I’ve had this refrain, practically a mantra, that I’ve been repeating over and over. “When things get back to normal…”
When things get back to normal, I’ll restart my running/training plan with Cooper. When things get back to normal, I’ll finally sweep the melted snow and sand and ice out of the garage. When things get back to normal, I’ll buy real food at the grocery store, not just something I can stick in the microwave. When things get back to normal, I’ll answer all these emails. When things get back to normal…
I realize now: I need a new definition of “normal.”
Lucas is okay. Our most terrifying fear was that the cancer was in his lungs. That there was nothing we can do. Thankfully, that isn’t the case. Unfortunately, though, his leg is far gone and will be amputated. Even more unfortunate is that they think it may have spread already but that the cells are too small to show up on x-ray. Because that’s usually the case. We’re waiting on the biopsy result from the lesion in his ankle to determine if he can take part in a clinical trial they’re conducting with a chemo drug. If so, he’ll have the amputation, then he’ll have a series of four IV chemo treatments spaced three weeks apart. The particular drug that is part of this study has some GI side effects – like loss of appetite and nausea – but they prescribe a medication with it to hopefully counter those. By all accounts, pets tolerate chemo far better than we humans do. Having been through it, I wouldn’t wish it on my baby, that’s for sure.
He is in a lot of pain and struggling to hobble around. We can’t schedule the amputation soon enough. He’s on a whole pile of pain meds until then, but it’s no fun – he oscillates between woozy and disoriented to crying and pacing as they wear off. As far as the amputation, I’ll write about that separately when we have more nailed down. We’re just awaiting the biopsy results…
In the meantime, I desperately need to create a new normal. For self-preservation and sanity.
For the last week, we’ve been sitting and sleeping in the living room, mourning his pain and the situation. Staying close. Watching. Crying. Our reality is that Emmett has survived long past his initial prognosis, for which we are immeasurably grateful. I cherish every single second with him and find myself just watching him be him. But, we’re also waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s around the corner – we just don’t know which corner. And it’s terrifying.
Now, we’re in the same situation with Lucas. Waiting. Waiting to see what happens and when – not if – when he worsens.
While that is our reality, I realize it doesn’t have to be our normal. Today’s post on one of my favorite blogs, oh melvin (and yo jake), nailed it so perfectly. Please go read that post. I’ll wait…
Beautiful, right?
Each day, I move forward a little bit , I gain clarity and strength while still maintaining the sadness and fear. It’s odd how that is possible, to still be as frightened as day one but to feel as if I can absolutely see him through this. And then I realize, that is what love is. It can break you, in the same moment that it lifts you up.
I’m taking her words to heart. I need to move forward, not just in monitoring their health and scheduling their tests and administering their medication, but with life and love and all the joy that comes with being so intensely bound to my sweet dogs.
Before Wednesday, I had some fun posts lined up. After Wednesday, they felt frivolous. Well, I’m going to dust them off and post them because I need to continue moving. Sure, I’m going to let a lot of things slide until we have a plan to take care of Lukey’s leg. I’m working ahead on some client stuff so that I can take those two weeks after his amputation off to do everything I can to help him recover.
But, I need to move forward. I need a new normal of balancing living with grief. I need a new normal of going and doing despite the fear.
Thank you so, so much for all your kind comments, messages, and emails. I can’t even tell you how much they lifted our spirits as we navigated the murky waters of this last week. I’m so touched and beyond grateful to be a part of such a supportive community. Please know that if I could hug every single one of you, I totally would right this minute. I’m so grateful for you. Thank you.
Maggie, you and your family have been on my mind and in my heart. I stalked OMD’s and your personal FB page the other day, looking for an update. I’m less than an hour away, and if I can do anything at all for you guys, please let me know. Seriously. I hope the amputation is scheduled soon.
I admire you so much for your strength in taking care of both Emmitt and Lucas. We’re holding you in our hearts – if there’s anything we can do to help, please let us know.
I’ve been thinking of you all constantly and wish I was closer so I could help in anyway.
For me, I like to do ‘normal’ things, like dishes, laundry (not cleaning the house though, that’s just gross). It helps me feel like I have a sense of control and normalcy.
That post you referenced was beautiful, I can’t find words to respond to it, because it was just that beautiful.
Sending prayers for you and your precious furbaby. Believe me, I know what you mean. The concept of “normal” can change in a heartbeat. I have five rescued Treeing Walker Coonhounds (and three cats, also rescues). My senior girl turned 14 last month and I’ve been adjusting my way of thinking with regard to her, knowing that with the health issues she has from her age, she likely won’t be with us too much longer. I know where things stand with her, though, and we’ve learned to adjust to be able to deal with her aging. Which is why I was totally thrown for a major loop when one of the OTHER dogs got sick. My precious deaf hound girl, Ran, was happy and healthy and full of energy and mischief. Until the end of December, when she suddenly stopped eating for me and there was obviously something wrong. The first day she didn’t eat I didn’t think too much about it. After all, just like with people, dogs sometimes just have a day when they just aren’t hungry. Near Year’s Eve, however, I started to worry. To top it off, after going to the same vet for over 30 years, we were without a regular vet. I had already more or less picked one to try, but hadn’t had any of the furbabies there – not even for yearly shots.
With the holiday, too, I knew only the emergency vet would even be open. So, I managed to coax Ran to eat some canned dog food I had doctored up. On January 2nd, I took her to the vet. The test for pancreatitus came back positive, but more importantly, her blood work showed major problems.Her platelets should have been in the 150-300 range (in thousands) but was a mere 9. Her red cells were low and white cells high. The vet prescribed some medicine to treat the pancreatitus and wanted to retest the blood after she finished that. Ran felt better already that day, but she’s had a number of bad days since. No more pancreatitis, but it took us almost two months to get her platelet count into the normal range,and her other blood counts are better, but not where they should be.
She has an autoimmune disorder, which I can only tell people is like a human having Lupus. Despite improvements in her blood, last Thursday was an especially bad day and I was certain I’d have no choice but have her humanely euthanized. I cried half the day, but by afternoon she was doing somewhat better. Friday morning she was bad – again. I took her to the vet that afternoon and they ran her blood work, which was actually improved, and gave her some fluids. She’s doing better and I’m finally able to get her to drink enough water, but she’s having issues with her bottom jaw, which makes eating dry kibble or drinking water difficult. She’s on canned food and has had to learn how to drink with her jaw issue.
I didn’t want her having to walk up the flight of 13 steps to my bedroom, so I’ve spent the past week sleeping on the couch in my “TV/dog” room. Two of the other dogs have been sleeping on the couch in the living room and the other two have been sleeping in their crates in the same room as Ran and me. I know she’ll never be completely back to normal and that the condition will likely take years off her life. I’m willing to deal with our new “normal”. I’m sure that will change again and again as time goes by. Plus, I still have my senior girl, Suki, to deal with and three other dogs and three cats who – fortunately – have no health issues, but one of the cats is 10 and I’m sure will be showing issues from his age before long.
We do what we need to – and can – for our furbabies. Again, sending prayers for your Cooper.
Finding a new normal is so difficult but you are right, so necessary. All thoughts of love and light and peace are coming your way from us. Snuggle that herd. They love you soooo much!
Those words are very beautiful, and I’m so glad they’ve brought you comfort and are helping you through this. Moving forward is all we can really do when we’re faced with these things, isn’t it? You and John both strike me as strong people and I know you’ll help each other, and the dogs, through this.
I think sharing those fun posts is the right thing to do. It’s the best way not to let the fear and worry consume you. There will be plenty of that.
I’m glad there is some hope that Lucas can get through this, and you know that we are all pulling for him.
Maggie, I’m so sorry for what you are going through. The waiting and the not knowing tends to paralyze me – time periods when I was going through hard times (my mom’s cancer, the loss of both my previous dogs within ten days) are just a blur to me looking back. Your love and devotion to all of your animals shines so bright, and they are lucky to be yours. Make sure you are being just as gentle with yourself – microwave food and sleeping on the sofa is fine, but do try to step away, grab coffee with a friend and allow yourself to smile and laugh. I’ll be keeping you and your wonderful boys in my thoughts.
We’re keeping all of you in our thoughts and prayers. I think Lara had some good advice above to make sure to also take good care of yourself and find those moments between the worrying and sorrow to find peace and maybe even a smile. I know it’s tough when Lucas is in so much pain, it’s hard to not be consumed by it. Hang in there…one day at a time.
So sorry for what you are going through..we’re sending hugs and love your way though!
*Hugs & Wags* Dante and Ziva <3 <3
Maggie, I think of you several times a day—–REALLY. This is hard and I pray for your strength. There are no words, well I guess there is, but you are better with words than I am. Please know that others share your pain. My Lilly, who is 19 years old, is doing fine for now. However, we just don’t know what that cancer is doing inside, do we? Love hurts. Please know that we on this blog care for you and your family. I will continue to pray.
so so sorry to hear about the cancer. Wishing you and your family peace and strength at this time.
I’m so sorry about your situation. Thinking of you and sending my positive thoughts for your family.