Saving Nebula from cancer

Hey! You all might know me from very different places. I'm Dee. I'm Danielle Dufault. I'm a paleoartist, scientific illustrator, and host of Animalogic. Animals of this planet past and present are my passion. One way or another, there's a very good chance you know my personal assistant. My best paw forward. My fuzzy familiar. My co-host with the most. That's Nebula, of course! The Bengal kitty who I adopted when she wasn't quite 2 years old in 2018. Little did I know, she would teach me how to be fluent in feline through the pandemic as my only and very cherished company through some of the hardest times. She is a part of me, and I am a part of her. Her comfort is my comfort. My home is her castle. She makes me smile when I didn't think I could, and that's just the beginning.

For about a year now, I've been taking her to her lifelong vet to check out her right leg. It's caused her some pain that has always improved after a couple of days. We've checked all her joints and tested her mobility several times, and things seemed okay! The conclusion was arthritis that might be progressing. So I've started on some supplements proven to help.

But things got worse, much worse. Her bouts of pain lasted longer, and her very active lifestyle began slowing down a bit. Little things, like carefully climbing down the bed instead of taking a 2-meter superman jumps off it first thing in the morning. Running on her cat wheel a little less (highly recommended, these things are great fun and exercise for all). Then after a great Sunday of joy and play, it was bedtime. I shut off the lights, she bumped into her tube toy. She jumped in fear, and came crashing down. Then she started crying in pain, crumpled herself in the corner, and was clearly just in agony.

I hoped she's recover as with her previous flare-ups, but she did not. I set her up a cozy and safe place to rest for the night, but the next day she was just as bad. Scared to move, scared of everything. Worse yet, she couldn't seem to put weight on her front leg that had previously been assumed to be arthritic.

I booked her the soonest vet appointment I could. I took her the next day and they suggested an x-ray of her front right leg, which I gladly did. The results came quick, hard, and devastating. The end of her radius, near her wrist, was absolutely blown up and destroyed in two big bulbs of spongy-looking growth. It appeared to be osteosarcoma. Bone cancer. I know and have seen bone cancer. Crazy story, I'm an author on a paper diagnosing the first case of osteosarcoma in a dinosaur (Centrosaurus apertus), because I did the analysis of it's CT-scanned bone tissue. It looked terribly the same... I wanted some secondary opinions though because I'm no doctor. But immediate recognition haunts me.

(Of course, nothing is certain until you test the tissue, and that part is coming...)

I consulted with Nebula's primary vet and referred to a radiologist. Still, no opportunity to get her seem immediately. I also reached out to a friend who had a recent experience with a new vet and was singing their praises. So I called them, 10 minutes before closing, out of desperation to just understand Nebula's situation, how to move forward, and how to treat her if there's a way forward, And where, soon! They spent as much time as I needed, talking about Nebula's history and what ways we could handle this. Step one, the most important, was to see if there's any visible signs of her bone cancer spreading. There's a few ways we could explore that, but all the vets I spoke to implored that she couldn't stay as-is with a cancerous, fractured front leg, and I agreed. They booked me an appointment for the next day, which takes me to Thursday. Their degree of compassion made them an easy choice.

As I write this, it is still Thursday. I woke up and she was still in her fort, and she was on some heavy pain meds for sedation. She tried to greet me as normally as possible considering she didn't start the day on my legs... she got up for the first time since Sunday, meowed, purred, gave me many headbutts, and in a feat of strength, walked over to her scratch post for a biiiiig vertical streeeeech, all while only touching ANYTHING with her good paw. To top it all off? She proceeded to sharpen her claws on her one good paw, while touching nothing with her broken, cancerous leg. Heck yeah. That's will to live. That's the sign I needed that she's still got spark worth saving. That's my girl, Nebula.

I took her in for her new appointment and I knew she was in the best hands. They did a general assessment and found that her bloodwork was good and normal, and her heart was strong. Then they performed full-body radiography, or X-rays. I can't explain how grateful I fell to be shown that there's absolutely NO sign of metastasis, or spreading of the cancer to any other part of her body. THIS. IS. HUGE. This was our sign that there's a life beyond this, beyond suffering and endless treatments. Our sign that there's another life waiting for Nebs. Because if it had already spread, let's not talk about that right now.

We all must meet an end, but today is not that day. The vet, and Nebula's regular vet, all spoke highly of life beyond limb amputation. The fact that Nebula is such a vibrant, active, fit, and tiny cat (she's a fancy bengal rescue, but tiny at just 6 pounds of mostly muscle and big meows!) meant that she is likely to bounce back from a limb amputation and live on happily as a tripod. She's expected to be even happier than she's been with her very painful limb. She is so tough! I can't believe she has hid an a growing bone tumor for over a year, and we all assumed arthritis. I've been informed that Bone cancer is the most painful cancer known. She's 6 pounds of inspiration, and I want to do right by her. She's going to be better than ever.

It's Saturday morning. She is home right now, purring in my lap after a successful surgery. She's purring so loud! We are doing our best to keep her safe and sound and give her all the love and attention she has been needing after a couple of incredibly stressful and painful days. There will be a few weeks of stressful caretaker work ahead, making sure she gets her meds and limiting her mobility, but she's already hobbling around like a champ after some awkward first steps without a front limb. Day one and already eating some food, drinking water, and using her litter!

Looking forward, this might not end at amputation. Her amputated limb will be assessed with cytology and histology to determine the kind of cancer, and I may be referred to a oncologist for chemotherapy. I hope it wont be necessary, but chances are, for the best prognosis, some may be necessary. I wanted to give her the best chance possible in a very dire situation. Hearing her purr on my lap as I write makes it already feel worth it, but I want to make sure she's given the best odds going forward...

Guys, I hate to do this but this is the worst possible time I could be dealing with life-or-death choices. I don't want money to be a factor. I wish it didn't have to be. But holy crap, the world is in a weird and bad place, and we are all dealing with the fallout one way or another.

For me, my financial stability in under dire threat. Cost of living has been a growing issue for a number of years here in Toronto, and I've been fighting that struggle alongside many folks. There's a lot of economic uncertainty in the fields that I work in, and I am feeling that pressure directly. My own financial stability is very uncertain right now. I'm working day and night across two jobs I love very much and pour my heart into, but it's still tough to get by and can't quite expect stability at the moment.

I want to give Nebula the best I can, because she gives me the best she's got every single say. I want to give her more lazy mornings in bed purring to full body massages. I want to give her new fun and game ideas that she can adapt to on 3 legs. I want to give her her favourite treats and snacks and maybe even get a few tricks in return (she knows lots!). I want to keep signing "If you're happy and you know it" with her meowing accompaniment.

She showed me today that she has the will to live. I want to give her the best chance possible. I'd be so grateful for anything you could help with. 5 bucks, whatever you can do. Even tips on personal or learned experience on caring of amputee cats and how to help them thrive, that would be so valuable to me! Share you knowledge or contribute what you can. I'd be so grateful... and I promise I'll share her certain journey in recovery with you. She's got love and songs to share. let's cheer Nebula on!

Thank you, friends, love you all very much!