So here’s the scoop. We’ve hit worst case scenario. It’s a tumor. It’s a large one and a bad one. It requires, immediate, very risky surgery. Tomorrow. Waiting is just decreasing chances now that we know things. So… yeah.

Here is how this is going to play out from here on in:

Best case scenario: Fezzik goes through surgery. Tumor is fairly solid as these things go and is fairly easy to remove, as these things go. He lives through surgery and I pick him up over the weekend and spoil him even more rotten than ever before. Then he recovers and I start arranging chemo type stuff for him at a specialist. He has a slightly over 50% chance of making it through the surgery. If he does, the rest is all hope and recovery and doing our best to make sure it doesn’t come back while giving him the best quality of life vs. quantity of life ratio I can manage.

Worst case scenario 1: Fezzik doesn’t live through the surgery. I am dealing, on and off decently, with the idea I may never have my big rumbly purrbox around after tomorrow at 9.

Worst case scenario 2: Doctor opens Fezzik up. Sees cancer already spreading all over or, alternatively, sees the tumor is too loose and risky to pull out. He closes up the cat and then we deal with the problem this has already gone terminal.

Medium case scenarios: Surgery goes great. Tumor comes back quickly. Recovery doesn’t go great. Chemo doesn’t help. All sorts of shit on the middle playing field here. All sorts.

Bottom line: Tomorrow I take Fezzik in for surgery at 9am. I will hear, at some point, how it went. I am fairly confident that this has a good chance of working out. The doctor really sounded like he knew what he was doing, he was smart and honest and patient with me. He doesn’t give me numbers when he can’t. He’s done this before. I trust him with Fezzik. He trusts me to work my best to make sure Fezzik recovers well on my end with what I’ll have to do (medications, care and so on). We both see this as something that isn’t done solo or in the dark.

So we’ve hit the worst case on this, and there’s still hope. Fezzik is a fighter. The odds aren’t criminal. We’re gonna do everything we can do that is smart, helpful and worth doing. I have support from friends and family in this. Fezzik is still my big dumb lump of purring. He’s in the bedroom, right now, sleeping on his pillow case and nuzzling his scratching post. I’m trying to not lose my shit too often. We’ll get through this one way or the other.