Hoppy Woo Year!

I, for one, am not sorry to see 2011 fade into the blurry past.  As a year, it got the dubious distinction of being The Absolute Worst Year Ever.  (Although, now that I think about it, our run of crappy luck started clear back in the summer of 2010.)  Digressions aside, though, I think I would rather focus on what remains now that the year is over.

First off, I honestly didn’t think I would still have Rio with me this far (4 years and 7 months) into the cancer drama.  When we were facing the amputation this past January, our oncologist told us that Rio would have probably just a few weeks to a couple of months without the surgery.  When the doctor discovered the metastasis in August, we were given a similar time frame for her survival.   We are now looking at our 11 month ampuversary — despite the mets in her spleen and her lymph nodes.  With the added “bonus” of Cushings Disease, there is an average of a two-year survival rate post-diagnosis.  With all of this, Rio continues to buck the odds, and although I can see that her health is definitely on the wane, she continues to be the happy, beautiful girl she’s always been (although a lot less energetic).

Despite the difficulties of this past year, I still feel like it has also been a gift.  I have had the time I needed to come to terms with the inevitability of life and the swiftness of it’s passing.  I have also been given the opportunity (and the urgency) to make some treasured memories with my precious girl.  Living with the clock ticking has given me the impetus to do things now rather than pretending I have all the time in the world.  I have battled my own inner demons through this experience, and although the war is not yet won, I feel as if I have made some definite inroads.  So far, I have survived this blasted rollercoaster, and despite all the times I’ve begged to be let off this ride, I’m still not quite ready for it to end.

For now, we still have today, and dammit, it’s gonna be a great day!  And if we get tomorrow, then we’ve won the lottery!  (And if we do win the lottery, color me delirious!)

HOPPY WOO YEAR!!!

Hoppy howlidaze, my Tripawds pals!

 

 

Feeeeeed meeeeeeee!!!

I mentioned in my last post, that we’d started feeding Rio 4 times a day as a means to compensate for slower processing in the ol’ puppy pooper.  Between that and the (almost) cup of pumpkin a day, it seems to be helping — we’ve not had any more vomiting for several weeks, and she’s struggling less when she goes #2!  That’s the good news…  The bad news is….   I have created a monster.  She’s decided that 4 meals a days isn’t nearly enough, and is lobbying hard for additional portions.   She is eating us out of house and home.  She doesn’t seem to be gaining any weight with all the additional meals which is a little troublesome, and I can definitely feel the “bad guy” in the V between her stomach and her hip, but looking at this from a purely “happy in the moment” point of view (which, I’ll admit is pretty rare), she is doing really good.  Maybe even great.  She’s been funny and playful and spirited, and yes, demanding, these last couple of weeks.   And so, I say, if the appetite is good, and she wants to eat, I will feed her.  I love this monster!!!

Keep it down. Can't you people see I'm trying to sleep.

 

Cancer sucks!

You can think you’re totally prepared for bad news, know exactly what the doctor is going to tell you, psych yourself up to hear the absolute worst news, and still be stunned to hear it.  I think it’s because somewhere deep inside you’re still hoping that there will be a miracle.  Somehow, in an amazing turn of events you become the lucky winner of the lottery, the amazed and grateful recipient of the ultimate jackpot!!!!  And you smile and tearfully accept the prize, because you know there was never anyone so deserving of a miracle as your beautiful Rio.

But this was not my lucky day…. nor was it hers….  Today, the doctor told us that in the span of four weeks, while taking the Kinavet (our “last ditch effort” drug), the tumor in her lymph node has doubled in size.  Soon it will be creating pressure on her colon.  It could eventually become blocked, leading to a very rapid decline in her internal functions.  The other possibility is that the mast cell could degranulate, causing something very similar to anaphylactic shock.

I’m trying so, SO very hard to focus on things like the fact that we’ve had four and a half years together since she was first diagnosed.  My beautiful Rio and I have had some wonderful adventures together, and we still have time for a few more (if we hurry).  Like the fact that she’s a fighter, and she hasn’t quit yet.  Like the fact that she doesn’t know she’s sick, and she’s not in pain.  But my heart is breaking because I know that soon, way too soon, the thing I love the most in life will be gone.  And there’s not a damn thing I can do to change that.  So, I’m gonna have myself a good cry and several glasses of wine, and tomorrow, I’m gonna see if I can’t find in myself a little more of Rio’s strength and courage….