And Now We Wait
This last round of chemo (#3) really seemed to take a toll on my girl. She seems more tired than before, needs to be coaxed to begin eating (though once she gets going stand back) and has had a little diarrhea. She’s just kind of blah. And I’m just kind of……….I don’t know what. I feel like I’m always watching, waiting, looking…….any sign that she’s not feeling well makes me very nervous. Maybe I’m hovering a little if you will. It’s almost as though I’ve let how she feels dictate my outlook. If she’s doing great, I’m doing great. If she’s not feeling that good I’m in a panic. Ok maybe more like a tizzy but it’s just not that pretty. We’re kind of at that halfway mark. They are going to evaluate her at her next appointment. Depending on how she does I may delay her a little. I want her to bounce back and recover before we knock her down again. I am trying to maintain her weight, so is she. The days just go on and on with no end in sight.
It’s almost like we’re in the middle of it all and it seems like it’s been so much and there’s so much ahead of us. I lay on the floor with her a lot and just pet and hug her. I gave her filet mignon to help prevent anemia. She didn’t mind. I listen for her little “click click thump” walk on the hard wood floor in my sleep and when I hear it I’m up checking on her. It’s like being in school and half the year is over and you’ve tried your best and you’ve been “on” all the time and suddenly you just need a vacation. We need a break and it’s not coming. There is underlying worry. I can’t lie. Always the doubt, should we be doing this. I know my girl loves life but to see her not feel well has me feeling bad for her. I think I can’t see the forest through the trees. I don’t know what I expected. I know I didn’t expect the third chemo to hit her hard. I thought it was smooth sailing. I think it reminds me that my dog is sick. Aside from her missing leg. Sometimes I’m sick to my stomach because I can’t get away from it, the underlying worry and sadness and anger and inability to cure her and make her feel better. No relief in site. I’m trying so hard to stay positive and strong, especially for her. And I stretch the minutes out. I hug her and inhale the smell of her fur to make sure I imprint it. I give her massages, rub her little feet, kiss her little face. This is hard. It’s easy to make the decisions and say “ok, surgery, then chemo then no more sick dog”. You forget about all the in-betweens. The blood work, the vet visits, making sure each meal is a good one. Maybe it’s caregiver fatigue. I don’t get much help with the appointments. No one else coaxes her to eat. I’m trying to give her brother more attention since she’s getting more and it’s exhausting. Maybe I’m the only one on constant high alert. I don’t know any other way. And yet, as much as I may have caregiver fatigue my poor little girl has treatment fatigue. She has it worse than me and I don’t want to complain.
I know we’re mired in the details right now. I look forward to the day when chemo is over and we just have our little girl at home and stop poking and prodding her. Maybe there’s a piece of me that thinks when it’s over she’ll be all better and we won’t have to face this reality anymore. My thoughts are all over the place and I just have volumes to write (but I won’t). Bottom line……this shit’s real and it’s tough and it’s scary. But we keep climbing toward the top of Mount Unknown.
Sorry for such a long post. I just hope I didn’t lose you at “hello”. If nothing else it’s a glimpse of what you go through during treatment and maybe it will help you better prepare and understand the feelings you might have while you cope. At the end of the day, I just love my dogs and say “left, right, breathe…..”. Keep moving forward.
Until next time,
xoxo
Debbie and Patches
linda8115
November 1, 2015 @ 1:28 pm
We are feeling those same emotions Debbie. This is one wicked hard journey with the unknown staring at us. We are doing 4 chemos and then letting the chips fall where they may. All I know is we don’t have any guarantees in life and however this turns out we will spoil and love every minute we have with Max. We got him out of the pain of walking on that cancerous leg and that was our primary goal. Every day we have had since then has been extra days to show him how loved he is and making joyful memories to cherish. Your love for Patches shines through all your posts. I always try to remember dogs aren’t worried about tomorrow so I’m going to try to focus on all our today’s and take each one as it comes. Love and hugs to you and your beautiful Patches!
Linda and Max
careygram
November 2, 2015 @ 1:53 pm
Thanks Linda. It’s nice to be heard and understood by people who are going through the same thing. It IS a wicked hard journey and yes, some days are harder than others but I’m learning new things every day. Thank you for your kind words, they mean so much!
xoxo
Debbie and Patches
cpessoni
November 1, 2015 @ 7:13 pm
I know it’s so hard when our pups don’t feel good! I still worry about every little thing, and the fact that they can’t talk to us really doesn’t help. But you know that you’re making these decisions to help Patches, and with nothing but love for her.
I think I have just as many doubts and uncertainties with our decision NOT to do chemo. I’m guessing it’s agonizing either way.
Here’s hoping she bounces back great and you soon have chemo behind you. And keep loving every good moment!!! That’s what’s getting us through. As Lynda said , it’s an uncertain future no matter what, and you’re doing the very best for Patches each day.
Cindy and Maggie
careygram
November 2, 2015 @ 1:55 pm
Hi Cindy,
thank you so much for your kind words. It’s all so true and then some. There are NO easy decisions and the day to day playing it by ear can wear on people. Thankfully we also have good days and they balance out. I hope you and Maggie are doing well. If you ever have questions or need an ear, we rae here.
xoxo
Debbie And Patches
dobemom
November 2, 2015 @ 1:20 am
Oh, Debbie, I wish I could say the worry and doubting and agonizing over every little thing goes away, but it really doesn’t. We are almost 17 months into this journey, and I still feel every one of those emotions. Nitro was a little “off” during the chemo too; we ended up increasing the time between doses, and I think that helped a little. His appetite was not great either, but now he’s back to eating with gusto. I also get the care-giver overload feeling. I almost can’t imagine a time when cancer, 3 legs, and uncertainty aren’t a part of my every waking moment…..but I don’t want that either, because that probably means he’s not here with me. Don’t be afraid to re-evaluate at any time, this journey isn’t set in stone. Good luck, I hope your mind is eased in the upcoming days.
Paula and Nitro
careygram
November 2, 2015 @ 2:04 pm
Hey Paula,
you absolutely get it. And thank you for sharing your chemo experience, I am going to ask the vet about spacing the last two treatments out to give her a little more recovery time. I’m still amazed that Nitro is 17 months post op. You are doing the metronomic therapy correct? The vet wants to do that after chemo. I have to see what it involves and ask Patches what she thinks. I pray that we have as good an outcome as you and Nitro. But you make a great point. All the worrying means at least we still have them with us. Thank you so much for providing this wisdom. I hope I can pay it forward as you have. I’m so happy you have Nitro and he’s rocking the tripawd style. If you ever need someone to talk to, we are here 🙂
xoxo
Debbie and Patches