer, as it represented the leading cause of death among individuals aged 25-44. In 1996, I went to Washington DC to see the AIDS Memorial Quilt on display. Tears flowed as I discovered the names and stories of those who lost their lives to this disease. I participated in a candlelight march and walked past protesters who felt that AIDS was a suitable punishment for the crime of homosexuality.

Six years later my medical training brought me to a prison. My inner conservative Republican initially wondered why tax dollars were funding the expensive HIV antivirals for an inmate serving a double life sentence. A few days later I sustained a very superficial needle stick after drawing his blood. Fortunately, his viral count was undetectable, thanks to his meds. Rather than take the standard post exposure regime, the Infectious Disease specialist decided to prescribe the exact cocktail of drugs. They were horrible. Even with some accompanying anti-emetics, I had to alternate taking them every other day. I was never worried that I would actually contract the virus. The mechanism of my injury did not constitute a significant exposure. I felt it was harder on the people around me. I went through multiple meetings with the ID team to make sure I was cleared to treat patients and my then boyfriend, now husband preferred to practice abstinence until my 6 month blood test was negative. To this day, I never disclosed the details about that event to my parents.

In 2007, I gave an HIV positive diagnosis to a newly pregnant 22 year old woman. I was able to explain to her that HIV is no longer the death sentence that it was in the year she was born. With antiviral medications, HIV can be managed as a chronic condition, and most importantly we could prevent transmission to her baby. The following year I moved to California and participated in many rallies denouncing Prop (H)8. I have since celebrated the same sex marriages of four friends and feel proud that they are entitled to the same rights and recognition that Husband and I share.

I recently watched the HBO film The Normal Heart. This brilliant production detailed the disease in the days before the red AIDS ribbon and World AIDS day were declared. I knew that many stories existed, but I hadn't ever seen or heard a first hand account. Young, healthy, vibrant men were suddenly becoming sick and very quickly dying. They were dropping like flies. An epidemic was emerging. Yet no one seemed to care. The writers and actors did a masterful job portraying the struggles of the gay community to gain attention and information regarding the mysterious killer virus. It is amazing to appreciate how much has been achieved in terms of activism, awareness, fund raising and research, but the delayed response is another shameful mark in this country's history.

The true heart of the film is a beautiful love story (as well as a very hot sex scene) as the central character watches his partner succumb to the disease. It was the friends and lovers who became the primary caretakers as paramedics often refused to transport and these patients were turned away from emergency rooms. The ultimate measure of unconditional love. Simon and Garfunkel's song "The Only Living Boy in New York" is used to profound effect for the movie's final scene brings the lead back to his alma matter for Yale University's Gay Week, where as a student he feared he was the only gay man on campus and contemplated suicide. As he was appreciating the progress witnessed in his time, I felt proud to acknowledge that his merely symbolic wedding ceremony on his partner's death bed, could legally take place in the state of New York today.

Earlier in the month of May, I noticed that my cat A looked a little thinner. I checked his glucose and it was within normal range. I wasn't too concerned. I've observed over our years together that his weight seems to fluctuate. He was otherwise acting normally. I was a few weeks overdue for his yearly check up at the vet, so I scheduled him on their first available Saturday morning time slot. Then I picked him up and realised he was significantly lighter. I called back and requested a sooner appointment.

"It's probably just hyperthyroidism" I shared with the vet as I explained that he was eating well and exhibiting his usual behaviour. When his lab work came back normal, she scheduled him for an ultrasound. Despite the fact that he was eating, his weight seemed to drop a bit more. The day of his appointment, my alarm went off at 5:20 to wake me up for swimming. As I reached over to shut it off, I felt him beside me. So many times, a warm snuggly kitty was a tempting excuse to stay in bed and skip the pool, and on this occasion,  I obliged. I couldn't fall back asleep, so I just laid in bed and listened to him purring beside me.

I'm going to learn that my cat has cancer. I acknowledged that fact to myself multiple times throughout the day. All the clinical signs were there. How long were they there and how long was I blind to them? I asked Husband to accompany me to his scan. The vet called us back for a consultation. Her body language revealed everything. The news was bad. A mass was found behind his heart. It won't respond to chemotherapy or radiation. Even a successful surgical resection would only give him 6 to 12 months. As he lost another half of a pound and had developed some pleural effusions, she estimates that he only has 2-3 weeks left. Clinically, I knew that was accurate, but it was still a shock to hear.

As I walked in through our front door, I recalled that he was still greeting me as recently as two nights ago. As I looked longingly down the front hall, it stuck me that he will no longer be greeting me. No longer sleeping by my side at night. No more fluffy ginger shadow following me around.  Although he was primarily my cat, Husband is just as devastated. After he let me cry on his shoulder at the vet's office, when I came home from that appointment, I found him sobbing. "I just told K [our other cat]" he cried. A gesture so sweet and touching that it makes me fall in love with him a little more. He was a part of our life together and we're going to miss him so much. If it's so hard to let go of a cat so abruptly, I can't imagine the pain of losing your partner.

It marks another shitty infertility milestone. I'm losing my kitty baby before having a human one. Perhaps he just wasn't meant to share me. I often felt that I didn't want to become one of those women who ignores her cats once she has a baby. I've visited some friends just after their new arrival and their cats would flock to me, seemingly starved for attention. Although Husband speculated that he would be very protective of our baby, I also feared he could be a tired older kitty putting up with a toddler who is pulling on his tail or trying to dress him in doll clothes. Right now, we're trying to keep him comfortable and enjoy every good day he has left. When we're ready, we will get another cat. We know we're not replacing him, there are a lot of cats that need homes and we'll have a vacancy. Perhaps it will mark the start of a new chapter, as a mother to my kitties and biologic progeny.

22 comments:

  1. I'm so sorry. I lost my beloved cat of 9 years to lymphoma back in November after I noticed he had lost some weight and was drinking more water - he had the ultrasound which confirmed cancer too. It was crushing for me and my husband, and we still miss him so much. He was my dearest, sweetest companion through my infertility journey and my miscarriages. Cherish the time you have left with him and take lots of pictures. I'm thinking of you.

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  2. I'm so sorry Jane. My childhood dog died the day before my niece was born. We always joke that she is his reincarnate. I hope your beloved pal passes comfortably.

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  3. I'm so sorry and I know exactly how you feel. Almost two years ago my beloved dog (I really fucking loved this dog) got cancer. We tried everything to save/extend his life, including amputating his whole front leg and scapula. Sadly the cancer came back. After three surgeries we had to put him to sleep because it was obvious it had spread and he quickly lost mobility of his back legs, became incontinent and was in pain. It was HORRIBLE. I've never been so sad in my life. I would wake up in the middle of the night sobbing. I literally had to ice my eyes because they were so swollen from crying. We had been TTC for over a year at that point and I just couldn't believe that not only could I not have a baby but the baby I did have (my dog) that I loved more than anything was getting taken away from me. Its not fair. I miss him everyday. Its so shitty. I'm sorry you have to say goodbye to your kitty. <3

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  4. I am so very sorry to hear this. I adore my cat and I've told him repeatedly that he can't leave us, get sick, etc. because I just couldn't handle it with everything else going on. My heart goes out to you...

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  5. I'm so sorry to hear this. Losing a beloved pet is so so hard. My childhood cat had to be put down after a similar situation (kidney failure and cancer causing him to drastically lose weight, and he was a fat cat). That was 8 years ago, but he was my first pet, and I still miss him. Wishing you strength in this time you have left with him.

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  6. Awwww i am SO sorry to hear this about your sweet cat... i think any illness of a loved one (human or non human) is hard so i am praying for your family. Just try and think of all the joy you brought each other and what a good life you have given him. Hugs!

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  7. Oh Jane, I'm so sorry. I experienced something similar a few years ago. My 16 year old cat was losing weight and everyone said it was old age, but that she was healthy. The weight loss persisted so I took her to the vet to learn she had renal failure. As she was otherwise healthy, we decided to delay the inevitable with IV fluids that we administered at home. They said it might give her a year or more... rather she was gone within three months. Those were some of the hardest and longest three months of my life. Caring for and loving a dying soul is hard stuff... I still think I'm traumatized over that season of life. I'm so sorry that there is more loss and sadness in this season for you and your husband. Hoping that there are better days ahead!

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  8. So sorry to hear this Jane. I shed some extra tears for kitty A just reading your post. It's amazing how much pets become members of the family. They are comforting in so many ways. I hope you guys can enjoy the little bit of time left....extra treats and tuna for everyone!

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  9. Oh the loss of a pet is heartbreaking. I'm so sorry to hear about your sweet cat. I hope he is comfortable in his time left. I'm sure he knows how beloved he is to you and your husband!

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  10. I'm so sorry. I have four pets, and they are the loves of my life (OK, along with my husband and daughter). One of the cats and one dog are getting up there in age, and I hate thinking that they'll be gone someday. Our animals are such good friends to us, aren't they? And such a comfort through hard times.
    I'm sure you gave your little guy a great, happy life.

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  11. I'm so sorry to hear this, Jane.

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  12. This post just rips me apart. I lost my beloved cat almost 5 years ago that I had from age 16 to 32. And even with cats before her and after her, there will never be another like her. They are family and the loss of them is so hard. I'm sending you so much love as you grieve your sweet guy.

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  13. Losing a pet is one if the hardest things. I really think its even harder when those pets have been our "fur babies". I am so sorry for your loss :(

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  14. This makes me so sad and I'm so sorry. Our pets are healthy, but just thinking about losing them can make me breathless with grief.

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  15. I'm so sorry, Jane. The cat that is my face to everyone on the internet was my best friend for 7 years. When M and I got moved in together he was so allergic that I had to give him up to my parents. When they called about a year later and told me he was sick and they had to put him down, I cried like a baby. On top of it I felt horribly guilty because I imagined him feeling that I'd abandoned him for the last year of his life. Pets really are part of our families and it's horrible to lose one. Sending hugs.

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  16. Jane, I'm so sorry! I have yet to deal with this, but I can tell you that I think about it allllll the time with my dogs and dread the inevitable day. It's heartbreaking to lose a member of the family like that. My thoughts are with you.

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  17. It's so hard to lose a fur baby. I am sorry to hear about this. :(

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  18. Oh Jane, I'm so sorry. The part where your husband told your other cat made me cry. It's just not fair that the universe doesn't recognize you're already dealing with one shitty thing and really don't need another.

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  19. Oh.. I am so sorry about your fur baby. :(

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  20. I'm sorry Jane. It's so hard to lose a loved one, no matter if it's human or animal.

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  21. Oh Jane I'm so sorry. Having recently lost our older dog, I know just how hard it is to face losing a beloved pet. Pets are part of the family and it's devastating. Hugs.

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  22. Oh Jane, I am so so so so SO sorry to read this sad news :( I can't even imagine how you must feel. Please know I'm thinking of you! xo

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