The Purr-fect Nurse

Much to my surprise, I have the purr-fect nurse. You may have heard of her before – our cat Baby. 

As I started my breast cancer journey, Baby seamlessly slid out of her housecat persona into being the purr-fect nurse.

Baby has always had what Shya and I affectionately call a “petite purr,” barely audible, mostly felt when stroking under her chin. All that changed when she got down to work.

After my biopsy to check for breast cancer, I was pretty knocked out and spent a couple days in bed. On the second day, Nurse Baby insisted on trying something totally new: climbing up on my chest, settling in and purring loudly. The warmth of her body and rumbling vibrations were soothing. 

Soon after the biopsy, I was diagnosed with cancer, a tumor, and some lymph nodes that needed to be removed. After the surgery, I had a rather painful period of sleep and healing, Nurse Baby in attendance.

Somehow she sensed that sleeping on the actual site was a no go. Climbing on the bed, she pulled my arm toward her and slept with her head draped over my wrist, acting as an anchor, a healing presence, and an expression of love. 

Days later, my recovery underway, Baby again provided the purr-fect medicine. She climbed into my lap and we napped together as Shya, quiet as a cat, cleared lunch dishes and silenced the TV, all unnoticed as we slept.

How she knew? I don’t know, but as my healing continues, I’m grateful to be attended by the purr-fect nurse.