The House of Four Cats

My friend, Kay, has four cats.

At most she had wanted two. But she has four because she has a kind heart, and frankly I suspect she is part cat.

Kay has breast cancer.

She didn't want any of that, but she has it anyway because cancer sucks.

She had a clean mammogram spring of 2022. In October she called to tell me she'd found a lump the size of a baseball. Suddenly. Like overnight. 

That sucker was fast, and it was malignant.

Chemotherapy first. Eight rounds of it, one every other week. Lumpectomy later.

I told her early on that I work remotely. If she needed an extra hand or moral support, I could pack up my office, drive over, and hang out as long as she needed. It was a solid, sincere offer, and I meant it, but I did not expect her to take me up on it.

Well, she did.

I arrived at The House of Four Cats last week to settle in and get the lay of the land, and I'll be here through the rest of this week when I'll really be needed. Chemo Round #8, the final Big Boss Level, was yesterday. 

Kay said to me, "Well, I'm glad I finally got enough cats to get you to come visit."

We go back a long time.

Kay, The Husband, and I all worked at the same radio station 35 years ago when we were all single.

Kay came to our wedding. We went to both of hers. She lives alone now with her 18-year-old daughter and previously mentioned cats.

It has been a good visit so far. I've been able to work remotely from Kay's diningroom table. At least one cat has slept with me or ON me every night.

Kay sleeps a lot, her daughter is self-sufficient, and their church community brings food every other day, so I haven't needed to provide a lot of care. Mostly I tidy up and do the dishes. To Kay this is a large burden off her mind, and to a teenaged girl it is, frankly, expected. 🤷‍♀️

Kay has been able to rest and recover all last week and prepare for this last blast of chemo.

When Kay starts to feel better, which she expects will be this weekend, I'll go home. Kay and I joke that at least one cat will end up in my luggage.

In three weeks Kay will get a double mastectomy and start radiation treatments and hormone therapy.

And life will go on.

She's achy and tired today but in good spirits. Last night her daughter spotted peach fuzz hair growing on Kay's scalp. It was like seeing the first hint of a new day's sunrise.

She is already beginning to heal.