Well, it's been a different few days. It only took a couple of minutes for the oncologist to send J to be admitted at the local hospital for lung function testing. After four full days there, the news came back: her cancer has started to show up in her lungs.
A couple of transfusions and a chemo drip later, we have a new noisemaker in the house: an oxygen concentrator, connected through a nasal cannula . I've consigned the machine to the middle bedroom with the door shut, where only my collection of teddy bears will suffer the annoyance. If this proves inadequate, we may try the upstairs, with a hole through the closet ceiling for the tube.
Already the newest adopted cat has demonstrated a pernicious interest in the 50 foot long tube. To fend off what may be inevitable fang marks, I've taped the tube to the wall until it reaches our bedroom. J should be able to shake off any attacks when she feels the need to venture out. We use a spray bottle of water along with a vigorous "Get off the table!" as our weapons of choice.
If you really think about it, a few decibels of rattling are a small price to pay for the possibility of extending life expectancy.
Live long and respire!
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