OMG OMG

What I've been doing instead of blogging.

I logged on to make a post this morning, and nearly gasped at the realization that the last time I posted was August 4.  And today is August 18.  Ugh.

Not that I think I have thousands of worshiping adorers out there, refreshing their browsers every 5 minutes, waiting for a new post about my animals to come up.  But I did make a personal vow to post every weekday--that's five days a week--and now I've really broken that vow.

However, it's not completely my fault.  After the August 4th post, my cell phone decided to stop charging, and I use my cell for everything--including internet service.  So I was without the internet for over a week while I waited for Amazon to ship my new charger (because Verizon doesn't sell them anymore--and they won't let me get an early upgrade--thanks, Verizon.  I'm glad that 10 years of on-time payments means so much to you.) 

Anyway, once I got my cell up and working again, I went on vacation with my Mom to Wisconsin Dells.  We had a great time, staying in a really nice motel with a great view, wearing belly packs, and touristing it up.  Then I leave on a quick weekend 11th Anniversary getaway tomorrow, but I promise I'll be back to posting adorable pictures and stories of my naughty cats next week.

For those who are curious (and there are at least one or two of you out there, right?), my clan are all doing well.  Indy is UTI-free for the time being and is eating relatively well.  The cats are being fairly harmonious, Isis is Isis, and Cimba has been neglected by Midwest-travelling me but has been well cared for by friends Nikki and Cassie.

Until Monday, my friends...

Everything in Flux

The worst case scenario has come true. Indiana has cancer. Again.

Jim and I (and of course Indiana) successfully battled leiomyosarcoma--and it's still gone--only for Indiana to survive long enough to get another, completely different, type of cancer. While the first cancer was an extremely acute case that put her life immediately in danger, this cancer is different. Everything is different.

On Thursday, September 30, we were told that Indiana had a Stage 1 Soft-tissue Sarcoma. It's a small, quarter-sized tumor on just to the right of her spine, though not actually attached to any muscle. U of I wants to perform surgery within the next month, and four years ago we would have taken this option eagerly. But this time around, our course isn't so clear.

Indiana has a host of health problems, partly from being 12 years old, and partly from having gone through chemo four years ago (ironic, isn't it?). Though arthritis (from being old) is HER biggest complaint, kidney disease and a heart arrhythmia (from the chemo) are OUR biggest concerns. We worry that anaesthesia could put too much strain on her heart and kill her on the operating table. Or that it could screw up her kidneys even worse.

Typically, I'm not the kind of person who vacillates in making a decision. I'm strong-willed and opinionated. Even if I take some time to make a choice, I probably have a particular way I'm leaning in my mind. But not with this. I am absolutely, 100% torn. If I had to make a decision today (and thank goodness I don't), I would be lost. Because I AM lost. Indiana is telling me she still wants to fight. She feels great, and the light in her eyes gives me hope. But I can't let her die on an operating table, either. But how can I let an evil monster like cancer just grow on her body?

Jim and I have the beginnings of a plan. I've already made an appointment to see Indy's nephrologist (her kidney specialist--an amazing man), and today I'll be calling her cardiologist (also a wonderful guy), and making arrangements to get a second cardiology opinion. I've already spoken with our vet, Dr. Becker, who encouraged us to get as many opinions as possible, but she isn't necessarily pro-surgery, and I respect that. I'm not sure I am either. I am comforted that our plan involves a visit with Dr. Becker in three weeks, where the three of us will make a decision together. Hopefully before then, my heart and my brain will decide what we want to do.

I am so heartbroken about this, I don't even know what to do. In the last four years, I have made every conceivable change in Indy's life--the best food, the best doctors, the best supplements, the best proactive care--and still, she gets cancer again. I am going through three of the five stages of grief all at once--denial, depression, and anger. I don't want to hear, see, or think the word "God," because I am now convinced he doesn't exist. It's stupid, I guess, but I am tempted to avoid Facebook for all of the status posts my believer friends make referencing God. They really do make me a bit sick, because I can't believe he even exists, because if he does, he has absolutely forsaken me.

The denial part is my inability to really process this. I KNOW my dog has cancer, but I haven't really allowed myself to absorb that idea or really think about what it means, because to do so means to allow my soul and my spirit to be crushed yet again. It's been damaged so many times in this past year, I'm not sure it can handle it again. So that's why I'm depressed too. I was depressed before this diagnosis, and the cancer is really the icing on the cake.

I hate that I couldn't prevent Indy from getting cancer again, and I hate that I don't know how to help her. I am so lost, and so sad, yet I know I have to keep going, to fight for my precious baby. I have to remove myself from much of the "real" world, because honestly, I don't have enough left inside me to be able to fight this cancer and be a regular person. I hope all of my friends and associates will understand. I don't really have much of a choice. At least that is clear to me.

38 Months and Counting

My friend Shanele and I spent part of the day yesterday at the University of Illinois Small Animal Clinic for Indiana's twice-yearly appointment with oncology. I'm always a nervous wreck before these appointments. Even though Indiana is doing well, it seems like I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. We had a lot of bad news in the beginning, so I know things don't always go smoothly. Still, I know my dog, and I know she doesn't have cancer anymore.

I can't say as though I ever look forward to going, but it's become a pretty regular part of our lives, and I'm used to it. I take comfort in knowing what's going to happen. So of course yesterday, they had to change things. Normally, we start our visit by being led back to the private oncology waiting room, complete with couches for parents and furry kids alike. We chill out for a while until an oncologist comes to see us. They do an exam there in the little waiting room, and Indiana is taken away for blood tests, ultrasound, and x-ray. Otherwise, we all get to wait together.

But yesterday starts with a tech (not one of our regular ones!) taking us to an exam room...not our couches. I mention this, and she only says we can go to the couches later. Hmmm. I don't like change. After a very formal check-in (we've been coming here for over 3 years!), she tells us the doctor will be in soon...and not our usual doctor. Strike two. The visit with the doctor goes fine--she's one we've seen before, though she's a full doctor, not our usual resident. She has me sign forms and ok the costs for the procedures, something we've not had to do since Indiana first got sick. Huh? What's going on here? Why are we in this alternate-universe U of I???

After all that oddness is over, we are finally led back to our precious couches. Oh, sweet, fluffy couches. How I love you. You are so normal. The rest of the visit goes by much like usual. We see a couple of students, rather than a resident, because the department is short-handed right now. Indiana doesn't seem to like the unfamiliar faces. We're used to all of our usual people, who don't seem to be around today. Bah!

Overall, I can't really complain, because everything came back great. There is no sign of the cancer, and Indiana's heart arrhythmia, while still present, hasn't gotten any worse. There are a few age-related changes, which the doctor considers normal. (I'm just happy to still have a dog who's able to grow old!) Indy's BUN is high, though her creatinine is normal, most likely from her raw food diet, or from one of her supplements. I'm not overly concerned about this--I left Dr. Becker a message about it, and we'll see if she wants to run a fasting BUN sometime.

I was a tad irritated, because the release report mentioned something the vet hadn't--Indiana's adrenals are mildly bilaterally enlarged, more so than last time. I'm concerned this indicates a progression of the atypical Cushing's Disease she was diagnosed with about a year and a half ago. We'll see what Dr. Becker has to say about it.

But none of these things really worries me. The cancer isn't back, and Indiana feels better than she has in a long time. After cancer, nothing is insurmountable, and neither of these problems is life-threatening as they stand. Just like everything else, Indiana will kick ass.