Waiting for the Sunshine

We've been stuck in a cold, rainy weather pattern for several days now. The kind that hangs a curtain of humidity in the air so heavy that the clean towel you used yesterday and planned to use again today is still damp. The kind that makes you want to crawl back into bed and stay until the sun shines again. But for me, as for many of you, life demands my attention.

Much has happened in the weeks and months since I last wrote. I'm doing well, for the most part. Just dealing with the challenges that come with aging. At least, that's what everyone tells me. When you have an underlying condition and you've always been an active, able-bodied person, it's hard not to wonder if that condition is contributing to the aches and pains.

It doesn't really matter, I suppose. I prefer not to dwell on such things but try to overcome as much as I can to live an abundant life.

My little Eli is doing as much himself. I could definitely write a separate "Cat Musings" post about him and probably will. He has been on a regimen of weekly allergy shots that I administer. The shots contain a concoction of many of the dozens of pollen-producing plants and trees that he's allergic to. The plan is to steadily bombard his immune system with the very things that cause it to react and make him itch to the point of self-mutilation. In theory, his system should eventually accept the allergens as normal and shut off the adverse reaction to them. While Eli endures this process, I give him methylprednisolone, a steroid, to help keep him comfortable. As an extra measure, on his back paws, he sports green “Soft Claws,” plastic caps that fit over each of his nails; on the front, they are orange. (No special meaning other than fashion.) These help prevent the self-mutilation that he has done in the past with his incessant scratching that left patches of his skin bare of fur and covered with bloody wounds and ragged scabs. The wounds have all healed now, but the fur takes much longer to grow back. The scars make him look like he’s been used as bait in dog fights.

He may be the smallest of all my cats, but his spirit is undaunted. I can’t help but admire him with all he’s been through. I know he’s feeling better when he visits me after I’ve gone to bed and turned out the lights. Samson, Josephine, Fynn and Andre are ever-present, but there’s always room for Eli when I feel his little body land at the end of the bed and he almost tiptoes to my pillow so he can rub his little head against mine – his way of saying, “I love you so much!” The past three nights, he’s curled up next to my side, opposite of Samson, and slept most of the night with me. It’s a reassuring thing that lets me know he’s going to be O.K.

There is much more to write, and I will get to it as soon as I can. For now, thank you for reading my words and keeping me in your thoughts. I think of all of you with warm thoughts and prayers more often than you know!