My heart is breaking...

Tori and I made the trip to the vet today to have him checked further since he is still throwing up large quantities of slimey seeds. The doc checked him over and found an excess of bacteria. It's the good bacteria, but way too much of it. Not a balance of good and bad. They cleaned out his crop again. Lots of slimey goo.

We discussed what could be causing this. I asked about a tumor as a possibility, thinking he would just say no, not causing this. Instead, he said it might be a possibility, and that he does feel a small, movable something below Tori's crop. That possibly it could be obstructing the drainage of his crop. My stomach fell, my head got warm, my heart started breaking.

We discussed the fact that this same scenario took place last spring. We started with one anti-biotic, and within weeks had to try another. After that it was a good five months before Tori had another slimey episode. We traced it to a possible side-effect to a stressful molt. His immune system weaker, stressed, the bacteria took over. I am praying like crazy that's the case this time. And, knowing that, once we have this cleared up with the new meds, that he'll be healthy and happy for a long time. Maybe we can head it off next molt with special molting foods, vitamins, or something like that.

But the tumor thing stuck with me. I asked the doc to show me what he meant when I picked Tori up at the end of the day. I couldn't really feel it, but the doc felt it was there. Sometimes a benign, fatty tumor can show up and not cause any ill effects for a long time. But the position of this, if it is one, could be problematic. I went overboard and imagined losing my baby, my Tori. I feel lonesome already. My heart is breaking and I can't stop crying. The possibility of it all.

Maybe things will clear up, and nothing further will develop with that "thing". I pray so. My gut tells me otherwise, but it's been very wrong before. I hope to God it's wrong this time.

I know it's key to live in the moment. To appreciate today, live now, love now. I do try. I will try. But that doesn't mean I won't go through a box of Kleenex while doing it.

So, tonight we gave Tori his first dose of the new meds. I brought him home, and he spent the evening playing with the gang. He seemed to have energy, appetite, and was particularly attentive to the youngest, Mouse and Blogger. In fact, he seems to be mentoring them a bit.

Mouse flew down to the floor (he hasn't much flight yet), so Tori flew down to the floor to watch over him. Pumpkin joined them, too. Tori seemed to be trying to teach Mouse how to take off, fly upward. Mouse tried, he just doesn't have enough flight power yet. So, Tori hung around down on the floor with Mouse until I went over to help them both up. Mouse has been very shy about getting on my finger or my hand. Tori, as sweet and clever as ever, demonstrated for Mouse what to do. Lo and behold, Mouse followed Tori's lead! See what I mean. He's damn special, Tori is. One of a kind.

I know to some people Tori is "just a parakeet", a "silly little bird", but let me just say that couldn't be further from the truth. He's an amazing, living, breathing, sensitive, sweet, and loving creature and to lose him would wound me profoundly. So, I'll just pray and pray that won't happen. And, I'll tell him I love him every day.

A Diamond in the Rough

The waiting, as they say, is the hardest part. That's certainly been true in this case. It's been a long two weeks of waiting for the results of Nathan's biopsy to come in. Although the signs were pointing to a good prognosis, life can be so full of surprises, good and bad, that you can never be too certain. I admit it, I was obsessed day and night. I poured over websites about neuroblastoma, I read Wikipedia definitions multiple times. I read the blogs of others fighting the disease. I hoped, I prayed, and I enlisted friends near and far to include him in their prayers and wishes and dreams. And I cried. A lot.

Today was a long day. I knew that Nathan's results were due in. Unfortunately, I hadn't asked my sister what time they were to meet with the doctor. So, last night I tossed and turned. All day long (with apologies to my boss) I struggled to stay on task and not drift into bouts of fear and paranoia about the outcome. I heard nothing all day.

When I arrived home this evening, however, there was a message from my sister to call. Nothing else. I picked up the phone, then suddenly couldn't remember her cell number. I frantically looked for my address/phone book and couldn't find it. I thought, maybe, I could remember the cell, so I dialed it. It wasn't hers, but her husband's. He worked in a few pleasantries. But I wanted the news. Tell me.

As he filled me in on the Oh-So-Good news I burst into tears. The results: the tumor is definitely a neuroblastoma (and not something unexpected), Stage 1, Low-Risk. And the best news beyond that - NO CHEMO. Be still my heart. I have never been so grateful in my life.

I congratulated him. He told me more of the details, the doctors comments, the fact that they will be watching him carefully, doing scans every 3 months. They will continue with the infusions for the OMS that warned them that a tumor was possible. They will continue with the steroid injections for a time. The physical therapy, speech therapy, and so on. All of those things seem like status quo after this. The tumor is gone. He will live.

It is possible that it may recur. But based on the traits of the one they removed, anything additional will hopefully be treatable in the same way. And, with regular scans, they can catch it early, as they were able to do with this one.

As it turns out, they were nearby, having just come from the doctor. So I rushed out to meet up with them. To hug them. To see their happy faces. To see Nathan, and his big, handsome, brother Ben, play together, and laugh and giggle. To take a few pictures. How did I get to be so lucky, to be able to be with them on this momentous day? Yes, I am grateful.

It was a rough day. It's been a rough 12 months since this began. But the diamond is worth it. For he sparkles and he shines. But most of all, he warms our hearts.