The past few weeks careened past us leaving everything in their wake, everything except one question: What are we going to do?
We met with the oncologist. He was wonderful, kind, thorough, honest. He presented us with the two options we already knew. Surgery plus radiation therapy (every day for three weeks), which would push the cancer into remission. Or amputation.
We have had many long, sleepless nights trying to figure out the right decision. We didn’t come to this lightly, but we have decided to amputate. It gives Emmett the chance to have a long, happy, cancer-free life. There will be an adjustment period for him while he relearns how to go about his day, but the surgeon said that since he’s so young, so healthy, and so strong, he should be fine in 2 to 3 weeks following the surgery.
Though we came to the decision yesterday, we decided to wait until Monday to call and schedule the appointment. We just aren’t ready to start the count-down yet. I’m also still harboring a secret hope that the oncologist will call us and say, “Wait! We discovered a new treatment! He’ll be cancer-free with four legs with our new protocol!” Or, even better, I hope that the vet’s office will call us in a panic, “Wait! We mixed up the results! It’s nothing after all! HAHAHA! Isn’t that great?”
I know that’s not going to happen. So in the meantime, we’re trying to stay positive and use humor to cope with the devastation of putting our darling Emmett through what is sure to be a hellacious month.