Trial and Errors

As many of my friends know, we're going through a rough patch with Indiana right now. Her cancerous tumor, known to us for over a year, and stable for at least six months, ballooned over the weekend. Friday morning, when I left for a weekend veterinary conference, the tumor was as it always is, able to fit in the palm of my hand. When I returned home Sunday night, the tumor was as large as my hand.

I was stunned. How could this mass, a sarcoma not known for aggressive growth, increase in size so rapidly?

I scrambled to find a way to protect it until morning, when I could take her in to the vet. The mass has always had a thin spot, where the layers of skin are weaker, more fragile. I knew that if the mass kept growing, the tumor would rupture in that spot.

Thanks to some friends, we got the mass protected and put a plan into place, should the tumor break open over night. It didn't though. I was able to get in to see the new vet in our practice, as my regular vet no longer works Mondays.

We've known for a while that there is a hematoma around the tumor--basically a capsule of blood caused by trauma. How much of the mass was blood and how much cancerous tissue, we've never known.

My first instinct when I saw this growing tumor was that much of it had to be blood. How could a sarcoma, not known for being aggressive, grow so exponentially? For over an hour, our vet tried to extract blood from the mass, wanting to provide Indiana's poor stretched skin some relief, wanting to provide relief to me, my panic and desperation evident. But no blood would come. No relief.

Our options: surgery, which we decided against a year ago, due to both the size of the tumor and Indiana's delicate health status, or letting it go, treating with a Chinese herb to reduce the blood. I felt there was a third option: debulking the mass under local anaesthetic, something Indiana has allowed on the past. I'll be calling my vet this morning to discuss this option, as the vet I saw yesterday, young and new to my medically-challenging dog, wasn't eager to take this treatment path.

The tumor continued to grow yesterday, and while I think it might be slightly larger this morning, the growth seems to have slowed, thanks to the Yunnan Paiyao we've been giving her. Indy slept poorly last night, wandering a lot, and this morning we found her against the wall, unable to get up on her own, urine leaking as soon as we lifted her up. Her legs aren't working today. This could be due to exhaustion, or even the UTI I am fairly certain she just developed. Or something worse, though I am hoping with all my heart that it is not.

I can't help but feel that I sent her down this path, knowing a year ago that this is where my choice could lead. I had hoped that it would not. I was naive. I still think we made he right choice. Surgery could kill her. But I still feel responsible for her current state. That's hard to live with.

For now, I am doing at least twice-daily bandage changes. Miraculously, her skin didn't split over night, as I expected it to. I am trying to keep her comfortable and to lift her back legs for her so she can go outside. Puppy urine pads can help in the in-between times, and grooming bath wipes can help clean her up. Thankfully I have all these supplies already.

I'll be calling the vet at 9am sharp to update them. Beyond that, I just don't know. I will do what has to be done. Though Jim had to leave for work, we briefly discussed a sleep plan so that Indy wouldn't have to be left alone. I anticipate little sleep in my future. That's okay.

And I'll not leave her side. The rest of the world will still be there when this crisis has passed. I belong with Indy right now, which is exactly where I want to be.