Still trying to figure out all this new-fangled blogging stuff. Yeah, yeah, blogging is soooo, like, four years ago, and what with Cat Daddy calling me his Geek Goddess? Puh-leeeze.
I’m so ashamed. OK, not really, but pretend penitence is all you get from me today.
Ah well, blame it on Newt. It’s all his fault, really. I never really was into the whole blogging thing. I enjoyed browsing other folk’s blogs, but never wanted to write one. Too shy, too quiet, too lazy, too private, too paranoid.
And then came Newt.
As he defied the odds, and slowly began to blossom, we thought well, if his story can help other shunt parents to have Hope, then what’s a bit of time on the computer, anyway? So I began cobbling together bits and pieces of his story, back-filling info as I had time, adding new details as the mood struck me. I refuse to feel bad for the gaps and the holes and such. I promise, I’ll make it a proper site one of these days. In the meantime, it has already become so much more than we ever anticipated.
Problem is, I never really did much with the promoting, the tagging, the categories, etc. Pretty much meta everything with cat liver shunt, and there you go. (By the way, did you know that googling “cat liver shunt” yields Newt’s web presence in the top five entries, with his survivors page as the #1 entry? Amazing!)
Then it struck me today, that I have several entries under the “bad day” category, and yet, I don’t even HAVE a category for the good days. Oops.
Well, we do now, since Newt is on his second “good day” in a row. 
It’s so easy to get caught up in the “good” days, just blundering along when everything is peachy keen, no reason to rush to the computer and see if anyone is in chat with a handy shoulder for crying; no questions you need answered right NOW. You just … live – and revel in the good days. And when the goods days blur into an ever-growing series of good weeks, then good months, you tend to get complacent. Even though you know in your heart that the disease isn’t cured, you can sort of pretend that everything is normal, and keep the annoying little voices at bay.
It’s only when things aren’t quite so good that you start reaching out again, for the comfort of pixelated strangers. For those who know the gasps of the wheezing wheezelets; the wiping of the never-ending puddles of drool; the frantic offerings of delicacies to get them to eat something – anything; the Damoclean choice of surgery vs. medical maintenance, and the never ending chorus of “are we doing the right thing? Are we doing enough?“
So to each of you who have been so kind and concerned during Newt’s recent roller coaster, Cat Daddy and I extend our heartfelt thank yous. I’ve had a bit of the guilties, and haven’t been posting Newt’s details in the support groups as much, because I feel rather guilty at everyone being so concerned for him. Plus, I know how up and down and up and down and UP and DOWN we’ve been feeling; didn’t want to add that burden to other folks who truly ARE in crisis with their liver shunt cats.
He’s really doing okay. Far better than when he was a baby. He’s not been in crisis, he’s not been critical; he’s just not been having the Indian Summer of good days to which we have grown so accustomed.
In fact, today he is being quite the little scamp. Has eaten well the last two days, no drool, hair coat looks good, a wee bit manic (or is it his normal kittenish behavior?), playing with his toys and wrestling with his best friend the Dog.
Life is good.