Stacy Horn

First, I thought Finney was going to get a ct scan today, but it was a consult only. If I do the minimum, get a ct scan and proceed with surgery to try to get the tumor but no amputation, the cost I was quoted was: $6,921.51. Seven thousand dollars, basically. The ct scan part of that cost is $2,998.72. Or, three thousand.

I didn’t ask what the cost would be for amputation, because we’re looking at a major, major, major amputation and he said it was a very aggressive cancer, meaning the chance of a good outcome is low, and a good outcome is at best six months to a year or two.

Removing the tumor alone, however, may not work at all. Without spending the $3,000 for the ct scan to see how much it has spread I don’t even know if this is an option, but even if it is, it might buy him a couple of months or more, or it may buy him nothing. I’d go into debt for nothing.

So, I started looking into going out on Long Island for the ct scan and surgery, because I’m sure it’s less expensive out there. But even if I could find someone to do it at a more reasonable rate, do I want to put him through something that does not have a good chance of working?

The point is, I have no good options.

Finney in his carrier waiting for his consult.

I wish I had gotten an earlier appointment. I’m taking Finney for a consultation with a surgeon and I got a call saying don’t feed him after midnight (because he’s a gremlin) in case they need to perform surgery. It’s not very likely, I’m still leaning away from surgery, and I don’t see it happening right there and then. They have to do more tests, and then I want to discuss it with his regular vet. But who knows? So, now I’m sitting here with two hungry cats, waiting for the time when I can leave.

About the debate. I watched. I didn’t think Trump did as bad as last time, or that Hillary did as well, which was upsetting. But on the plus side, I don’t think last night will effect the election much. Some pundits are saying “he staunched the bleeding of his campaign,” but I don’t think he did as well as that. I think he will continue to fall, or bleed, just not at such a steep rate.

I took pictures of my apartment for insurance purposes. My shelves tell my whole life story. All the cat medications, my choir music, swimming trophies, the books I’ve read, and so on.

Finney’s test results finally came back and he definitely has fibrosarcoma. But my vet said it’s still possible he would only need a leg amputation and even old cats can handle an amputation well. I love this vet and really trust her, and she strongly suggested taking Finney to a surgeon for a ct scan and a consult. The surgeon would weigh all the options; Finney’s age, weight, his arthritis, and then give me realistic options. I know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t make a decision based on all the facts. So I’m taking Finney to a surgeon on Monday.

I feel for my neighbors. All day and all night I’m yelling, “BLEECKER! NO!” Here he is, about to pounce on Finney. I prevented it. This time. Of course I wonder how a three-legged Finney would manage against him.

It’s only going to be a small section in my book, but I looked into the story of Mary Ellen Wilson, a child who was taken from Blackwell’s Island and put into an abusive situation. Investigation of her treatment ultimately led to the creation on the New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. I went uptown to the New-York Historical Society to see if I could find the original papers for Mary Ellen’s indenture. It was my understanding that she was indentured and not adopted. An indenture is a contract entered into with, in this case, the Department of Charities and Correction. A child was bound out as a servant or an apprentice, and in return the child had to be fed, cared for, educated, and taught a skill. Anyone taking a child was to report on the child’s condition and progress once a year, but follow-up at the time was lax. At the end of the indenture period the now grown child had to be supplied with a set of clothes, a pair of shoes and a small amount of money.

I was only looking into it because it was insane how easy it was to get children who essentially became slaves. Which is not to say that all people who indentured children treated them that way, or badly.

As you can see from Mary Ellen’s contract, from the couple’s point of view it was an adoption. All terms referring to the indenture were crossed out and filled with in terms describing an adoption, ie, Apprentice was crossed out and they wrote in “Child,” and Master was crossed out and they wrote in “Parent. Thomas McCormick would later claim that Mary Ellen was his daughter with another woman. But I looked through the logbooks and many of the indentures had the same cross-outs. It’s telling that indenture and adoption were handled the same way.

Okay, I watched maybe five minutes. Based on my one brief snapshot, they both did well by their candidate. I wish that every time Pence lied and said that Trump hadn’t said what Trump most assuredly did say, Kaine had said, “What’s almost as disturbing is your lying to my face, the moderator’s face, and to the faces of every American, because we know you know that Trump said X.”

Passed by on my way to the dentist. It does seem like a horribly barbaric practice.