Jersey lay sprawled out on one of her beds in our front room. The window was cracked so she could get some fresh air. The sun was out and the view onto the street was unchaged. People still walked their dogs by our house. Cars still drove up and down the street. Jersey, who is usually so attentive to such mundane things was oblivious. She was tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. She had a pretty scared, vacant look in her eyes. She was obviously distressed and was beginning to worry us. We weren't sure what was going on and didn't know what to do
Prednisone is a Corticosteriod which is supposed to be an anti-inflamatory to reduce swelling and therefore reduce pain. It had been prescribed for Jersey along with her monthly dose of Lomustine. The Lomustine is orally administered and is supposed to provide an initial blast which aggressively attacks the cancer cells. Its half life is very short and is supposed to be out of her system within 48 hours. The Prednisone is given to continue working on the cells and reduce the effect they have on her lymph system.
The Lomustine can be nasty. One is not supposed to let the dog lick you. You have to dispose of whatever poop there is wearing rubber gloves and a mask. Then your supposed to put the poop in a sealed plastic bag, label it hazardous material and get rid of it carefully. The dog is also supposed to be kept apart from everyone, other dogs included. The medication is very toxic and is harmful to animals and humans.
It's hard to watch her struggle with its effects. However, it will help defeat the cancer and can potentially lead to remission.
The Prednisone she is to take with it is another story. It's not the same kind of steriod a body builder would take. It's not a growth hormone so it's supposed to be safe and have minimal side effects. I don't think that's true.
It's long term effect is that it can destroy the kidneys and the liver. It will have a deliterious effect on an otherwise healthy Adrenal gland which produces Cortisol, an essential chemical produced by the body to keep internal systems in check. The Prednisone tricks the Adrenals into thinking it doesn't have to produce any more Cortisol and will eventually go dormant. I'm not sure what the reasoning is to burn out an essential, otherwise healthy gland. All I know is it can be a dangerous medication.
In Jersey's case, it wasn't having the typical result. She was looking at us like she was pleading for help. She didn't know what was going on or why she felt so bad. The use of her rear legs was getting worse and worse such that she had gotten to the point she had much difficulty trying to walk. Her thirst had increased which increased her water intake which had led to accidents in the house. She had never had these before. This was a major reason I began carrying her outside. Every two to three hours she had to pee. the only way she could get out was with assistance from me.
It also caused her to be ravenous. This trim, muscular dog was all of a sudden getting fat which meant it was more weight for her joints to handle and it meant she was getting heavier and heavier. It was getting harder and harder to lift her up and carry her.
We decided the side effects were were almost more dangerous than the cancer and as instructed by the vet, began to taper her dosage. Abruptly stopping the medication can cause shock. The withdrawal symptoms in humans can be terrible, imagine what it must be like for a dog.
Bottom line is, she is now at a lower, maintenace level of the drug. It is now easier for her to get upAfter being carried down the stairs, she can now walk back into the house. It tires her out but she can do it. Her personallity has returned, the spirit is back in her eyes and she's smiling again. Her appetite is also under control and she seems to love being present. The Prednisone seemed to transport her to a terrible place. Now, she's happy to be back where she belongs, with her family
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Unleased and unbound
Last night, I posted two pictures of Jersey. One from a few years ago, the other more recent.
The top one was taken at Sandy Point State park outside of Annapolis, Maryland. We had recently moved across the country from our home in Aurora, Colorado. In Aurora, there was the most wonderful off leash dog park ever. It's within the confines of Cherry Creek State Park and it is truly a doggy Disneyland. It is a HUGE expanse of land with miles of wide open spaces, trails, streams, forests, arroyos and lots of friendly dogs. It is so big it never looks or feels crowded and it wasn't too far from our house. When there was snow on the ground and Jersey and I had the place to ourselves, I would snowshoe way into the back of beyond. Jersey would lead the way and we would explore the most out of the way places. In the spring and summer the creek that ran through it would be swollen with water, overflowing the bank, full from the melting snow. Jersey loved nothing better than running up it, through it, across it and drinking it. I have some pictures of us somewhere that I'll post when I find them.
After we moved and after a lot of research, I was very dismayed to find there was nothing even remotely like it where a dog could freely run and roam. The closest I could find were some Maryland State Parks that had relaxed rules about allowing dogs, on leash, in the off season from Labor Day through Memorial Day. The best one I could find, close to water with open space and woods to explore was Sandy Point State Park.
Sandy Point is on the Chesapeake Bay and is bordered on one side by the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. It's only 28 miles from our house and is an easy drive. Really it's only easy when it's not rush hour or when it's not a friday afternoon during the summer months when traffic stretches for miles with cars full of people escaping to Ocean City.
It's one of three places I have found within close proximity of our home where I can covertly let both dogs off leash and allow them to run to their hearts content.
The picture was taken a couple of months after we arrived in Maryland. Jersey finally had some space and a large body of water within which she could run, wade and explore. She also discovered she likde to eat jellyfish. Not the dangerous red tentacles or guts but the translucent tops which would wash up on the beach. I guess for a dog, they're a delicacy.
It's a picture of her making a decision about where she should go next. Should she dig a hole in the wet sand at waters edge? Should she run to the end of the beach and explore the jetty? Should she try to find some deer or other critters in the woods and run after them?
Sadly, they are all memories for her now. She's sad she can't run, she's sad she can't snuffle in the water by the jetty and look for whatever it was that caught her attention. She's sad she can't chase the seagulls that would gather in flocks at waters edge. I think she dreams of it though. She'll be sleeping and she'll twitch and seem be running.
These things which she can't do anymore is the biggest reason I am so thankful we took her to sit on the beach in the sun a couple of weeks ago. I posted a picture from that day. She could walk much easier than she can now. It was the day she was determined to walk down the beach to get to the jetty. After that visit, she's had a steady decline in her mobility.
I think though she is determined to get back there. I can see it in her eyes and feel it in her spirit everytime I pick her up to carry her outside. That's why I gladly walk up and down the stairs with her even though she's 80 lbs and it's destroying my wrists, arms and now my knees. She wants to run and dig and explore with the same unbridled joy which I'm convinced still courses through her system.
You go girl! We're going to make it happen!
The top one was taken at Sandy Point State park outside of Annapolis, Maryland. We had recently moved across the country from our home in Aurora, Colorado. In Aurora, there was the most wonderful off leash dog park ever. It's within the confines of Cherry Creek State Park and it is truly a doggy Disneyland. It is a HUGE expanse of land with miles of wide open spaces, trails, streams, forests, arroyos and lots of friendly dogs. It is so big it never looks or feels crowded and it wasn't too far from our house. When there was snow on the ground and Jersey and I had the place to ourselves, I would snowshoe way into the back of beyond. Jersey would lead the way and we would explore the most out of the way places. In the spring and summer the creek that ran through it would be swollen with water, overflowing the bank, full from the melting snow. Jersey loved nothing better than running up it, through it, across it and drinking it. I have some pictures of us somewhere that I'll post when I find them.
After we moved and after a lot of research, I was very dismayed to find there was nothing even remotely like it where a dog could freely run and roam. The closest I could find were some Maryland State Parks that had relaxed rules about allowing dogs, on leash, in the off season from Labor Day through Memorial Day. The best one I could find, close to water with open space and woods to explore was Sandy Point State Park.
Sandy Point is on the Chesapeake Bay and is bordered on one side by the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. It's only 28 miles from our house and is an easy drive. Really it's only easy when it's not rush hour or when it's not a friday afternoon during the summer months when traffic stretches for miles with cars full of people escaping to Ocean City.
It's one of three places I have found within close proximity of our home where I can covertly let both dogs off leash and allow them to run to their hearts content.
The picture was taken a couple of months after we arrived in Maryland. Jersey finally had some space and a large body of water within which she could run, wade and explore. She also discovered she likde to eat jellyfish. Not the dangerous red tentacles or guts but the translucent tops which would wash up on the beach. I guess for a dog, they're a delicacy.
It's a picture of her making a decision about where she should go next. Should she dig a hole in the wet sand at waters edge? Should she run to the end of the beach and explore the jetty? Should she try to find some deer or other critters in the woods and run after them?
Sadly, they are all memories for her now. She's sad she can't run, she's sad she can't snuffle in the water by the jetty and look for whatever it was that caught her attention. She's sad she can't chase the seagulls that would gather in flocks at waters edge. I think she dreams of it though. She'll be sleeping and she'll twitch and seem be running.
These things which she can't do anymore is the biggest reason I am so thankful we took her to sit on the beach in the sun a couple of weeks ago. I posted a picture from that day. She could walk much easier than she can now. It was the day she was determined to walk down the beach to get to the jetty. After that visit, she's had a steady decline in her mobility.
I think though she is determined to get back there. I can see it in her eyes and feel it in her spirit everytime I pick her up to carry her outside. That's why I gladly walk up and down the stairs with her even though she's 80 lbs and it's destroying my wrists, arms and now my knees. She wants to run and dig and explore with the same unbridled joy which I'm convinced still courses through her system.
You go girl! We're going to make it happen!
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Wrist braces and tennis elbow
I carry Jersey up and down the stairs. For the last couple of weeks, ever since I posted about my YAWP, she hasn't been able to navigate the stairs to get to the back yard for her daily "constituionals." She also can't make it to her favorite spots in the house. For some unkown reasons her back legs seemed to have lost the strength they once had. She can stand but then she tends to wobble when a strong enough wind blows; she can push herself up to sit. When she's determined enough she can haltingly walk around. It's almost like she thinks to herself " I can do this." and she makes her way through the sliding doors in the basement and lays down, breathing heavy and tired.
She also used to stand while eating. Though it's only been a couple of weeks, time seems to have s-l-o-w-e-d down and I forget when milestones were reached. I think it was a couple of weeks ago when she stood over her bowl eating for the last time. Our goal is to try and help her build up enough strength to be able to do it again.
Another reason to help her get stronger is that carrying her around is starting to beat me up. I now have to wear a wrist brace and tennis elbow support bandage to get her around. Otherwise, my forearms ache and my wrist hyper extends backwards in ways it was not meant to move. It's not really any different than doing a deadlift with weights in the gym. Pushing 700 lb. motorcycles around while I worked for Harley Davidson was easier than busting a gut trying to lift her up. Going down the stairs is OK. I use momentum and gravity to get where we are going. Coming back up is another story. I can't get momentum and gravity is fighting me. I've got 12 stairs up to our deck so I can get her back into the kitchen. There are 14 stairs from the basement to the first floor. No matter which way I go, my arms always end up throbbing and my wrist snaps, crackles and pops. I also end up falling about and sucking for air after I put her down. It's quite the sight to see. I gently place her on one of her beds while telling her she's a good girl. Then, I have to stand back up. If Alexa isn't there to help me, I have to grab at the couch or wall or push myself up in order to stand up. I haven't felt pain in my chest (thank God) but I almost hyper ventilate from breathing so hard. I end up pacing around, hands on hips gasping for air. I sort of look like a sprinter who has just broken the four minute mile mark. Eventually, I get back to normal only to have to start the process again.
It wouldn't be so bad if it was a hard workout and I was losing weight and building muscle. It's more like an explosive burst several times a day and doesn't accomplish anything for me physically other than make me feel crippled.
Ah, the things we do. I made a committment to her. I told her I would always be there if she needed me to carry her. Though I end up wearing sprints and braces, I do it happily and with a grateful heart. She's still with us and it's one small way I can help her with the fight of her life. I can do it as long as it takes. I will do it as long as it takes.
She also used to stand while eating. Though it's only been a couple of weeks, time seems to have s-l-o-w-e-d down and I forget when milestones were reached. I think it was a couple of weeks ago when she stood over her bowl eating for the last time. Our goal is to try and help her build up enough strength to be able to do it again.
Another reason to help her get stronger is that carrying her around is starting to beat me up. I now have to wear a wrist brace and tennis elbow support bandage to get her around. Otherwise, my forearms ache and my wrist hyper extends backwards in ways it was not meant to move. It's not really any different than doing a deadlift with weights in the gym. Pushing 700 lb. motorcycles around while I worked for Harley Davidson was easier than busting a gut trying to lift her up. Going down the stairs is OK. I use momentum and gravity to get where we are going. Coming back up is another story. I can't get momentum and gravity is fighting me. I've got 12 stairs up to our deck so I can get her back into the kitchen. There are 14 stairs from the basement to the first floor. No matter which way I go, my arms always end up throbbing and my wrist snaps, crackles and pops. I also end up falling about and sucking for air after I put her down. It's quite the sight to see. I gently place her on one of her beds while telling her she's a good girl. Then, I have to stand back up. If Alexa isn't there to help me, I have to grab at the couch or wall or push myself up in order to stand up. I haven't felt pain in my chest (thank God) but I almost hyper ventilate from breathing so hard. I end up pacing around, hands on hips gasping for air. I sort of look like a sprinter who has just broken the four minute mile mark. Eventually, I get back to normal only to have to start the process again.
It wouldn't be so bad if it was a hard workout and I was losing weight and building muscle. It's more like an explosive burst several times a day and doesn't accomplish anything for me physically other than make me feel crippled.
Ah, the things we do. I made a committment to her. I told her I would always be there if she needed me to carry her. Though I end up wearing sprints and braces, I do it happily and with a grateful heart. She's still with us and it's one small way I can help her with the fight of her life. I can do it as long as it takes. I will do it as long as it takes.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Everyday life equals routine
I think we have moved into the routine mode and are getting used to our "new normal." That's a good thing. Dogs are such creatures of routine. They have things they like to do at the same time everyday. Jersey's was licking me in the face to get up between 4:30-5:00 in the morning; eating breakfast at about 5:30, going back to sleep in her bedroom (is it overkill that the spare bedroom became her's? She moved in and wouldn't move out for all the dog treats in the world.) Greeting me at the door when I came home for lunch, getting cold cut snacks when I would make a sandwich for lunch, etc., etc. Now her routine involves being carried outside for her morning "ablutions," me holding the bowl for her while she eats breakfast (she has to eat lying down since she can't stand up.) Being carried out for her noon time constitutional, and so on.
It's painful to see this once vital, spirit filled, powerful dog, crippled by this disease. Not to worry though she is learning to accept it. We are learning to accept it. People think we don't have her best interests in mind. They feel we are pronlonging suffering. We cannot and will not take that final step while her gentle, powerful spirit is still present, while she is still engaged in everything going on around her, while she still has such a hearty appetite, while she still so obvioulsy wants to stick around. We'll know when it's time, she'll let us know. In the meantime, while she still hungrily smells the smells outside, while she still loves to follow the sun, while she still barks at people in the street, while she still excitedly whimpers when our neighborhood fox skips by the backyard, when she still wants to go after the deer she sees in the woods, while she still licks my face in what seems like gratitude and thanks for all we're doing; she's not going anywhere except deeper into our hearts.
It's painful to see this once vital, spirit filled, powerful dog, crippled by this disease. Not to worry though she is learning to accept it. We are learning to accept it. People think we don't have her best interests in mind. They feel we are pronlonging suffering. We cannot and will not take that final step while her gentle, powerful spirit is still present, while she is still engaged in everything going on around her, while she still has such a hearty appetite, while she still so obvioulsy wants to stick around. We'll know when it's time, she'll let us know. In the meantime, while she still hungrily smells the smells outside, while she still loves to follow the sun, while she still barks at people in the street, while she still excitedly whimpers when our neighborhood fox skips by the backyard, when she still wants to go after the deer she sees in the woods, while she still licks my face in what seems like gratitude and thanks for all we're doing; she's not going anywhere except deeper into our hearts.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Two weeks
It was two weeks ago today that Jersey got her first dose of Chemo. 14 days. When I was growing up my family used to go on vacation for two weeks each year. Two weeks is how long each pay period is. Now, I measure those weeks by watching Jersey's progress. Those vactions seemed to fly by. Before I knew it we were headed home. Generally each week at work goes fairly quickly. These past two weeks, in comparison, have seemed interminable.
Waking up each morning to see how she's doing makes for some long nights; getting up each day at 5 am to prepare her breakfast makes for long days; the worry involved makes for a long 24 hours. The rapid switch between optimism and despair takes a toll on one's emotional state Sometimes it doesn't seem that those minutes and hours will ever add up. Today, I've limped into Friday not quite broken but more over extended much like trying to stretch a small rubber band around a big half eaten bag of Fritos.
I find it amazing though how resilient we are. Each time I reach that breaking point, something seems to happen which provides that buoying moment and allows me to continue bobbing along on the surface. That's how its been these last two weeks.
Jersey seems to have responded to the Chemo protocol. She does have her moments when she gets depressed and seems heartbreakingly sad. There are other times when her spirit shoots out of her like beams of light from her eyes. She eats every meal with gusto, she enjoys being outside, she generally sleeps soundly.
She also has her moments. She turns away from us, she gets humiliated when she has an accident in the house, her rear end drops to the ground when she gets exhausted trying to walk.
When I have to measure it out, I think the good outweighs the bad. She's still here; not thriving but still adjusting to her new circumstances and appearing to accept them. I'm still here battered and beat up but still hopeful that today will be the day of success. The two weeks is over. We've made it so far. I'm proud of us.
Waking up each morning to see how she's doing makes for some long nights; getting up each day at 5 am to prepare her breakfast makes for long days; the worry involved makes for a long 24 hours. The rapid switch between optimism and despair takes a toll on one's emotional state Sometimes it doesn't seem that those minutes and hours will ever add up. Today, I've limped into Friday not quite broken but more over extended much like trying to stretch a small rubber band around a big half eaten bag of Fritos.
I find it amazing though how resilient we are. Each time I reach that breaking point, something seems to happen which provides that buoying moment and allows me to continue bobbing along on the surface. That's how its been these last two weeks.
Jersey seems to have responded to the Chemo protocol. She does have her moments when she gets depressed and seems heartbreakingly sad. There are other times when her spirit shoots out of her like beams of light from her eyes. She eats every meal with gusto, she enjoys being outside, she generally sleeps soundly.
She also has her moments. She turns away from us, she gets humiliated when she has an accident in the house, her rear end drops to the ground when she gets exhausted trying to walk.
When I have to measure it out, I think the good outweighs the bad. She's still here; not thriving but still adjusting to her new circumstances and appearing to accept them. I'm still here battered and beat up but still hopeful that today will be the day of success. The two weeks is over. We've made it so far. I'm proud of us.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
No Options? Phooey on that!
I decided to call the vet the other day to ask about what might be going on with Jersey's back legs. Her front left leg had already gone lame. I had taken her to get it X-rayed twice. Neither time showed anything out of the ordinary. The first time it was done, the vets palpated it - they bent it, twisted it, over extended it, over flexed it. She didn't have any reaction. The second time, Jersey sharply looked at the vet when the doctor felt around the elbow. Even still, it wasn't a sharp reaction. As a result of the X-rays and the examination, the vet wasn't sure what was going on. It could be any number of things; a soft tissue bruise, possibly something going on in her shoulder or even a tumor which wasn't yet detectable. In any event, Jersey and I went home with anti-inflamatories in our pocket and tried to watch out for any over exertion so she wouldn't hurt it even more.
During the struggle of last weekend was when Alexa and I noticed she seemed to be having trouble with her back legs. It seemed as if Jersey was reluctant to stand up or walk. We chalked it up to feeling punky.
On Monday, she showed some marked improvement. She was able to get up and take halting steps. She stood over her food to eat and with help, she was able to get into the backyard to get some fresh air and soak in the sun. It was also an excuse for her to have a good long pee and a poop. She looked happy and relieved to be up and around. Her appetite was good, her attitude was great, she was engaged and seemed content. My only concern was her hopping about on her stiff rear legs.
I made the call to the vet on Tuesday to see what might be causing it. I also asked if there was anything he could take to help manage us manage this latest development. His response was what we had come to expect: keep her on the Prednisone. It's the strongest anti-inflamatory available for her and would also be able to mitigate any pain she might have. He also told me there was nothing left he could do and expect her to quickly deteriorate.
Ah! I took it as a gauntlet being thrown down. There was nothing left to do medically except to keep her comfortable which I took to mean that now, it's totally up to us. We have nothing to lose.
I think I mentioned in an earlier post that when it comes to her food, our mantra is "meat, meat meat!" Based on all the research I had done, it seemed that the most effective approach to cancer was related to diet. A high protein, no grain, no carb diet matches the diet dogs naturally have. All the by products, fillers and preservatives in prepared dog food tend to have an effect on its overall nutritional value. Our option was to switch to a "Raw" diet. A raw diet is all uncooked, unprocessed meats, vegetables and some fruits. For example, a raw chicken diet is comprised of meat, gizzard, hearts, necks, intestines,etc and all the other parts that we would ordinarily cast off. All that stuff is extremely beneficial to dogs. Lack of grains and proteins means there is no added sugar or starches which actually feed cancer cells. Ultimately it could arrest the spread of cancer cells and make them die. If they have nothing to eat...
Bottom line is with the raw diet, the blast of chemo she gets once a month and a regular, small dose of Prednisone, Jersey is responding. She also gets sardines and fish oil mixed in with her diet. Not only do they taste good to her, their loaded with essential oils and omega3's which are extremely benefical for her. There's also a splash of unpastuerized goats milk thrown in. It's also supposed to be great for her.
Needless to say, I think she is improving. She is walking up stairs, she is able to get outside, she can jump on the couch, her appetite is excellent and she seems to be doing well On the other hand, that's how she has been over the last few days. Who knows what she'll be like later today or tomorrow. Those days can take care of themselves. All I know is that right now, she seems to be A-OK.
I know she'll never be the way she used to be - able to run free, able to explore the beach and the forest, jump into and out of the car to follow the stream up into the hills. For now though, I'm thankful and grateful she is still here and that all we are doing seems to be helping. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. At this moment, her eyes are sparkling and she's smiling.
During the struggle of last weekend was when Alexa and I noticed she seemed to be having trouble with her back legs. It seemed as if Jersey was reluctant to stand up or walk. We chalked it up to feeling punky.
On Monday, she showed some marked improvement. She was able to get up and take halting steps. She stood over her food to eat and with help, she was able to get into the backyard to get some fresh air and soak in the sun. It was also an excuse for her to have a good long pee and a poop. She looked happy and relieved to be up and around. Her appetite was good, her attitude was great, she was engaged and seemed content. My only concern was her hopping about on her stiff rear legs.
I made the call to the vet on Tuesday to see what might be causing it. I also asked if there was anything he could take to help manage us manage this latest development. His response was what we had come to expect: keep her on the Prednisone. It's the strongest anti-inflamatory available for her and would also be able to mitigate any pain she might have. He also told me there was nothing left he could do and expect her to quickly deteriorate.
Ah! I took it as a gauntlet being thrown down. There was nothing left to do medically except to keep her comfortable which I took to mean that now, it's totally up to us. We have nothing to lose.
I think I mentioned in an earlier post that when it comes to her food, our mantra is "meat, meat meat!" Based on all the research I had done, it seemed that the most effective approach to cancer was related to diet. A high protein, no grain, no carb diet matches the diet dogs naturally have. All the by products, fillers and preservatives in prepared dog food tend to have an effect on its overall nutritional value. Our option was to switch to a "Raw" diet. A raw diet is all uncooked, unprocessed meats, vegetables and some fruits. For example, a raw chicken diet is comprised of meat, gizzard, hearts, necks, intestines,etc and all the other parts that we would ordinarily cast off. All that stuff is extremely beneficial to dogs. Lack of grains and proteins means there is no added sugar or starches which actually feed cancer cells. Ultimately it could arrest the spread of cancer cells and make them die. If they have nothing to eat...
Bottom line is with the raw diet, the blast of chemo she gets once a month and a regular, small dose of Prednisone, Jersey is responding. She also gets sardines and fish oil mixed in with her diet. Not only do they taste good to her, their loaded with essential oils and omega3's which are extremely benefical for her. There's also a splash of unpastuerized goats milk thrown in. It's also supposed to be great for her.
Needless to say, I think she is improving. She is walking up stairs, she is able to get outside, she can jump on the couch, her appetite is excellent and she seems to be doing well On the other hand, that's how she has been over the last few days. Who knows what she'll be like later today or tomorrow. Those days can take care of themselves. All I know is that right now, she seems to be A-OK.
I know she'll never be the way she used to be - able to run free, able to explore the beach and the forest, jump into and out of the car to follow the stream up into the hills. For now though, I'm thankful and grateful she is still here and that all we are doing seems to be helping. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. At this moment, her eyes are sparkling and she's smiling.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
My heroes
I'm not the only one who loves my dog (or cat.) Today, this is for: Char and Dixie, Sheila and Mishka, Mary Kay and Annie, Cindy and Sadie, Sandy and Kevin and Lucy, Chuck and Pete, George and his dogs, Bill and Fiona and Splinter and Fenway, Julie and Jonathan and their dogs, Judi and Clancy Fancy Pants, Mike and Tabitha and their Shelties, Deb and all her dogs, Ken and his dog, Bill and his cat Max, Sandra and her dog, Christine and Finn, Eileen and her cat Casey Jones da Man, Artie and Cindi and their dogs and anyone else I missed. You all rock and would do the same thing I'm doing for Jersey.
Jersey's got an excellent raw diet, comfortable beds and pillows, lots of water, lots of hugs, a great backyard for laying out in the fresh air, a deck she can lay on to survey her world, a wonderful sister in Tellie, a momma who loves her, Someone to haul her around and over 70 people who are thinking about her. She's got it all. How can she not get better?
Hey, to those I did miss let us know who your dog or cat is. Post their names in comments below or in Jerseys Place on Facebook. Come on in to Jerseys Place where pets is pets, people is people and good vibrations abound.
Jersey's got an excellent raw diet, comfortable beds and pillows, lots of water, lots of hugs, a great backyard for laying out in the fresh air, a deck she can lay on to survey her world, a wonderful sister in Tellie, a momma who loves her, Someone to haul her around and over 70 people who are thinking about her. She's got it all. How can she not get better?
Hey, to those I did miss let us know who your dog or cat is. Post their names in comments below or in Jerseys Place on Facebook. Come on in to Jerseys Place where pets is pets, people is people and good vibrations abound.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
YAWPING from the depths of my soul
I went to the beach yesterday. It was the first time without having either of the dogs with me. My feeling of melancholoy and sadness was palpable as I walked across the exapnse of sand to the waters edge. The images of Jersey running in the bay, eating goose poop and jellyfish, bounding through the woods and standing like a sentinel at the end of the jetty ran through my mind like an endless loop of film.
Before I knew it and almost without realization, I found myself at the near end of the jetty contemplating the rocky walk to its end.
Jersey loves to run along the top of it, stopping now and again to stick her head between the rocks to explore an interesting smell or try to get at a crab stranded by the high tide.
I walked until there was no where else to walk, contemplating all that had happened and was struck by an ovewhelming sense of anger.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" I cried at the blue sky. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU LETTING THIS HAPPEN?" The only response was the rumble of traffic coming from the nearby Chesapeake Bay Bridge. "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO GAVE HER THE BEAUTY AND SPIRIT OF WHO SHE IS AND NOW YOU'RE ALLOWING IT TO BE TAKEN AWAY? WHAT THE FUCK?!"
There's no bargaining with God. There's no deals to be cut, there's no convincing. There's only the the realization that there is nothing humanly possible to be done in an impossible situation.
My momentary yawp was done. The only thing left was anger. "I don't even know if you hear me or pay attention to anything happening to us. Your ambivalence does nothing but breed confusion. What the fuck are you doing? I'm doing my part, now it's time for you to step up to the plate. I'll tell you what, since you're not fucking telling me what you'll do, this is what I'm gonna do: I'm going to love her, I'm going to encourage her, I'm going to support her, I'm going to keep helping her whether you do or not. You fucking do what you will but that's what I'm going to do. You silent coward motherfucker, you make it specifcally clear that you hear me. Now do something about it!"
I railed at God and the universe and whatever else may have there until I had nothing left.
I was angry as I walked back down the beach to the car. None of what was happening made any sense whatsoever. As far as I could tell there was no rhyme, reason or purpose to what Jersey was going through.
None of this is within my control. I'm convinced I've done everything humanly possible to help her: she's got a great diet, she's got comfortable beds all over the house, she gets carried up and down the stairs so she can get out for a pee, she's got unconditional love.
Now, it's out of my hands. There's nothing left for me to hang onto except the hope that I was heard and all my yawping weren't wasted words. I guess there are always miracles and I'm open to one now.
Before I knew it and almost without realization, I found myself at the near end of the jetty contemplating the rocky walk to its end.
Jersey loves to run along the top of it, stopping now and again to stick her head between the rocks to explore an interesting smell or try to get at a crab stranded by the high tide.
I walked until there was no where else to walk, contemplating all that had happened and was struck by an ovewhelming sense of anger.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" I cried at the blue sky. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU LETTING THIS HAPPEN?" The only response was the rumble of traffic coming from the nearby Chesapeake Bay Bridge. "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO GAVE HER THE BEAUTY AND SPIRIT OF WHO SHE IS AND NOW YOU'RE ALLOWING IT TO BE TAKEN AWAY? WHAT THE FUCK?!"
There's no bargaining with God. There's no deals to be cut, there's no convincing. There's only the the realization that there is nothing humanly possible to be done in an impossible situation.
My momentary yawp was done. The only thing left was anger. "I don't even know if you hear me or pay attention to anything happening to us. Your ambivalence does nothing but breed confusion. What the fuck are you doing? I'm doing my part, now it's time for you to step up to the plate. I'll tell you what, since you're not fucking telling me what you'll do, this is what I'm gonna do: I'm going to love her, I'm going to encourage her, I'm going to support her, I'm going to keep helping her whether you do or not. You fucking do what you will but that's what I'm going to do. You silent coward motherfucker, you make it specifcally clear that you hear me. Now do something about it!"
I railed at God and the universe and whatever else may have there until I had nothing left.
I was angry as I walked back down the beach to the car. None of what was happening made any sense whatsoever. As far as I could tell there was no rhyme, reason or purpose to what Jersey was going through.
None of this is within my control. I'm convinced I've done everything humanly possible to help her: she's got a great diet, she's got comfortable beds all over the house, she gets carried up and down the stairs so she can get out for a pee, she's got unconditional love.
Now, it's out of my hands. There's nothing left for me to hang onto except the hope that I was heard and all my yawping weren't wasted words. I guess there are always miracles and I'm open to one now.
Monday, February 18, 2013
10 Days
It's only been 10 days since we aggresively started this fight against Jersey's cancer. It seems like a year. It's been 10 days fraught with: worry, concern, fear, frustration, nervousness, sleeplessness, axiousness, terror, confusion, grief, hopelessness, saddness, sympathy, empathy, despair and uncertainty. Did I miss anything? No, that's about it. The crazy thing? It's all happened during DURING THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES. And it hasn't stopped since 5 pm on Friday, February 8, 2013.
There have also been a few successes as well: when we discovered she liked to eat the lamb medallions, when she climbed the stairs in the middle of the night to let me know she had to go out, when she barked at people outside.
There has also been joy: when we went to the beach the other day. The sun was out and it was surprisingly warm. How we relished that time! We sat and looked at the water, we turned our faces upward toward the the sun to feel it's healing touch, we gently walked at the place where sea and land touch. I held onto her and we looked into each other's eyes.
Now, Jersey lies on her cushions in the front room while absently looking out the window. She hasn't really stood up in two days. She did push herself up into a sitting position a couple of times and I helped her get up a couple of times but otherwise, she has been sprawled out, usually on her chest, with her legs splayed out in front of her. It has been an emotional rollercoaster for all of us; Alexa, me, Tellie and Jersey aduring the last 10 days. The sad thing is, there's no rhyme or reason for any of it.
I don't know what I'm trying to say. There doesn't seem to be a point to this blog today. I'm tired, I'm worn out, I'm empty. It's been a long 10 days.
There have also been a few successes as well: when we discovered she liked to eat the lamb medallions, when she climbed the stairs in the middle of the night to let me know she had to go out, when she barked at people outside.
There has also been joy: when we went to the beach the other day. The sun was out and it was surprisingly warm. How we relished that time! We sat and looked at the water, we turned our faces upward toward the the sun to feel it's healing touch, we gently walked at the place where sea and land touch. I held onto her and we looked into each other's eyes.
Now, Jersey lies on her cushions in the front room while absently looking out the window. She hasn't really stood up in two days. She did push herself up into a sitting position a couple of times and I helped her get up a couple of times but otherwise, she has been sprawled out, usually on her chest, with her legs splayed out in front of her. It has been an emotional rollercoaster for all of us; Alexa, me, Tellie and Jersey aduring the last 10 days. The sad thing is, there's no rhyme or reason for any of it.
I don't know what I'm trying to say. There doesn't seem to be a point to this blog today. I'm tired, I'm worn out, I'm empty. It's been a long 10 days.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Small Sunday miracle
We had gone to bed Friday thinking that if Jersey tried to get up in the middle of the night to pee in the basement, she might hurt herself going down the stairs and not be able to get back up. You see, the "accidents" Jersey has had have been in the basement (it's also my "man cave" where I keep all my little treasures, my books, my guitars, my leather couch, my TV, etc.) far away from where she eats, sleeps and otherwise lives her life. You have to know her to understand that she gets humiliated when she has an accident and I think feels ashamed of herself. It's probably my projections about that but if she does feel those things, they're totally unwarrated.
She had been having a lot of trouble walking. Her left foreleg had been going lame and didn't seem to be getting any better. Since I was so overly concerned, I took her to the vet for a check over, mainly to make sure whatever was going on, wasn't related to the cancer. I also thought it would be a good idea to have her blood tested to see what her various levels were as a result of the chemo. After an x-ray and limb palpation, the vet didn't find anything overtly unusual though she did make Jersey visibly flinch when she manipulated her elbow. The x-ray didn't show anything. We decided she should maintain her course and if the pain was to bad add a pain killer/anti-inflamatory.
By the time we got back from the vet, Jersey was doing well. She did need help getting out of the car but seemed to have a revived spirit. Based on that assesment, Alexa and I decided to take both dogs and spend the afternoon at the beach.
Without going into detail, we all had a great afternoon. The picture I posted of me and Jersey sitting on the sand was taken that afternoon so it's a very recent snap.
When we got home, you could tell she was feeling a little stressed and was probably in pain. She had walked alot. She made a determined effort to walk the length of the beach to the rock jetty which juts out into the bay. She had to get to the end of it to feel the breeze in her face and smell the smell of the water and look at the ducks which bob up and down around the edge where the boulders of the jetty meet the water.
I gave her a very minimal dose of her pain med and utlimately watched her suffer because of it. It's supposed to make her lethargic. She couldn't get comfortable, grunted everytime she shifted position and generally was not having much fun. She actually looked scared. I imagine if she could talk she probably would have said something like "I don't know what's happening to me, I don't like it. Help me, please."
When we went to bed that night, she was still tossing and turning and fitfully sleeping. She was restless and not resting well at all.
At about 4 am, we were jolted bolt upright from bed when we heard an otherwordly scream come from downstairs. It was the sound of horrendous pain mixed with the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard mixed with an expression of absolute, unbridled terror. I had NEVER heard anything like it and I'm sure she never felt anything like the pain I'm sure she experienced.
After flying down the stairs to her side, it appeared she had tried to stand up and have a pee somehwere. She couldn't make it and apparently hurt something in her leg. She could not be coaxed to go outside, she could not be coaxed to move, it was almost to the point when she couldn't be comforted; she looked that terrified.
To keep todays post from dragging on too, too long, she spent the day in one of her two beds. She was depressed, I think she was in pain, she ignored us and seemed to only want to be alone. She did have an appetite though and drank water throughout the day. By the time five o'clock in the afternoon rolled around, she hadn't been outside; hadn't pooped or peed.
We where in the kitchen making dinner when both dogs suddenly started barking frantically. Jersey had been lying on the floor in the front room. The windows go to the floor and it's easy for her to see out to the street. Someone or something must have gone past because it was enough to make her pop-up and ferociously bark.
I snapped at the chance to get her outside to relieve herself. She willingly was led out where she had a good long pee. That alone was enough to make me heart rejoice. She had peed.
Fast forwad to three am this morning. I had set my alarm for 3:30 thinking I would get up to help Jersey stand up if she needed to go out. I was awoken to the sound of heavy breathing outside my door. She had climbed the stairs and was lying on the floor. I was thunderstruck! This dog had not been able to stand all day and here she was on the second floor of our house waiting to be let outside. She made her way down the stairs and with a little help, got outside to have another long pee. When she was done, she went back in the house, lay down on the floor in her front room and fell back to sleep.
This morning she ate a hearty breakfast, drank her share of water and is now resting comfortably. She continues to astound and prove that it is indeed best to take life one step at a time. you never know what's going to happen.
The spirit and the life within Jersey run strong and I think she was blessed with a small miracle. I think we were all blessed with a small miracle yesterday.
So goes the life of our Jersey. God bless her and keep her free from pain today. Small steps are all it takes.
She had been having a lot of trouble walking. Her left foreleg had been going lame and didn't seem to be getting any better. Since I was so overly concerned, I took her to the vet for a check over, mainly to make sure whatever was going on, wasn't related to the cancer. I also thought it would be a good idea to have her blood tested to see what her various levels were as a result of the chemo. After an x-ray and limb palpation, the vet didn't find anything overtly unusual though she did make Jersey visibly flinch when she manipulated her elbow. The x-ray didn't show anything. We decided she should maintain her course and if the pain was to bad add a pain killer/anti-inflamatory.
By the time we got back from the vet, Jersey was doing well. She did need help getting out of the car but seemed to have a revived spirit. Based on that assesment, Alexa and I decided to take both dogs and spend the afternoon at the beach.
Without going into detail, we all had a great afternoon. The picture I posted of me and Jersey sitting on the sand was taken that afternoon so it's a very recent snap.
When we got home, you could tell she was feeling a little stressed and was probably in pain. She had walked alot. She made a determined effort to walk the length of the beach to the rock jetty which juts out into the bay. She had to get to the end of it to feel the breeze in her face and smell the smell of the water and look at the ducks which bob up and down around the edge where the boulders of the jetty meet the water.
I gave her a very minimal dose of her pain med and utlimately watched her suffer because of it. It's supposed to make her lethargic. She couldn't get comfortable, grunted everytime she shifted position and generally was not having much fun. She actually looked scared. I imagine if she could talk she probably would have said something like "I don't know what's happening to me, I don't like it. Help me, please."
When we went to bed that night, she was still tossing and turning and fitfully sleeping. She was restless and not resting well at all.
At about 4 am, we were jolted bolt upright from bed when we heard an otherwordly scream come from downstairs. It was the sound of horrendous pain mixed with the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard mixed with an expression of absolute, unbridled terror. I had NEVER heard anything like it and I'm sure she never felt anything like the pain I'm sure she experienced.
After flying down the stairs to her side, it appeared she had tried to stand up and have a pee somehwere. She couldn't make it and apparently hurt something in her leg. She could not be coaxed to go outside, she could not be coaxed to move, it was almost to the point when she couldn't be comforted; she looked that terrified.
To keep todays post from dragging on too, too long, she spent the day in one of her two beds. She was depressed, I think she was in pain, she ignored us and seemed to only want to be alone. She did have an appetite though and drank water throughout the day. By the time five o'clock in the afternoon rolled around, she hadn't been outside; hadn't pooped or peed.
We where in the kitchen making dinner when both dogs suddenly started barking frantically. Jersey had been lying on the floor in the front room. The windows go to the floor and it's easy for her to see out to the street. Someone or something must have gone past because it was enough to make her pop-up and ferociously bark.
I snapped at the chance to get her outside to relieve herself. She willingly was led out where she had a good long pee. That alone was enough to make me heart rejoice. She had peed.
Fast forwad to three am this morning. I had set my alarm for 3:30 thinking I would get up to help Jersey stand up if she needed to go out. I was awoken to the sound of heavy breathing outside my door. She had climbed the stairs and was lying on the floor. I was thunderstruck! This dog had not been able to stand all day and here she was on the second floor of our house waiting to be let outside. She made her way down the stairs and with a little help, got outside to have another long pee. When she was done, she went back in the house, lay down on the floor in her front room and fell back to sleep.
This morning she ate a hearty breakfast, drank her share of water and is now resting comfortably. She continues to astound and prove that it is indeed best to take life one step at a time. you never know what's going to happen.
The spirit and the life within Jersey run strong and I think she was blessed with a small miracle. I think we were all blessed with a small miracle yesterday.
So goes the life of our Jersey. God bless her and keep her free from pain today. Small steps are all it takes.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Jersey and Me
"Down the Shore, everything's alright...nothing matters in this whole wide world, when you're in love with a
Jersey Girl."
Me and Jersey
Sandy Point State Park, Annapolis, MD.
Today, 2/15/2013
Enough said...
Thursday, February 14, 2013
You expect me to eat this?
I thought cats were supposed to be the finicky ones. Aside from having an interest in mice, I always heard they turned up their nose when offered food they didn't like. Turns out Jersey is finicky as well. Well, maybe finicky isn't the right word. It's probably more appropriate to say she has discriminating tastes.
When Jersey was diagnosed we made a conscious decision to switch her to a Raw Diet. We adopted the mantra of "meat, meat, meat" after having discovered that a good diet for a dog with lymphoma is one high in protein with no grain and no carbohydrates. Apparently, cutting off the grains and carbos starves the cancer cells and retards their spread and growth. Proteins build the body up. A Raw Diet is one with meats, meat by products like hearts and gizzards and lots of fruits and vegetables which together, provide the appropriate balance of nutrients for optimal health.
There are many brands of natural foods which come in all kinds of different forms. There's raw frozen, raw dehydrated, raw kibble, kibble supplemented with raw bits but a finite number of base ingredients - chicken, beef, turkey and lamb being the most popular ones. One can also find venison, rabbit, duck and rarely a sardine or salmon mix. Without getting into graphic detail, think of the maxim "I like sausage but don't need to see how it's made", it can be purchased in ground, burger patties, things that look like little flesh balls and compressed medalions.
It turns out Jersey likes fresh boiled chicken but absolutely turned her nose up at a raw formulated diet. She will snarf up chicken from the supermarket but under no circumstance will she eat a delectable offering of a raw chicken pattie supplemented with all this stuff which is supposed to be good for her. She turns up her nose like a kid being told to eat the cauliflower on their plate.
Believe me, this stuff is expensive. One can buy a package, open it up and try to feed it. If it's rejected, the bag can't be returned. It's raw food. The only choice is to buy another pack of a different brand or another flavor and try to get the dog to eat it. The whole process can turn into an excersise of frustration for the Puppy Pappa who only has the best interests of his sick dog in mind.
Without dragging the story out any longer, we finally hit on as flavor Jersey likes. It happens to be a little on the more expensive side (it figures) but she eats it. It turns out she likes lamb. The particular offering she is favoring comes in a package of 48 medalions. Basically for a dog her size, she's supposed to get 10 little rounds of ground meat and vegetables daily. This translates into three pound bag every four days. Since this particular brand only comes in a three pound size, we're reduced to having to buy a couple of bags a week. I can imagine the cost adding up very quickly.
Bottom line though, it seems a small price to pay for the chance to help Jersey achieve remission and buy her as much time as possible.
When Jersey was diagnosed we made a conscious decision to switch her to a Raw Diet. We adopted the mantra of "meat, meat, meat" after having discovered that a good diet for a dog with lymphoma is one high in protein with no grain and no carbohydrates. Apparently, cutting off the grains and carbos starves the cancer cells and retards their spread and growth. Proteins build the body up. A Raw Diet is one with meats, meat by products like hearts and gizzards and lots of fruits and vegetables which together, provide the appropriate balance of nutrients for optimal health.
There are many brands of natural foods which come in all kinds of different forms. There's raw frozen, raw dehydrated, raw kibble, kibble supplemented with raw bits but a finite number of base ingredients - chicken, beef, turkey and lamb being the most popular ones. One can also find venison, rabbit, duck and rarely a sardine or salmon mix. Without getting into graphic detail, think of the maxim "I like sausage but don't need to see how it's made", it can be purchased in ground, burger patties, things that look like little flesh balls and compressed medalions.
It turns out Jersey likes fresh boiled chicken but absolutely turned her nose up at a raw formulated diet. She will snarf up chicken from the supermarket but under no circumstance will she eat a delectable offering of a raw chicken pattie supplemented with all this stuff which is supposed to be good for her. She turns up her nose like a kid being told to eat the cauliflower on their plate.
Believe me, this stuff is expensive. One can buy a package, open it up and try to feed it. If it's rejected, the bag can't be returned. It's raw food. The only choice is to buy another pack of a different brand or another flavor and try to get the dog to eat it. The whole process can turn into an excersise of frustration for the Puppy Pappa who only has the best interests of his sick dog in mind.
Without dragging the story out any longer, we finally hit on as flavor Jersey likes. It happens to be a little on the more expensive side (it figures) but she eats it. It turns out she likes lamb. The particular offering she is favoring comes in a package of 48 medalions. Basically for a dog her size, she's supposed to get 10 little rounds of ground meat and vegetables daily. This translates into three pound bag every four days. Since this particular brand only comes in a three pound size, we're reduced to having to buy a couple of bags a week. I can imagine the cost adding up very quickly.
Bottom line though, it seems a small price to pay for the chance to help Jersey achieve remission and buy her as much time as possible.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
"If it was on the Internet, it must be true!"
I've been spending time on the Internet. Yes, I make regular visits to Facebook to see what my friends are doing and check my e-mail on a regular basis. I get my daily fix of the comic strip "Doonesbury" and read the Huffington Post at 5:30 every morning. I don't though make it a point to go to WebMd or any of those other sites which provide details of everything from the common cold to diabetes. Since Jersey has been sick, that has all changed.
I think I have searched every variation of the words "Canine;Lymphoma;Chemotherapy;Remission;Raw Diet." As a result I have visited thousands of web sites during the course of the last week and have stuffed my head with more information than I will ever need to be educated about Jersey's particualr form of cancer and how to treat it. However, there is a problem with this approach. Information overload.
If Jersey is gnawing on a bone and she takes a rest to get a drink of water, I panic. I'm generally and genuinely convinced she has lost her appetite and is experiencing kidney failure because she's drinking water. What do I do? I rush to the Internet and do a Google search until I find a page with what seems to be applicable information. I read. "MY GOD!" I scream, panic is really setting in. I yell for my wife.
"ALEXA, JERSEYISHAVINGBORDERLINEMESOMISTITISSYNDROMECALLTHEVET."
I get heart palpatations and begin to fret. What do I do? I keep searching the Internet for confirmation of the diagnosis I just made.
By the time Alexa gets me calmed down and assures me Jersey really just wanted a rest and a drink of water, I have hit a hundred websites, frantically searched for my car keys to rush Jersey to the vet and have started wailing and gnashing my teeth. Both Jersey and Alexa look at me with perplexed looks on their faces; Jersey wags her tail. "You're sure she's OK? You're positive?" "Yes." Alexa says barely able to keep from laughing "She's fine."
I am a rational person. I'm usually reasonable in my thinking. I'm not an extreme person. Get me on the Internet searching for information about Jersey's illness? It all goes out the window.
I know it wasn't asked for but here's some advice -- just because it's on the Internet doesn't make it true. There's enough stress inherent in this situation; don't feed the fire and render yourself insensible, incontinent,inconsolable and incapable. Breathe, be reasonable and relax. It's probably nothing at all. She's probably just thirsty.
I think I have searched every variation of the words "Canine;Lymphoma;Chemotherapy;Remission;Raw Diet." As a result I have visited thousands of web sites during the course of the last week and have stuffed my head with more information than I will ever need to be educated about Jersey's particualr form of cancer and how to treat it. However, there is a problem with this approach. Information overload.
If Jersey is gnawing on a bone and she takes a rest to get a drink of water, I panic. I'm generally and genuinely convinced she has lost her appetite and is experiencing kidney failure because she's drinking water. What do I do? I rush to the Internet and do a Google search until I find a page with what seems to be applicable information. I read. "MY GOD!" I scream, panic is really setting in. I yell for my wife.
"ALEXA, JERSEYISHAVINGBORDERLINEMESOMISTITISSYNDROMECALLTHEVET."
I get heart palpatations and begin to fret. What do I do? I keep searching the Internet for confirmation of the diagnosis I just made.
By the time Alexa gets me calmed down and assures me Jersey really just wanted a rest and a drink of water, I have hit a hundred websites, frantically searched for my car keys to rush Jersey to the vet and have started wailing and gnashing my teeth. Both Jersey and Alexa look at me with perplexed looks on their faces; Jersey wags her tail. "You're sure she's OK? You're positive?" "Yes." Alexa says barely able to keep from laughing "She's fine."
I am a rational person. I'm usually reasonable in my thinking. I'm not an extreme person. Get me on the Internet searching for information about Jersey's illness? It all goes out the window.
I know it wasn't asked for but here's some advice -- just because it's on the Internet doesn't make it true. There's enough stress inherent in this situation; don't feed the fire and render yourself insensible, incontinent,inconsolable and incapable. Breathe, be reasonable and relax. It's probably nothing at all. She's probably just thirsty.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Personally Purposeful
I was lying on the floor with Jersey last night. She was sleeping comfortably, hopefully dreaming dreams. She was gently breathing which is totally different from when she snores. Sometimes they can be heard throughout the house. At others, it's more akin to the sound when someone blows out the candles on their birthday cake. Either way, it's a snore.
As I listened to her breath in and out, I was struck by an overwhelming sense of how much I will miss her when the ends comes. I don't know how much longer she'll be with us though I'm hopeful it will be a while. I'm thankful however. I know she's living under a death sentence; I know the cancer will eventually rear its ugly head with a vengance but I remain thankful. Thankful that I have the time to prepare myself for when it comes. I realize it will still be heartbreaking when the end comes but there is a sense of comfort which comes from knowing I can help her truly live the life of a dog: loving, loyal, present, boundless and beautiful.
All this led me to the understanding that this blog is also about me and the journey I am taking with her. It's called "Jersey's Place" but it's also my story. It's the story of my joy at her successes; it's the story of my watching her struggle to get up, it's the story of the wonder I experience as I watch her lying on the grass in the backyard in the sun, surveying her world. Its the story of heartbreak as her pleading eyes implore me to rescue her as she experiences yet another needle prick at the vet.
I began this venture with no sense of what I would experience. I wish I had someone show me how to navigate these uncharted waters. So I figure if it's something I needed and continue to need other folks in similar situations will as well. If I can make Jersey's and my story available, it could point the way for someone else faced with a similar unwanted, unfathomable journey.
It's for Jersey; it's for me; it's for you
As I listened to her breath in and out, I was struck by an overwhelming sense of how much I will miss her when the ends comes. I don't know how much longer she'll be with us though I'm hopeful it will be a while. I'm thankful however. I know she's living under a death sentence; I know the cancer will eventually rear its ugly head with a vengance but I remain thankful. Thankful that I have the time to prepare myself for when it comes. I realize it will still be heartbreaking when the end comes but there is a sense of comfort which comes from knowing I can help her truly live the life of a dog: loving, loyal, present, boundless and beautiful.
All this led me to the understanding that this blog is also about me and the journey I am taking with her. It's called "Jersey's Place" but it's also my story. It's the story of my joy at her successes; it's the story of my watching her struggle to get up, it's the story of the wonder I experience as I watch her lying on the grass in the backyard in the sun, surveying her world. Its the story of heartbreak as her pleading eyes implore me to rescue her as she experiences yet another needle prick at the vet.
I began this venture with no sense of what I would experience. I wish I had someone show me how to navigate these uncharted waters. So I figure if it's something I needed and continue to need other folks in similar situations will as well. If I can make Jersey's and my story available, it could point the way for someone else faced with a similar unwanted, unfathomable journey.
It's for Jersey; it's for me; it's for you
Monday, February 11, 2013
There, I said it.
Jersey has cancer. There I said it. She has a terminal disease and it is cancer.
That word has such a negative charge around it. When it applies to a loved one, it is even more charged and scary to utter. Never mind say, it is hard and very scary to admit. Though I am learning to accept her diagnosis, it doesn't means it easier to live with. Especially when the only thing we know is that it is malignant. There are just so many questions - will she respond to medication, is she in pain, are we doing everything we can, did we miss something in the past that we could have acted on sooner? Sometimes there really aren't answers and there will be no understanding and that's part of what has to be accepted.
There are so many things we as dog guardians have to consider. Number one is to continue to protect her and keep her safe. Whether this means taking her outside through the basement where she doesn't have to navigate stairs or where to put her water. Do we keep it in the regular place because she knows where it is or in easy proximity to her when she's lying on her favorite bed? It may seem trivial to some but it is part of the equation. Do we treat her the same as always or give her special consideration - is she still allowed free reign of the house or should we isolate her so she doesn't hurt herself trying to get around? There is so much second guessing, it's enough to become overwhelming very quickly.
Research and prevailing wisdom say dogs live in the moment and don't necessarily have any degree of self awareness. She doesn't know she has cancer, she doesn't know how sick she is, she isn't afraid. She only knows that right now, at this moment, she doesn't feel well. However, she does know something is going on with me and Alexa and that the atmosphere around the house is different. Jersey's very intuitive this way. Thankfully though, she doesn't wonder why, she only knows we are sad about something and wants to give us comfort.
She is a great example to us of being present, here and now. It is so important not to get wrapped up in what was or what will be; it only leads to crazy making behavior. There is no room for craziness here. Be here, be here now and the past is done and tomorrow will take care of itself.
That word has such a negative charge around it. When it applies to a loved one, it is even more charged and scary to utter. Never mind say, it is hard and very scary to admit. Though I am learning to accept her diagnosis, it doesn't means it easier to live with. Especially when the only thing we know is that it is malignant. There are just so many questions - will she respond to medication, is she in pain, are we doing everything we can, did we miss something in the past that we could have acted on sooner? Sometimes there really aren't answers and there will be no understanding and that's part of what has to be accepted.
There are so many things we as dog guardians have to consider. Number one is to continue to protect her and keep her safe. Whether this means taking her outside through the basement where she doesn't have to navigate stairs or where to put her water. Do we keep it in the regular place because she knows where it is or in easy proximity to her when she's lying on her favorite bed? It may seem trivial to some but it is part of the equation. Do we treat her the same as always or give her special consideration - is she still allowed free reign of the house or should we isolate her so she doesn't hurt herself trying to get around? There is so much second guessing, it's enough to become overwhelming very quickly.
Research and prevailing wisdom say dogs live in the moment and don't necessarily have any degree of self awareness. She doesn't know she has cancer, she doesn't know how sick she is, she isn't afraid. She only knows that right now, at this moment, she doesn't feel well. However, she does know something is going on with me and Alexa and that the atmosphere around the house is different. Jersey's very intuitive this way. Thankfully though, she doesn't wonder why, she only knows we are sad about something and wants to give us comfort.
She is a great example to us of being present, here and now. It is so important not to get wrapped up in what was or what will be; it only leads to crazy making behavior. There is no room for craziness here. Be here, be here now and the past is done and tomorrow will take care of itself.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
This is Jersey
Last time I posted, I realized I hadn't introduced Jersey. She is a seven year old Akita/Red Healer mix, weighs about 75 lbs and has the most captivating red and gold fur which seems to change color, depending on where the sun is in the sky. She's got deep, deep brown eyes which look as though they are a portal to eternal wisdom, compassion and love.
Jersey came from the Santa Fe Animal Shelter in Santa Fe, NM. She came to us in August, 2005 when she was probably slightly more than two or three months old. When Alexa first saw her, she was in a kennel with what we thought were two brothers. They were all probably from the same litter but we didn' know and it didn't really matter.
Her name then was Brown Sugar. I guess that's what came to mind when the shelter staff looked at her. Alexa had paused in front of Jersey's kennel and watched as the two male puppies were rough housing with the little brown girl. Of course, they were playing but she didn't know that. She was huddled in the corner, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but there. When she looked at Alexa standing in the door, she was clearly saying "Help me. Please." Alexa had no choice but to pick her up.
I was coming around the corner to make way way down the next aisle of puppies when Alexa came up to me holding a light brown puppy under the forelegs. Her puppy belly bulging, her hind legs dangling and a perplexed look on her face. I was struck by the bolt. Here she was, she would be ours.
I took her from Alexa and went into an empty kennel and lay on the floor with her. She wobbled a little bit as she stood looking me in the eye. "Hello" I said. She looked me in the eye and seemed to be thinking "OK, now what?" Something told me I had to break the ice with her and let her know I was alright. I ended up playing "hand game" with her; scuttling my hand across the floor like a bug which she could pounce on a gnaw at. She let me pick her up, she chased after my hand, she looked me in the eye and she wagged ger tail.
I've never encountered a dog who wagged their tale in such a relaxed manner. It waved back and forth; not like a windsheild wiper on full speed but more like a stalk of wheat in a field, gently waving back and forth in a summer breeze..
Her personality clearly came through at that first relaxed wave. She had found a home with us.
Jersey came from the Santa Fe Animal Shelter in Santa Fe, NM. She came to us in August, 2005 when she was probably slightly more than two or three months old. When Alexa first saw her, she was in a kennel with what we thought were two brothers. They were all probably from the same litter but we didn' know and it didn't really matter.
Her name then was Brown Sugar. I guess that's what came to mind when the shelter staff looked at her. Alexa had paused in front of Jersey's kennel and watched as the two male puppies were rough housing with the little brown girl. Of course, they were playing but she didn't know that. She was huddled in the corner, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but there. When she looked at Alexa standing in the door, she was clearly saying "Help me. Please." Alexa had no choice but to pick her up.
I was coming around the corner to make way way down the next aisle of puppies when Alexa came up to me holding a light brown puppy under the forelegs. Her puppy belly bulging, her hind legs dangling and a perplexed look on her face. I was struck by the bolt. Here she was, she would be ours.
I took her from Alexa and went into an empty kennel and lay on the floor with her. She wobbled a little bit as she stood looking me in the eye. "Hello" I said. She looked me in the eye and seemed to be thinking "OK, now what?" Something told me I had to break the ice with her and let her know I was alright. I ended up playing "hand game" with her; scuttling my hand across the floor like a bug which she could pounce on a gnaw at. She let me pick her up, she chased after my hand, she looked me in the eye and she wagged ger tail.
I've never encountered a dog who wagged their tale in such a relaxed manner. It waved back and forth; not like a windsheild wiper on full speed but more like a stalk of wheat in a field, gently waving back and forth in a summer breeze..
Her personality clearly came through at that first relaxed wave. She had found a home with us.
Friday, February 8, 2013
Let it Begin...
T-mnus 1.5 hours +/- til chemo for Jersey. Guess for us too. We've never been through it either.
"St. Francis, angels, and all the saints intercede for our Jersey. Guide the vet's hands. Protect her, support us and let the meds do their work for her highest good. Let healing begin, let her spirit be strong."
"St. Francis, angels, and all the saints intercede for our Jersey. Guide the vet's hands. Protect her, support us and let the meds do their work for her highest good. Let healing begin, let her spirit be strong."
Sardines
Last night, I started giving Jersey stinky, smelly, disgusting sardines. They're supposed to be the best kind of fish for her especially because of the Omega 3 and the oils it provides. The meat is also good for her. Mixing it in with her regular food seems to be the best combination, for now.
We're trying to figure out her diet. We're taking into consideration her cancer, chemo and what is good for dogs. There are so many choices it gets one's head to spinning. From fish, to no grains, reduced carbs, supplements, veggies, oils, meats, etc. We're also trying to decide if we should switch her to what's referred to as a Raw diet or following a receipe and preparing it for her ouselves. Either way, we are determined to provide her the best possible diet which will combat the cancer.
I've decided, and the info I've discovered through research which bears it out, diet is an essential and integral component of battling cancer. It's so important to build her up and not provide anything which will feed the cancer ridden cells. Cutting out grains and carbohydrates is a key to attack that. Cancer feeds off the grains and carbs (or sugars). Remove that stuff, the cancer's got nothing to eat. It's also imperative to make sure she gets protein. Since dogs are carnivours by nature, we're going to be giving her meat, meat, meat! Not sure if it will be chicken, turkey, beef or some combination of all three. I've got more research to do.
For me, I seem to be moving through the initial devestation which comes from receiving such news: "Your dog has cancer." The shock was overwhelming. I never thought I could be crushed, heartbroken, despairing and frightened at the same time. Though those feelings are still there, they are slowly being replaced by my determination to do everything possible to help our girl achieve remission and get a reprieve from the deadly disease. Having my mind occupied with positive tasks engages me and forces me to get the focus off myself and be concerned with Jersey's welfare.
Speaking of Jersey's welfare, Both my wife and I are extremely open to and believe in the possibility of miracles and wonders. There's no reason a healing miracle can't happen. But that however, is a story for another day.
I also just realized I haven't introduced you all to Jersey. I'm going to do that tomorrow. First though, we've got to get her chemo going. It starts this afternoon. It makes me frightened yet hopeful. And that's a good thing.
We're trying to figure out her diet. We're taking into consideration her cancer, chemo and what is good for dogs. There are so many choices it gets one's head to spinning. From fish, to no grains, reduced carbs, supplements, veggies, oils, meats, etc. We're also trying to decide if we should switch her to what's referred to as a Raw diet or following a receipe and preparing it for her ouselves. Either way, we are determined to provide her the best possible diet which will combat the cancer.
I've decided, and the info I've discovered through research which bears it out, diet is an essential and integral component of battling cancer. It's so important to build her up and not provide anything which will feed the cancer ridden cells. Cutting out grains and carbohydrates is a key to attack that. Cancer feeds off the grains and carbs (or sugars). Remove that stuff, the cancer's got nothing to eat. It's also imperative to make sure she gets protein. Since dogs are carnivours by nature, we're going to be giving her meat, meat, meat! Not sure if it will be chicken, turkey, beef or some combination of all three. I've got more research to do.
For me, I seem to be moving through the initial devestation which comes from receiving such news: "Your dog has cancer." The shock was overwhelming. I never thought I could be crushed, heartbroken, despairing and frightened at the same time. Though those feelings are still there, they are slowly being replaced by my determination to do everything possible to help our girl achieve remission and get a reprieve from the deadly disease. Having my mind occupied with positive tasks engages me and forces me to get the focus off myself and be concerned with Jersey's welfare.
Speaking of Jersey's welfare, Both my wife and I are extremely open to and believe in the possibility of miracles and wonders. There's no reason a healing miracle can't happen. But that however, is a story for another day.
I also just realized I haven't introduced you all to Jersey. I'm going to do that tomorrow. First though, we've got to get her chemo going. It starts this afternoon. It makes me frightened yet hopeful. And that's a good thing.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
"What are you doing?"
In addition to Jersey, this space will trace the progress of my wife and I as we make our way down this particular uncharted path. I for one sometimes not very good at keeping what I'm thinking to myself. I've never been very private or stoic. I've always worn my heart on my sleeve and been very open and public, perhaps too open, about my inner thoughts and feelings. Sometimes I don't leave much for myself and have been too vulnerable in sharing where I'm at.
You'll also find I'm very conversational and personal in my writing. My style has always been conversational, even if it appears that I'm talking to myself. I've just found it much more real. I also find the style theraputic. If I can somehow release my thoughts and feelings and get them out, I can put things in perspective and and allow myself some sense of sanity. I also get long winded and am not very good at getting to the point quickly and concisely
I'll do my best to post on a regular bases. I hope at least something small every day. I know there are folks who have become invested in these developments and want regular updates on how Jersey is doing.
Well, here's the first one. Jersey Update: We went to the beach for a little while yesterday where she was off and on leash. Her squeals of delight and her beauty and spirit were very evident as she tried to run and walked gently on leash at my side along the waters edge. The contened smile on her face and nap she had when we got home, more than justified the brief excursion. I figured the pieces of jelly fish and goose poop she found and ate would be no worse than the chemo she starts tomorrow. Be who you are Jersey, eat that poop and jellyfish! Also, rather than clog up FB news feeds, I'm going to create a blog where people who are interested can track her progress and track my progress as we make this journey.
I'll try to pretty up this page and at least make it something nice to look at. I'll post pictures.
Thanks for being with me, you have no idea how much it means.
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