Kota Kat Still Reigns Supreme

Seven weeks ago, my world slammed to a halt, when sitting next to Kota Kat Supreme on the sofa, I noticed a small brown lump on his nose.

Thinking the worst, because he is a fair skinned cat who has spent a good deal of time sunning himself outside, along with regular patrols around the grounds, I made an appointment for the next day. He had also started sneezing explosively. The vet agreed it looked suspicious and so the next step would be to see a specialist, meaning a trip to Leesburg, an hour away. For all of these doctor appointments, I've had to dose Kota with a sedative. Although the most loving and attentive of companions at home, he has a very pronounced Jekyll and Hyde personality, the worst side displayed in full glory at the vets, regardless of how minor the trip may be. The staff started off entering the exam room armed with huge leather gloves and towels, greeted by ear splitting howls and hisses, until they realized that he was really all mouth and no trousers, and very rarely showed his manicured claws, (a task I undertake at home, an experience accompanied with many lamentations, but with rewards of kisses, cuddles and treats, it's immediately forgotten on release). Soon the doctors learned that Kota really wasn't the formidable beast he liked them to think he was, and they also learned that taking his temperature the old fashioned way was part of the exam that should be left to the very end, (excuse the pun), if attempted at all.
The appointment at Leesburg was traumatic. We went to have a consultation and an MRI, which would reveal results that I didn't want to hear. After chatting to the doctor, Kota had 3 X-rays. These would reveal if the cancer had spread to his abdomen, meaning an MRI would be needless if  the cancer was present. He came back into the room with Kota and informed me that my bestest buddy had advanced heart disease, so the MRI couldn't be done; the general anesthesia needed would almost certainly be fatal. He went on to explain that for Kota's cancer to be eliminated would mean a 10-15 day episode of daily chemotherapy, each visit requiring a GA, and this would possible give him a maximum life extension of 10-12 months. My world bottomed out and I could barely take it all in. But after some careful thinking, it seemed best to let nature take its course and let Kota spend his last days in peace at home without any further pain and trauma caused by numerous vet visits, which really wouldn't give him much additional time.
The next few weeks were dreadful and harrowing. I spent much of the time crying and struggling to accept that Kota wouldn't be around much longer. He had stopped many of his usual routines, spending most of his time on his bed in front of the heater and sleeping. He no longer slept on his pillow on my bed, meaning I now had to leave him in the living room each night and then tentatively enter the next morning, my stomach in knots, wondering how he was. He no longer sat on the bathroom window ledge, washing himself while I was in the shower. He no longer sat by the bathroom sink, rinsing his mouth while I brushed my teeth. He no longer sat next to me while I ate, begging for tit-bits, with his eyes crossing as he stared at every forkful traveling to my mouth, his head sometimes tilting completely over to one side, an action he knew I adored and which would result in an immediate mouthful of something tasty. We'd no longer go for hikes around the meadows, he could only walk a few steps and then lay down, his distended abdomen causing discomfort as it filled with fluid.

The one health issue that wasn't too much of a problem during this period was his nose. The cancer initially seemed to cause him some pain, he would avoid touching it to anything, and so all meals were served off a 'table', made from a pile of books with a layer of wrapping paper for a tablecloth. This was evidently much appreciated as he could now sit at his table and just lean over to grab mouthfuls, with me standing by to shove any food that he'd inadvertently nudged to the furthest away part of the dish, back to within easy reach. The brown scab on his nose was after a few days knocked off, presumably by a paw, but this seemed to be a relief. I dabbed some prescription steroid cream on it and it grew back again, but this time with no ill effects. A week later, this one too disappeared and a third scab started to grow, although much more slowly and with a smaller one to the side of it. But again, his nose gave him no problem at all, and his sneezing fits had stopped.

I took him twice to have his belly drained, each time having to sedate him before we went, and he also had a sedative shot upon arrival, since a GA was out of the question. The fluid was causing a lot of discomfort and this was visible on Kota's face. I had been getting to work very early, usually by 5:30am, so I could leave work early, and then complete any rush jobs from home. I'd be home by 2 and would promptly open the doors so Kota could be outside. He loved to sit on his pillow placed on a chair, eyes closed, and just sniff the breezes, his nose jutting upwards, so every aroma was captured. I would sit next to him as he hated it if I left him alone and went indoors. We would still take daily hikes, but now with me carrying him, so he was perched over my shoulder purring like a tractor, as we made our way across the fields, down to the pond, through the woods, often ending up at his favorite steps where we would sit a while, sometimes watching the dusk fall and the stars begin to twinkle. I would stretch out on my stomach so he could lay on my back, his paws resting on my shoulders. When his little body was swollen it was nearly impossible for him to roll outside, something him and Rosie Lee loved to do as soon as they went outside. He was also unable to wash himself properly so I would help him daily with a soft face cloth soaked in warm water and then gently rub him down with a micro fleece towel afterwards. He purred throughout the routine.

Throughout this ordeal little Rosie Lee's gentle character has shined. She has rarely shown jealousy at Kota's extra attention, instead, sits by him or washes him and waits patiently with a big greeting when we return from our daily hike. They have both been receiving the tastiest of meals. I've been buying the more expensive brands and trying to find those lower in sodium. Treats have become more frequent, especially the little individual foil packs with a morsel of salmon, tuna or chicken inside. Rosie Lee doesn't enjoy any human foods so she always has the cat treats whereas Kota has had mouthfuls of peanut butter, cheese, liverwurst or ham, often with his meds hidden inside.

And so the weeks passed, each morning with me thinking Kota would be leaving me in a couple of days. But he was not giving up, his appetite never waned and he would purr whenever I got close. It broke my heart to see him struggling to get about, just taking a few steps and then having to lay down and rest. The fluid build up was really debilitating. Once he had been drained, the next 3 or 4 days would be wonderful, he would walk more, and even trot a bit in his excitement. He would want to sit on my lap and even jump up on to the bathroom counter. I decided we'd have to fight some more for this little chap, and so made an appointment with a cardiac specialist in Leesburg. Kota wouldn't be able to have surgery, we knew that, but surely something could be done to improve his remaining days.

We were greeted warmly at reception and Kota promptly began his caterwauling. I had refrained from giving him a sedative on this visit since he would only be having an exam and an ultrasound, no nasty needles this time. He took full advantage of this fact and let everyone in the building know he was present. The doctor needed to listen to his heart but was unable to hear anything with his yowling, so carried Kota to the window. The racket stopped as Kota took an immediate interest in outside and I was informed that his heart rate was extremely low. The ultrasound results were also bad,his heart was very enlarged with a fatty build up, a genetic fault, not dietary; the doctor actually said Kota looked exceptionally good for his age and despite his poor health. So we were given bottles of pills with more prescriptions to be filled in a couple of days. He did get a dreaded shot of medicine at the end of the consultation, but at least his temperature wasn't taken. We set off for home, having been told that Kota's life expectancy was 5-6 months at best. But hopefully, they will now be weeks without pain and discomfort.
The past few days have shown a marked improvement in Kota's condition. The fluid has been slowly draining from his body thanks to the Lasix, and even though we've stopped the Prednisone, his appetite or attitude haven't diminished. His nose scab has dropped off again, but still his nose isn't giving him any issues. Because of the cold weather that has suddenly arrived, our time outside has diminished, but he looks more peaceful when sleeping, and he's back on my lap whenever I'm on the sofa. His face has lost the harrowed, worn out look and he acts happier. So for now our little world has regained some normality, Kota's doctors have given him back his life for a little while longer, albeit a slower version, but at least one without so much discomfort. This little guy has made a massive impression on my life and deserves the best care available, he's family. I'm elated to see those blue eyes looking up at me without any pain, I couldn't ask for anything more, our mission has been accomplished, and this little boy with a huge personality will shine for a while longer yet.

S.S. John W. Brown, Liberty Ship

On Saturday I met up with DCUE in Baltimore to explore one of the last remaining three liberty ships in the world, the S.S. John W. Brown. There were originally 2700. The second ship is in San Francisco while the third is in Greece. The Brown is still a sea faring vessel and has cruises a couple of times a year to raise funds. All restoration and maintenance works is paid for by voluntary contributions.
Today we had all happily paid for this opportunity to explore and photograph the ship, and meet some of the volunteers working on board. Our group was given a brief oversight in which this cargo ship was likened to being a 'pick-up truck of the sea' which I liked. The deck had many huge metal loops, painted bright yellow, which had once held down many vehicles, such as planes, tanks and jeeps, along with other heavy equipment and guns. Because there would have been so much cargo, wooden platforms would then have been constructed for people to walk over the top. I stood there for a while picturing this in my mind as I looked about the boat. There were 5 ton booms as well as a 55 ton boom used for swinging tanks and planes on board. Once fully loaded, the ship would sit in the water 3 ft from the top of the plimsoll line.

On board there was a museum area with many photos and explanations of the construction, the engine and the ship personnel, and the man after whom the ship was named. The vessel was built here in Baltimore with Bethlehem steel that was carried down on a railroad from Bethlehem, PA to Fairfield in Baltimore.  There was also a small chapel area, in a nautical theme which was very endearing.

Because most of our group had made a beeline to go down below, I had stayed up on deck to avoid crowding, but after a couple of minutes I became restless; there was only one place I wanted to be, and that was the engine room.

I climbed through a hatch and followed my nose, past a dining area with photos and posters from when the ship was operational, down some stairs and then I found the open door, towards which a wonderful oily fragrance was drawing me.

This diagram sat on top of the engine, a triple expansion steam engine, which powered more ships than any other steam engine. Because of the thick bunker oil that once lubricated it, to get up to full steam would take two days. now it only takes 12 hours. It moves up and down 4ft 76 times a minute, something I would have loved to watch, but today the engine was quiet, the staff performing maintenance checks instead.

The desk where the crew kept returning to, marking jobs done and seeing what was next on the agenda.

Today was the day for flushing water through parts of the engine, so metal filters were wrapped with towels, then suspended in the water to catch any debris or globules of oil.

Looking up at tags for emergency shut off valves and up through the engine room walkways. I kept walking back and forth along these grate pathways, loving the tight corners and the maze like effect, constantly turning tight corners or squeezing between pistons and water tanks. I likely walked a longer distance in the engine room than I did around all the upper decks.

Then, oh joy, I was shown a small hatch, which I would likely have passed by without noticing, but then again, no, I walked about so much down here, I would have come across it, but this doorway led to a dimly lit tunnel in which was housed the drive shaft. I was so excited to see this, wishing I could sit and watch it while it was running. For some reason it made me think of the inside of a Star Trek Federation space ship, the huge long metal pipe disappearing into the distance.

Not sure what this guy was doing but he was so involved in his task I didn't want to interrupt him. He had no idea that I took this photograph, he was so intent on his work.

Original tools for the engine room and the huge shiny and smooth pistons. I had to touch one of these, just a tiny finger tip dab, and the metal actually felt warm, coated in a fine film of oil.

The generators that make the electricity for the vessel.

This shot was from the top of the engine room, looking down between all those pipes. I felt I should leave and at least check out the rest of the ship. I hadn't even seen what else there was on board, so I slowly climbed the up the stairs and back out into the gangway.

I came across a tool room, and spotted an incredibly neatly detailed chart on the door which grabbed my attention, a huge work room with spare parts labeled on shelves, some bunks, which didn't look the least bit comfortable and the medical room, which appeared downright horrific and extremely basic.

I met an interesting elderly gentleman in the wheel room, who saw me inspecting the folded signal flags in pigeon holes and told me some stories regarding them. He has a bumper sticker on his car depicting the Delta flag, which of course few people would recognize, but I loved it. Click here for the flag meanings.
When I had been down in the engine room I had spotted huge round open pipes and correctly guessed that they were air vents. One of the mechanics explained further that they led up to giant funnels on the deck, which could be rotated to catch the wind. One side of the ship would have them turned into the wind so the air blew down into the engine room, and the other side of the ship would have them turned away from the wind so the air in the engine room would be drawn up. In recent years the mechanics have added fans inside the pipes to further assist this wind flow.

 I strolled around the crew's deck, checking out their cabins and sleeping quarters, walked around the whole upper deck but soon found myself heading back down below to the engine room, down to the heart of the ship. I loved the smell, the metal sounds of tools clanging against machinery and the silky feel of the engine oil greasing pipes and shafts and joints.

The top of the engine, the first thing you see when you step down into the engine room,...

... and looking down to the lower two levels, where some of my group were working at their shots.

This brass box caught my eye, since it had some beer labels hanging from it. It's a box that holds the correct amount if oil needed for lubricating the engine for one day. The guys thought it was amusing to add the tags, but I'd rather have drunk the engine oil than the beers on offer here!

More toweling filters being added to metal cylinders which would then be submerged into water underneath the trapdoors over which they were suspended.

I spotted these little tufts that looked like woolen threads hanging down in pairs from narrow pipes. I saw they were saturated with oil and wondered if they were catching the drips from the pipes. I was wrong. They were actually being fed tiny amounts of oil from the pipes, and then as the pistons moved up and down, the shoulders would gently touch these tufts. An ingenious lubrication system.

Absolutely everything down here was aesthetically pleasing to me, these wonderfully meandering walkways, the maze of pipes, the buttons, switches and valves, those gloriously massive pistons, and even the color scheme, which is actually chosen by the Captain, who could order everything to be painted in hot pink if he so liked. I might have to dare him...
I leisurely ambled about some more, just looking at everything down here and studying every angle, trying to imagine what it would sound like when it's cutting through the ocean waves. There will be a 'living cruise' on the ship next June, and I intend to be on it. The ship will sail and we will be allowed in the engine room while its actually running. I'm almost bouncing in my seat in anticipation as I write this.

 I very reluctantly climbed up the ladder for the last time and made my way up to the group where we posed for a photo.

While we waited to leave, a 95 year old gentleman came on board who had served on a liberty ship as an electrician during WWII. I had to have his photo and was pleased that the guy on the left posed too. He had been my main source of information in the engine room, patiently answering all my questions, and had opened the secret hatch door to the drive shaft, offering me a view before I'd even spotted the doorway. He had held the door open as though it were the lid of a treasure chest, I'll never forget that. Magical.
There's some great photos and more information here.
And finally, 
“I emphasize to all of you the simple historic fact that throughout the period of our American life, going way back into colonial days, commerce on the high seas and freedom of the seas has been the major reason for our own prosperity and for the building up of our country….We propose that these ships sail the seas as they are intended to. We propose to the best of our ability to protect them from torpedo, from shell, or from bomb.” - Franklin D. Roosevelt, at the launch of the first Liberty Ship, September 27, 1941.