Lately & Blog Hop

Lucky has the week off from her chemo treatments.  This last round was the strongest drug and she's gotten sick a few times, but ironically enough she runs to the kitchen begging for treats right after.  I know her tummy's bound to hurt but she acts like she's not phased by it. She still seems happy and snuggly as ever, still bouncing around and playing with her toys.  Her treatment next week should not be as bad.  She's had this drug before with no reactions.

We went for a CBC check with our vet this week and everything came back good.  I took Abby in for a thyroid test and found myself growing irratated with the people in the waiting room.  They just gaped at her and when they caught me watching they looked away as if she were contagious.  I finally spoke up and said, "She had bone cancer and part of her jaw removed" to no one in particular and then they all lept into apologizing and poor, sweet, pup mode.  I can't imagine what it's like to have a real child that is handicapped or deformed.  Lord knows, I'd probably get in some real trouble not being able to tame my tounge!

Oh...and Abby finally got her tennis balls back this week!  My husband has been hesitant to let her have them after all the surgeries and he wanted to make sure her mouth was completely healed.  I'd bought her soft, squishy, squeaky balls but she just wasn't into them so I made the executive decision this week that she was ready for her regular balls, and thankfully my husband agreed.  She was like a kid at Christmas.  I'll try and post a picture later! :)

AND....

I am participating in my first blog hop!  The folks over at Life with Dogs are so graciously hosting a hop and I decided to get in on it!

Here we go again.

Lucky's first chemo treatment went very well.  She seemed to suffer no side effects and was her usual playful self with no vomiting or diarrhea.  She had one morning where she wouldn't finish her breakfast but when I came home from work, she was begging for food.  Otherwise, she seemed completely happy and content.

Her second treatment didn't quite go as well.  She's had no side effects since the first day of the treatment, however, the first day was extremely scary.  I went to pick her up after her chemo and the dog they brought out to me was not my dog.  She collapsed at my feet, not wanting to get up and when I tried to walk her out the door she was literally dragging her feet so they scraped across the floor.  I immediately called for help and told them she was NOT acting right.  Somehow it had gone unnoticed but shortly after the vet rushed out and said she most definitely was not acting normal and that tests needed to be done right away to determine the cause, as these symptoms were like nothing she'd ever seen with a chemo patient.  She was lethargic and oddly enough, yelping when she swallowed.  The vet was concerned that her stomach was distended and recommended immediate x-rays.  In a panic I of course agreed.  About 30 minutes later she came out and said it hadn't been that, but they were still puzzled.  Being a speciality hospital they had a range of doctors come look at her, each being stumped.  They began to think she had a spinal infection and recommended x-rays of her neck and spine, and again I obliged.  I was so worried, and had to leave the office to gather myself.  The vets told me to go home and they'd observe her and give me a call if anything came up.

Meanwhile, our oncologist was on the net, searching for rare side effects to this particular type of chemo.  Symptoms of this nature had never been reported in dogs, or at least not that she could find.  But similar symptoms had been reported in 1%  of humans who'd received the treatment.  She called it neurological leprathy, and said it was a temporary lapse in control over fine motor skills.  She wasn't certain that this was the case, but at this point all we could do was take her home and watch her.

Within a few hours, thankfully, she improved.  By the next day our scare was behind us.  She was bouncing around playfully, full of energy yet again.  Of course we were out another few 100 in vet bills, but at this point we try not to bat and eye and just flash the plastic and stow away bills so we don't have to look at them.

We are so thankful it turned out to be a temporary thing, but stumped as to how these odd, random, things keep occurring to us.   We try to remain positive but sometimes it seems overwhelming.  We almost lost our house we've been trying to buy last week, and my husband got in a wreck this weekend.  (Though thankfully no one was hurt).  Our friends joke that every time they call, they never know what to expect from us.  I keep telling myself our luck has to turn around eventually and hope that it does.  But at this point I suppose I should be thankful for the many blessings God has given me including my two beautiful fur babies and my super supportive husband.

Lucky's next treatment is today!

The End? Not by a long shot.

I had begun the last post a few weeks ago, and I had started thinking that this blog was coming to a completion.  That aside from a few other things I wanted to write about, there wasn't much more to do than provide updates on the girls.  It was a nice feeling to imagine I'd finally caught up on this project.


Thinking like that is what gets me in trouble.  I should know by now to never let my guard down.  On Tuesday, January 31, we found out Lucky now has lymphoma. 


It started about a month ago when I noticed her lymph nodes were swollen.  I took her to the vet and he recommended a round of antibiotics to rule out infection.  After two weeks the lymph nodes had shown a little response so he put her back on another round.  We thought they might be continuing to go down but suddenly they popped back up, bigger than ever.


We took her back to the vet and he suggested taking a lymph node to have it biopsied.  She had surgery and on the 31st we got the results.  We were devastated.  I immediately called Carolina Veterinary Specialists and got an appointment with an oncologist the next day.


Again, we started on this emotional roller coaster.  You'd think we'd be used to it by now, but again the feelings of panic and disbelief set in.  How in the world could this be happening AGAIN?  How could Lucky now have 2 different types of cancer and Abby another completely different type of cancer?  What were the odds?  Why did we deserve this?


The oncology appointment the next day went better than expected.  We discussed our options including different types of chemo and were told that with chemo, dogs typically have a pretty significant increase in life span.  It is still fatal and is very rarely cured. It didn't take us even a minute to decide.  When the vet closed the door to let us discuss it, my husband looked at me and said, "Let's do it," and off we are again.

We elected to do the CHOPS protocol which is a mix of various different chemo drugs given over a 19 week period.  She will get chemo for 4 weeks, get a week off, and then repeat the same cycle until the end of the treatment.   We decided not to wait and start treatment that same day.

Of course, we found ourselves making another difficult financial decision.  So much of our lives has been guided by our dogs.  We have been looking for a house for a year and ironically have found one.  However, after all this with Abby and the financial pit we dug ourselves, what we wanted in a house had to change, drastically.

We knew we wanted some land and privacy and that it had to be far off the road for the dogs.  We originally thought we could afford somewhere in the 150K range, yet it quickly became clear that this was no longer and option.  We started looking at foreclosures and found a home that is far from our dream home, but will allow us to have lower mortgage payments than what we pay in rent, and hopefully slowly start paying down some of these massive credit card and loan bills.

Of course we are now adding to the debt, but how can we not?  God knows we love these dogs more than words can express, and we have to give Lucky the same chance as Abby.  God willing Abby has been cured and there is a 3% chance that Lucky could be too.  I have to hold on to that 3% chance.  We did what everyone else told us was impossible with Abby.  Why not Lucky too?   If our odds with fate are such that we have two dogs who between them have now had 3 different types of cancer, we've got crazy luck anyways.  We're just hoping that it can work in both directions.

Amidst the chaos

In the middle of dealing with all of this with Abby, Lucky had several spots simulataneously appear in different places around her body.  Of course, having already experienced mast cell with her, our red flags were thrown up and I started to panic yet again.  My husband made an appointment to take her in and have them aspirated before deciding whether or not to surgically remove them.  So off we were to yet another vet appointment.  The night before, I had yet another break-down and suddenly feared the worst.  I was so sure it would be horrible and that we'd be dealing with the possibility of losing not just one dog, but two.  Negative thinking seemed to be an ability which I'd become greatly skilled in over the past few months. 

However, when my husband took her in the results of the aspirations weren't horrible  The vet felt that only one of them looked suspicious and said that in his experience, what he saw under the microscope wasn't probably too bad, if it was mast cell.  Still we elected to have them all removed as soon as possible.  A few days later they took Lucky in and cut off the spots we found, plus some we'd somehow missed (she ended up with 7 spots total removed).  The poor girl was miserable all night.  She is a drama queen and a whiner, and did not take well to pain medicene at all. She actually had a strange reaction to the sedatives which though harmless, really freaked me out.  All of this just resulted in a groggy, whiny, pup who spent the night howling in pain. :(

The next few days passed slowly while we waited for the results.  You'd think we'd be old pros at it by now and able to find time to keep busy and forget our fears of the unknown and momentarily get on with life, but it wasn't that simple.  Again, I watched the clock and kept my phone by my side constantly.   We finally got the call one day around noon.  Everything had come back fine.  I felt like we'd dodged a bullet.

But the thing with cancer is, you never know.  Even when you think your dog is in remission, there's always that chance that somewhere inside that precious furry body is a cancer cell, waiting to multiple and wreck havoc once again.  Once someone you love has had cancer, life is not the same anymore, and it seems somedays as though you live waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Or in our case, the other BOMB, that fell just this week.

The long, long, road to recovery...

Two days after we got home she started sneezing.  Not your run of the mill ah-choo a few times and it's over sneezing, rather violent sneezing fits where she sprayed food and water out of her nose.  She couldn't eat or drink without sneezing.  Sometimes she wouldn't eat at all and we had trouble getting her to even eat enough to take her medicine.

Luckily, the surgeons at CSU had already set us up with specialists near our home town.  We took Abby to Carolina Veterinary Specialists and learned that the stitches inside her mouth had come undone and a hole had opened up in the roof of her mouth causing food and water to gather in the empty cavity and trigger her sneezing fits.  The surgeon there stitched her up and recommended that we switch her to canned food and roll her food into small meatballs so she wouldn't have to chew or eat.  The fact that I was having to take her off home-cooked foods that I knew were balanced and nutritious troubled me, but my husband reminded me it would just be for long enough to get her healed.  Still at her weight of 75 lbs, she was eating 3-4 cans a day and at $1.50 a can that added up quickly.  Especially on top of the vet bills, medication, and other supplements.  Not to mention Lucky would still be enjoying her homemade dinners which came at a hefty price tag.   We ended up feeding her Iams, because that was the best we could afford, and in my book, it still wasn't good enough.

Even with the change in diet, we still ended up back at the specialist 3 days later when she busted her stitches again.  They stitched her up and sent her home....again, and again, and again.  We soon learned that the radiation we had elected to do over the summer had basically nuked her tissue, and her tissue wasn't happy about it.  After a couple of weeks it became clear that more drastic measures would have to be taken so they elected to do a "minor" (if you call $800 minor) revision surgery where they put a biosist graft over the hole in her mouth and along with re-enforcing some of the weaker areas.  After week,   we started to breathe a little easier and then on the 8th day....sneezing again. She actually managed to get the graft out of her mouth completely, apparently swallowing it.  We went back to the stitch it back up and see method, and again for about two weeks were visiting twice weekly with new holes. Supposedly she was making progress though, so the second revision surgery, with yet another graft, was going to hopefully fix it, yet a few days later, she was minus another graft and sneezing yet again. 

Round and round we went for another four weeks.  It seemed like we'd take two steps forward and then ten back.  She would be doing better, then without fail, the hole would reopen and we'd be back to square one.  The stress during this time was unbelievable.  When she got breakfast and dinner it was like waiting for a pin to drop.  The process itself was incredibly slow.  It took about 20 minutes just to prepare her food into tiny meatballs, and then another 20 to feed her as you had to do it painstakingly slow, praying all the while that she wouldn't sneeze.  But inevitably she did.

All the while I wondered if it was all worth it.  Sometimes when I'd pick her up after getting re-sutured or having one of her 3 "minor" revision surgeries she would cry softly in the back seat and I would break down and cry along with her.  She had to be sedated constantly since she was such a high strung dog and in her recovery her mouth was in such a fragile state.  There was even a 2-3 week period where she had to wear a muzzle because the surgeon felt it might help her heal better. I sometimes felt we were being cruel to put her through all of this, but then another part of me felt like we'd come so far, and overcome so much that we couldn't give up yet.  Despite the multiple procedures she was happy.  She still loved to snuggle and fought us when we took her outside on her least because she wanted to roam free in the yard as she usually did.  She was still high spirited and as sassy as ever, surely that meant something.



Two months after her original surgery we were at the end of our ropes.  We had spent over $6,000 since Colorado, and that wasn't including the thousands we'd spent at CSU and NC State.  Our credit cards were maxed out and our spirits were low.  Despite the fact that approximately 80% of her mouth had healed the last 20% was stubborning holding out. I was beginning to think that we may have to give up and let her go.  I didn't know what else to do.  Our surgeon contacted the surgeons in Colorado asking for their advice.  After a lengthy discussion, they decided that the best option would be to take muscle from the top of her head (the "temple" area as it was explained to us) and pull it down to fill the hole in her mouth. It was going to be another big surgery, we another long recovery period, but basically it seemed like our only shot.  We reluctantly said okay, though we had no idea how we were going to pay the bill at the time.

At this point my spirits were down, and though I still had faith, it had begun to waver.  I pulled out a book that I'd bought but never finished reading and started plowing through the pages hoping to renew all the fight for her I had left in me.  The book, The Secret, is all about how the power of positive thinking can change your life, and how by refusing to let negative thoughts in, you can will the universe to make your dreams come true.

I decided to re-program my mind, and every time that seed of doubt came in, push it out with positive thoughts.  Every time I would start to think, "What if this doesn't work?" I'd replace that thought with, "This WILL work."  I sincerely hoped this new line of thought would help as we continued Abby's road to recovery.

On November 16th, the surgeon at CVS preformed the surgery, which once again, Abby came through beautifully (she's a trooper for sure!).  There was a small problem in that they'd had to cut an optic nerve which rendered her unable to blink in her left eye.  She would require medicene in that eye for the rest of her life to help her produce tears.  However, she'd already been on the medicene because of low-tear production caused by radiation, so even though we were upset, it didn't seem to be a huge deal.  When we picked her up I was again blindsided by how horrible she looked and my faith was shaken for a moment until I reminded myself that I no longer could afford any negative thoughts.

Slowly the days creeped by and everyday I counted them again to make sure they were actually passing.  When she ate or drank we held our breath waiting to see what would happen.  Everyday that she made it without sneezing I would thank God and tell myself that my positive thinking was working.  Over Thanksgiving, I sent my husband off to visit his family (who he rarely sees) and stayed home alone with her and Lucky.  A few times, I started to feel sorry for myself, being all alone on Thanksgiving, but just looking at my sweet pups and reminding myself I had another day with them to be thankful for, shook that self-pity away.


A week passed and even though we wanted to celebrate, we didn't because she'd made it that long before.  After ten days, we started to wonder if this was actually working.  Fourteen days and we started to breath again, just a tiny bit.  When the 3 week mark arrived and we took her back for her checkup the entire office squealed with delight when they heard she'd made it 3 whole weeks.  I wanted to do cartwheels and wondered why I hadn't been thinking positive all along.  Finally after four and a half weeks (four days before Christmas) she went back and got the all clear.  Cone off, stitches out...three long, long months after her original surgery.  And boy was she happy!!  The first time we let her out into the yard all by herself, she stood at the door staring at us, waiting for us to accompany her around the yard dutifully.  When she figured out we weren't she bounced off like a bunny rabbit and started howling at the wind.  Probably just because she could.  Seeing her like that made my eyes well up with tears all over again.  But this time they were truly tears of joy.

Into the great unknown

Two weeks later we packed our bags and headed to Colorado.  It was a 26 hour drive, which we made in 28.  Fortunately since my husband works 3rd shift we were able to alternate driving times - me during the day and him at night.  To save time we ate a LOT of junk food and fast food and only made about 5 short breaks to walk the dogs and take potty breaks ourselves.  It was a long grueling drive and were sooo thankful when we finally made it to Colorado.

We checked into the condo we were renting and took the longs for a nice long walk.  Before leaving we were warned about rattlesnakes which gave me a whole new reason to worry and I kept Lucky (my husband walked Abby) on a tight leash for fear she'd venture even the slightest bit off trail and get struck by a snake.

We all survived and the only fear I had to face was the fear of the surgery the next day.  It was terrifying when we dropped her off the next morning and I feared that the day ahead would be one of the longest of my life.  However, when we got back to the condo to wait for the call I miraculously fell asleep.

Abby the day of her big surgery

When the phone startled me awake from my sleep my first thought was to feel guilty for sleeping through this time.  My second was panic because I had no idea what to expect. However, a wave of relief passed through me when they said, "She made it through surgery just fine.  We think we got it all but we'll have to wait for the pathology report to confirm."  We still had to wait another day to see her, as the doctors said she needed her rest, and they warned us that it was going to be very difficult to see her for the first time.  Still, the relief of knowing everything had went well and that she was fine lifted the weight of what felt like an elephant off my chest.

The next evening we saw her for the first time.  Her face was grotesquely swollen to enormous proportions.  Despite my joy at her having made it through surgery and the hope that they got it all, I started to cry.  It looked so painful, and I wondered what we'd done.  The doctors let us take her out for a quick walk and she whimpered quietly while we walked her and my heart broke.  Abby is not a whiner, never has been, and to hear her whine meant she had to be hurting.  Her sister Lucky will whine over anything, dinner being 5 minutes late, because she wants to play, because she wants a treat or attention...but Abby, she never whined before.  While I was fighting back tears, one of the students assigned to her case walked along side of me, trying to reassure me that we'd done the right thing and that she would recover soon.  I prayed she was right.

Abby three days after her surgery

The next day we took a trip to the Rocky Mountain National Park to get things off our minds.  We enjoyed the beautiful scenery but I was still sad she wasn't with us (despite the fact that they don't allow dogs out of vehicles except for at public sites like picnic areas and campgrounds...who knew?)  She stayed in the hospital until Friday and we stayed in Colorado for two more days just in case something happened.  When she was released we were still walking on egg shells.  I would tense up every time she ate, worried she'd hurt her mouth.  We stayed locked inside the condo those few days, which slowly crept by.  Finally on Sunday she was released and we made the long trek home, again in roughly 26 hours.  It felt so good to be home!  Abby still had a month of stitches in her mouth and a cone on her head, so we were prepared for a long road ahead, but we were in no way prepared for how long the road would be...

Last day in Colorado- one of the lighter moments - the simultaneous squat captured on camera...Haha!

Leap of Faith

Abby's CT was done at a local speciality hospital who worked with us to get the results that day and have them submitted to CSU immediately.  Even as fast as they worked, it wasn't fast enough.  I carried my phone around that day, completely distracted at work.  I knew there was a strong possibility the results would be bad, but I had to believe in the possibility they would be good. 

It was that evening before Dr. Nolan from CSU called me back.  I was on my way to pick up Abby and my sister had graciously gone with me for support (Thank GOD for my families support through all of this!).  When I saw the number on my phone my pulse skyrocketed and I picked it up anxious to hear what he had to say. 

In order for the surgery to be possible, the tumor could not have crossed the mid-line The tumor had not crossed into her brain despite what the emergency room vet had predicted.  It was very close to crossing mid-line but had not yet.  The surgery would still be a gamble as they predicted only a 60% chance of being able to completely excise the tumor.  And of course there was the risk of complications during surgery.  There was a 15% chance she wouldn't even make it through the surgery.

Complicating matters even further was the timeline.  We had hoped to leave the next week because my husband could only get 3 days off, and working a 12 hour swing shift, it just so happened that the next week fit into his schedule.  However, the next week he couldn't do it because he would need 4 days off. Unfortunately there was no way to fit her surgery in the following week. That meant that in order to make the trip we'd have to wait TWO more weeks and pray there wasn't any more growth in the tumor that would worsen the odds even further.

It was a HUGE decision.  Not only was it a big risk in the first place, it would also put us in an  even bigger financial bind between the cost of travel and the surgery.  I went home that evening fully anticipating a big discussion/arguement with my husband.  Instead, he said,"Let's do it," and the decision was made.

That's not to say we didn't waiver in our faith in our decision.  The next two weeks were full of fears.  I broke down several times, uncertain if we were doing the right thing.  Surgery would require a long, painful recovery.  Was it fair to do that to Abby?  Would she want this?  If they didn't get all of the tumor, how much time were we really buying her?  Would it be worth it then? 

In the meantime, I was scrambling to get everything together.  In order to do this, I had to take a whole week off of work.  We also had to rent a car as we needed an SUV and our SUV is older and we weren't sure it would make the long trip out there.  We had get a loan from our bank just to fund the trip itself  and between gas, lodging and the car rental we were looking at spending 2K. It added up fast.  But some force drove me to keep on, and through my doubt this seed of hope remained.  There was this voice inside me that seemed to calm me and tell me it would all work out.  And so with that small grain of hope, we took the biggest leap of faith of our lives.