Hey friends,
It's been awhile! I have a lot to share, so grab yourself a coffee, wine, whatever, and prepare to stay awhile.
I actually composed a blog a few weeks ago, but before I had time to hit "publish," everything in our world seemed to change drastically. So, I sat on it for a while.
The Lindsay house has had a rough month.
We lost our best bud, the Most Interesting Cat in the World, Biloxi.
Evan went to the States for a couple of weeks, so it was just me and Bilox. Everything was status quo, except for this strange thing Biloxi began doing when Evan left. Every evening, when I laid on the couch to watch TV, Biloxi would sit beside me, place his paw on my chest, and gaze into my eyes. This daily occurrence would last about 2-3 minutes. It was kind of unnerving, and given that I've read how animals can sense illness, naturally in typical "Kirstie fashion," I began to worry that perhaps he was trying communicate a health issue - like an irregular heart rhythm or maybe even breast cancer. It just seemed really strange that this 21-year old cat initiated a new ritual when Evan left.
The day after Ev returned, Biloxi suddenly lost control of his back leg. We took him to the vet, who wasn't sure what was going on, but prescribed potassium for overall weakness. Less than 24-hours later, Biloxi was unable to move his hind end, it appeared as though he threw a blot clot, and we made the heartbreaking decision to euthanize him.
The last 24-hours with Biloxi was bittersweet. Because he was unable to hold himself up, Evan and I took turns holding him in our arms. His little orange head was soaked with our tears, as we looked through photo albums and talked to him about all of our favorite memories together.
We talked about how he pooped on Evan's hand in the pet store - that's how he knew he was choosing us!
We talked about all the hockey road trips he endured. We laughed about the time that Evan and Biloxi drove all the way to Tulsa, Oklahoma (Biloxi in Evan's lap, with his paws on the steering wheel), only to turn around after the first (bad bad) hockey game and drive all the way back to Canada.
We talked about that tumultuous period in our relationship when we considered breaking up, and how Biloxi always seemed to have a way of bringing us back together.
We talked about the day Evan proposed - how Biloxi jumped on his lap mid-proposal, desperately wanting to be a part of the action.
We talked about our wedding day. Biloxi greeted us at the door and rubbed his face on my veil.
We talked about all the moves, flights, trains, pet passports and journeys that Biloxi endured like a trooper.
We talked about the time Biloxi chased a fox out of our yard - he was fearless.
We talked about all the surgeries that Biloxi nursed me through, licking the tears off my face, and placing his paw on my arm for comfort. I've always felt like Biloxi is my Guardian Angel. I still do.
We talked about all the successes and losses that Biloxi had experienced with us through 21 years of our lives.
We talked about how Biloxi reacted when Dundee died - he seemed to be relieved to be the only animal in our house again. His last 2 years were probably his happiest.
Biloxi really was an important part of our family, and as we held him in our arms and watched him drift peacefully to sleep for the last time, we both felt absolutely devastated.
Maybe that sounds dramatic to you - I can't think of any other word to describe how I felt.
Evan, Biloxi, Dundee, and I were a family. When we lost Dundee, our family felt fractured. When we lost Biloxi, our family felt decimated.
So...it's a huge loss for us. We are so so saddened to have lost such an important part of our lives.
In retrospect, I think that Biloxi knew. I think that he was preparing me for this, perhaps placing his paw on my chest to comfort me - to communicate that he'll always be in my heart. I'd like to think this is why.
We didn't have much time to grieve, as we were suddenly faced with Hurricane Ian.
Let me tell you, waiting for a hurricane is one of the most confusing and stressful experiences that I have endured. You have days to prepare; however, the spaghetti models, indicating the path of the storm, changes every 2-3 hours. One hour, you're preparing for a direct hit from category 2 hurricane, and the next you're celebrating a near miss. It's just so difficult to prepare for something that changes so quickly. The vibe on the island is pure chaos. Everyone loses their damn minds, running into each other in parking lots and hoarding batteries and toilet paper. Just the atmosphere of pure mayhem is enough to give you a heart attack.
We shuttered up our windows, and awaited the storm. In the end, it wasn't too bad on our end of the island. Although places in the south experienced flooding due to storm surge, our little island lucked out as Hurricane Ian side-swept us, cruising 60 miles west of Grand. Florida, on the other hand, took a vicious beating. It really hurts my heart to see my island bestie's hometown, Sanibel, completely destroyed. Those poor people have lost everything!
And, finally...
My last piece of news is that I'm getting both of my knees replaced.
I will have my left knee replaced on Tuesday, and my right knee 8 weeks later. The surgeries will be taking place in Cayman.
When I met with the Orthopedic surgeon, he initially attempted to dissuade me from total knee replacements, citing I was too young, I wouldn't be happy with them, and that there were too many risk factors. I agreed but then implored, "What am I supposed to do?"
I explained that I have had 13 knee surgeries in 10 years - due to the progression of this disease, no doctor will touch me anymore. I explained that I'm reliant on Opioids for pain relief. I explained that I can't even work a full day anymore. I explained that I just want to walk on the beach again. I explained that I am in constant pain.
He listened, nodded, and asked, "Do you want them both done at once or one at a time?
Whoa, buddy, slow down here!
So I've decided to do the worst knee first, and the right knee 8 weeks later.
To be 100% honest, I don't feel great about this.
I've spent the last 3 weeks trying to change my mindset, listing the positives, attempting to shift my mood and build enthusiasm. But I just feel kinda sad, scared, and disappointed. I feel like I've failed. This has always been the end of the road, and I've hit it. I'm typically pretty confident going into surgery, and I've been worrying that this feeling I have is a gut reaction - that perhaps I should cancel this surgery.
I spoke to my wise bud, Colleen, an Occupational Therapist in Canada, with whom I worked at the hospital in PA. She was with me the day that I was diagnosed, and has seen me struggle for 10 years. She always provides sound, rational advice.
She said, "It's totally natural that you feel this way. You've spent the last 10 years of your life fighting to avoid this surgery. And now it's here. You don't have to go into surgery like a rockstar, confident and energized - it's okay to just feel how you feel."
Thank you, Colleen. You put words to my feelings.
I also enlisted the expertise of my good bud, Lisa, a Physiotherapist, who also worked with me in PA. Lisa was one of my biggest supporters when I was diagnosed and struggling 10 years ago. She got me through many difficult work days. She works with total knee replacements on a daily. She reiterated that this isn't a failure. Because I worked so hard, I was able to give my knees an extra 10 years. Lisa explained that I've done all that I could and it's time. In fact, she encouraged me to channel Lizzo - "It's about damn time."
Both friends painted a picture of pain-free days and mobility - walks on the beach, trips and tours - I can't even imagine being able to move freely without pain. It all sounds pretty good.
So...it's time. I will be saying bon voyage to the first knee on Tuesday. It tried. It really did. But it's tired.
I am so thankful for everyone who is supporting us right now. Although my heart has felt so empty with the loss of Biloxi, it's filling fast with cards, messages, plants, flowers, treats, "friend"cations, and words of encouragement from people who love and care about us. I don't have the energy right now to do these surgeries alone, but it's been apparent to me in the last week that I won't be alone. I'm going to lean into the help. I'm going to just feel how I feel and be okay with it.
Mom comes tomorrow for back-up...or maybe "front-up" - I hope she realizes we're not staycationing at a 4-star resort this time! 😑 ha!
Thanks to everyone who has reached out. When I'm feeling sad/scared/upset, I often re-read messages of support. It helps. It really helps. Thank you. You make me feel loved and supported.
Take it nice and knee-sy and feel free to reach out any-knee-time (Sorry, I couldn't resist).
