Who'd a thunk it

Three weeks ago I went hiking with my seemingly healthy six year old dog. Today, I have to give her five medications per day, feed her by hand, hold her upright for ten minutes after eating so her food will be pushed down her esophagus by gravity and put diapers on her two-three times per day. She's acting completely normal, which is so deceptive. You would never know that they've given her six months to live.

Tomorrow we go in for the second chemo treatment. It's a different drug than last week and will cost us possibly less than half of last week's treatment. She did well with the treatment but I still get nervous. I have nightmares every night, waking up several times to make sure she's ok or because my dream was so bad. My weight loss total is at about 8 pounds. I went to the doctor and got a prescription for anti-anxiety medication.

So, I'm a mess but Lola is happy and that's what matters right now. I want to make her as comfortable and loved. I mean, if this is the last half year of her life I'm going to make it an awesome one. She's my favorite thing ever and I don't know what I'll do if this treatment doesn't work, or actually only gives her six good months.

I can't imagine my life without her. We're coming up on the sixth anniversary of when Kevin and I drove to Indiana to get her and she changed our lives. She's been such a gift. 

ups and downs

I'm sitting here looking at my dog, who's kind of doped up from the needle biopsy she has today. She's wearing a diaper, her third of the evening...she peed in two so far. We just went on a walk and she acted pretty spry but she's definitely tired.

This morning I woke up at 5am to the sound of her panting. I couldn't get her to calm down. I had her get off the bed, which she had peed in her sleep, and she stopped panting but was breathing in short, shallow breaths. I immediately freaked out and brought her to the vet. We were supposed to be there at 6am anyway so it wasn't that much earlier. The tech or nurse, not so sure, took her back and measured her oxygen levels and they were great, 98%, which put me at ease. I took my bedding to work to wash the urine out of it.

The vet called around 9, said that Lola looked great and that they were waiting for the small needle aspirate results, which should show up around noon. I got called at about 2:20. The results were not definitive. When I spoke with Dr.Bowen she told me that she trusts the pathologist greatly so she believes that he couldn't get a clear picture of what we're looking at. He said it could look like mast cell tissue but he couldn't say. At this point I started to feel much better, as mast cell tumors have a much better outlook than lymphoma. Lymphoma seems to be a death sentence, be it four weeks or four years, everything I read says it will kill your dog.  Dr. Bowen wanted to do a needle biopsy so we can get a clearer picture, which involves Lola being sedated. This is a little nerve racking because her lungs aren't working to capacity with the pneumonia, but she did fine.

I left work feeling hopeful that maybe they are mast cell tumors. Those two hours were pretty nice...imaging a future with my baby again. My hopes were dashed when I got the vet (as was my wallet. yikes!). When I asked if it was maybe mast cell tumors she said that she highly doubts it, that it looks very much like lymphoma and that the mediastinal tumor definitely looks like lymphoma but they didn't take a sample since it's so close to the heart, and is why she has megaesphagus and has trouble swallowing.

So, yeah, lymphoma is not a great diagnosis, especially if it's as far along as Dr. Bowen thinks it is.

They sent me home with two pages of instructions and six medications. Since I'll be at work for the next two days, Lola will go back to the hospital so they can administer the medication at it's proper time.

Although she ate well she's been freaking me out all evening. She's very groggy from the sedative and was acting like she was in slow motion. This diaper thing is tough too....I thought I'd put it on as a precaution but she used it twice which makes me wonder if she's losing control of her bladder.

This is not supposed to be happening to my six year old baby girl. 

deep breath

Hours later, a little more calm. You kind of take it for granted, the fact that the being that you see every day, that you sleep with every night, that you plan your life around, will just be around forever. More than once this evening I got off the couch and expect to see her on her bed or sitting next to the couch. But no, empty bed, empty floor. I kept looking at the clock planning her next walk. Instead, I sit in my bed surrounded by cats who are more than happy to have a dog-free house.

It might not be cancer. It looks very much like cancer but they haven't actually tested the mass, they do that tomorrow at the oncologist when they do the in depth ultrasound. Until then, it just looks like cancer, and pneumonia and an inflamed esophagus, and an unknown mass near her heart with elevated white blood cells and depleted platelets. Until then, it looks bad but looks can be deceiving. Since there were no masses in her lungs if it is cancer we can hopefully do treatment.

She's only six. I should have many more years with her. I better have many more years with her. 

fuck.

Yeah. I swore. Whatever. Lola has cancer, or suspected cancer. We see an oncologist tomorrow. I don't know what I would do if she died. I'm serious.