Why am I writing this?

I have known many, many people who have had their dogs die from cancer. In many cases, the cancer was too far advanced to treat. Of those who did treat, you don't know the details of what they went through. It sounds quite simple when summarized with 'we went though chemo and he lived 2 years'. There is a whole lot more emotion and decisions to be made. Treatment is not always simple.

This blog is my own personal experience. Some days are filled with frustration, others are filled with laughter. If anyone is offended, I can't apologize for my emotions. I typed what I felt at the time. It does not mean I feel the same today. If you want clarification, just ask. No matter my frustrations, I know my vet and oncologist are doing a fantastic job of caring for Arri. He just is not co-operating by being a 'typical' case.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

March 20, 2012

I am picking up Arri at 12:00.  Missed him a lot last night.  Didn’t sleep well without him in bed with me. 

Arri was very drugged when I picked him up.  They had given him a pain injection and it must have been strong.  He didn’t seem to notice that I was there.  I had 8 week old Oregon with me.  He sat nice and calm but then had to say hi to his buddy.  Arri didn’t snap or growl – yep, the drugs were strong. 

His whole leg, from knee down was wrapped in bandages.  Even his foot.  Because the irradiated skin takes longer to heal, the wound needs to be kept covered for 5 – 7 days.  They even gave me a saline bag, cut at the top and threaded with gauze to slip over the foot if the ground is wet.  The bandage has to stay dry.  I was warned that he would have to pee a lot over the next 24 hours.  They had him on IV fluids right up to an hour before I arrived.  They did not have any results from the biopsy yet.  They will call.  He is on pain medication and we are to have the bandage removed by them or my own vet.  I think I will skip that lovely drive this time and call Dr. Mike.

As we walked out to the car, I decided to toilet Arri one more time.  That was when I realized he looked like a white water buffalo.  He was SOOOO bloated from the IV.  Could it be that they were trying to distract him from the pain in his leg so they made him feel like a beached whale?   It looks like we will be stopping at all the rest stops on the way home.

The drive home was stressful.  Arri was in distress of some unknown kind most of the ride home.  His breathing was very labored.  He was whining and wheezing a lot.  I hated hearing it but then when he would relax a little, I would be nervous that he stopped breathing altogether.  The wheezing is from intubation.  His throat is raw.  Thankfully, Oregon understood that now was not the time to bark his head off while in his kennel in the car. 

The rest of the evening was uneventful.  As much as it must have pained him, I did have to smile when he tried to bark when Tim came home from work.  He was still so hoarse, his bark was pitiful.

As far as what happens next?  Don’t have a clue.  The bandage comes off on Monday.  He has dissolvable sutures in so pending no infection; we do not need to go back to the oncologist for a few months unless the biopsy results show a need to.

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