It Hits a Third Time
I can understand my own cancer. I led a life of debauchery, sex, drugs, and rock & roll. C's cancer is a little harder to understand because she was a total straight arrow. Perhaps it was her close association with me. But to see it happen to the Wonder Dawg is totally fucked.
Of course, I don't believe any of that except the "fucked" part and that is associated with all three of us and anyone else struck down by a relentless disease.
My faithful companion of the last thirteen or so years was diagnosed last week with aggressive malignant melanoma. She had a growth on the top of her mouth that I noticed about a year ago but decided to ignore as long as she was eating well and not giving evidence of impairment (ok, just add that to the long list of why I'm going to hell). But a couple of weeks ago, she ate something crunchy while out at a cabin and her mouth started to bleed, so it was time for a vet visit.
At that time, we saw that in addition to the "puffball" like growth hanging down from the roof of her mouth, there was a new mass behind it that looked different. Surgery was scheduled for the next day. The lab result came a week later - malignant melanoma. Aggressive malignant melanoma.
Today, I took her back to the vet for a followup visit. He was pleasantly surprised at the appearance of her surgery site and very pleased that her lymph nodes were unremarkable. This means that we have some time to spend.
When things start to progress, I will not pursue an aggressive treatment plan. My old friend is in her mid-eighties in people years and I see nothing to be gained by making her existing time unpleasant. Quite the opposite. I want her to be loved and comfortable. When she starts experiencing uncontrolled pain, I will have her put to sleep. It is the same that I would want for me only we humans are not offered this final courtesy of love.
If you know the Wonder Dawg, you are lucky. I have been graced with her companionship during some of my most trying days and she always brought me comfort (not counting the days where she left some unidentified sample of her uncompleted digestive process - but for those, we forgive her). I have been blessed.
I will keep you informed as things go along, but if you are in the area and you want to stop in and scratch a couple of grey flecked ears, please do so.
Ta ta.
Of course, I don't believe any of that except the "fucked" part and that is associated with all three of us and anyone else struck down by a relentless disease.
My faithful companion of the last thirteen or so years was diagnosed last week with aggressive malignant melanoma. She had a growth on the top of her mouth that I noticed about a year ago but decided to ignore as long as she was eating well and not giving evidence of impairment (ok, just add that to the long list of why I'm going to hell). But a couple of weeks ago, she ate something crunchy while out at a cabin and her mouth started to bleed, so it was time for a vet visit.
At that time, we saw that in addition to the "puffball" like growth hanging down from the roof of her mouth, there was a new mass behind it that looked different. Surgery was scheduled for the next day. The lab result came a week later - malignant melanoma. Aggressive malignant melanoma.
Today, I took her back to the vet for a followup visit. He was pleasantly surprised at the appearance of her surgery site and very pleased that her lymph nodes were unremarkable. This means that we have some time to spend.
When things start to progress, I will not pursue an aggressive treatment plan. My old friend is in her mid-eighties in people years and I see nothing to be gained by making her existing time unpleasant. Quite the opposite. I want her to be loved and comfortable. When she starts experiencing uncontrolled pain, I will have her put to sleep. It is the same that I would want for me only we humans are not offered this final courtesy of love.
If you know the Wonder Dawg, you are lucky. I have been graced with her companionship during some of my most trying days and she always brought me comfort (not counting the days where she left some unidentified sample of her uncompleted digestive process - but for those, we forgive her). I have been blessed.
I will keep you informed as things go along, but if you are in the area and you want to stop in and scratch a couple of grey flecked ears, please do so.
Ta ta.