Adios.

So, again I find myself saying goodbye to another cancer-consumed friend. This time it's my beloved Podge, the simple cat who knows everything about me and all I know and hide secret from the world. He is the handsomest, most intelligent and loving gent I shall ever meet. But, within the next few days, he must go for a long sleep, because he can no longer eat or breathe because the tumor in his throat is growing and growing. Sadly this is the closest we've ever been, as we both sit there, breathing heavily, losing weight, sleeping, not eating and failing to do the things we could when we were healthy... But, of course, still purring on regardlessly.

And again, like with Jamie's passing, I find it hard to tell you about my illness, because just like last time, my problems become nothing. Who cares if I've spent the last two days with my back at 45 degrees and my legs buckled when Podge is about to die?... They're curing me, and there's nothing for poor old Podge. He just wheezes and gapes and looks confused. What did little Podge do to deserve that?

But yes, if you're wondering why my body is now at such odd angles, blame too much walking and standing up and general fun on my birthday/at my celebratory Friday the 13th drinks. Everything hurts so very much. Sort of like having an erratic steamroller driving around your various parts. And I've lost more weight- 7st 12. Ack. I am almost looking forward to the endoscopy in the desperate hope that they'll find SOMETHING and SOMETHING can be done to make me a fatty.

But yes. My birthday can now be deemed a complete success. The leukaemia is still looking good, my stomach is still reigning terror, and my number one cat is as good as dead. Not sure how that averages. It averaged better earlier when I had spare ribs and YBF, but things are still pretty ok now with strawberry pencils and youtube.

Must go. Need to get into more deformed-spine friendly position.

Peace, love, and bacon butties.

xXx