Thank you so much for the sound advice on how to approach the subject of Kevin's cancer, and I am so sorry for the suffering that informed that advice for so many of you.
We had a wonderful time with Holly and Kevin and I hope they did as well. I thought of what each of you had written at various times during the evening and plunged ahead when my innate shyness would have otherwise prevented me from speaking. During dinner I asked how Kevin was feeling and he said, "Good. Well, ok. Actually, the big tumor here hurts a lot." I said I was sorry and then asked about his pain medication. Which led to a discussion about his oncologist, how NIH is structured, the roommates he has had there and, ultimately, what we all felt to be the shortcomings of the current health system in the US. Then Steve and Kevin went off to play xbox and Holly and I drank wine and gossiped about family and talked about his treatment some more and their plans to start trying to conceive. It was a good night and Steve and I felt very honored by their presence. I know that either sounds bone-breakingly old-fashioned or inappropriately Asian but it is true. They are just so cool that we feel like they are doing us a favor by spending time with us. Fortunately I am not enough of a loser to articulate this fact to them, but just between us, well, we're lucky they are family.
Our foster cats are settling in quite well, mostly. For now they are still confined to the long bedroom which actually isn't a bad place to be. It is, for example, bigger than the studio apartment I lived in sophomore year of college. It has a couch and a futon and a scratching post and a litter closet. It has four large windows with ample sill space. It has the big TV, so we are up there watching movies or playing xbox for most of the evening and I come up to play with Patrick throughout the day. Patrick ignores them and they ignore Patrick, which is ideal. There are two full-length glass doors that let in lots of light and allow them to growl and hiss at our cats without actually drawing blood. Really, it is a pretty cushy set up. You can probably tell by my justifications that I feel quite guilty about confining them. But we did let Dignon, the strapping grey and white alpha male, explore the house on the first night and he tried to kick everyone's ass. He has a lot of self-confidence, shall we say. Anyway, we realized that a more gradual introduction was in order and have been letting them growl at each other through the door. That seems to be tapering off and we hope to start giving them greater access to the house soon.
New cats aside, we had a major cat disaster last night. Steve realized that our freaky little girl cat, Jam, failed to come out of the closet for her nightly treat. Since the day we rescued her as a stray and very little kitten she has been a complete headcase. Nervous and withdrawn, she is terrified of both people and other cats. In her own kingdom of the master bedroom, closet and bathroom she is very affectionate but she has to initiate contact and she can NEVER be picked up. We have the scars to prove it. So she is a weird little thing but she is ours and we love her. The idea of losing her was awful.
Steve looked everywhere, couldn't find her and came to tell me about it. We went back to the bedroom and discovered that she had fallen out our bedroom window, screen and all. I guess the window cleaner had not put the screen back in properly and she must have pushed on it... anyway she was gone. For five frantic minutes we were convinced that she was lost forever, as we would never find her in the woods although the coyotes might. Then we started checking under the deck and porches and voila! she was huddled way in the back underneath the screened porch. This was comforting, but also frustrating as we cannot reach her and she is too scared to come out. Steve opened up an access panel in the porch floor so she can crawl up when she wants to. I put wet food out for her around ten. Then I couldn't sleep so I tried going out with some catnip to entice her. Finally I opened a can of tuna at one am. Nothing. This morning Steve sealed off the exits under the porch so that her only way out is up. It will also, we hope, protect her from any larger animals until she comes out. Any advice on how to get her back inside would be gratefully appreciated.
This is all really tedious, I know, but I am on a boring roll so I might as well continue.
I am now on a surprising day 33. No period and no indication that one might be in the offing. I guess I really did ovulate last week which will bring us to an unprecedented 40+ day cycle. Oy vey. Just what I needed. It's not enough that Steve is packed full of deadly sperm, I am now developing anti-baby tendencies as well. Fucking marvelous.
In the meantime, though, since I am not entirely certain about anything I will be implementing a daily pregnancy test. Just my small way of keeping America's hormone testing companies afloat.
Ugh. I just fell asleep writing this. You know, I am hesitating even posting so many flaccid words in a row, but what the hell. You'll forgive me. Besides someone might want to google "tuna futon fucking hormone" and I aim to please.