The State Of The Blueberry

I have to admit, Blueberry has taken us on quite a wild ride the past few months.  She had a cancerous lump removed from her head in November and we have been at a crossroads as to what to do after the surgery.  It seemed that everywhere we turned, there was another option for her treatment.  We had trouble getting the vets together to discuss her treatment and we wanted to do a lot of research on the options presented to us.  Adding to the complications was the fact that she broke her toe in early January.  Leave it to Blueberry to go to so much trouble to get our attention.

I e-mailed Dr. Cuoto at Ohio State University because he is known as the expert on how to treat Greyhounds and he sees many hounds with cancer.  He recommended intralesional chemotherapy, which is basically where they inject chemo into a tumor.  It can be rather rough on the patient, however and no one in our vet's office felt comfortable performing the procedure.  Plus, she had the tumor removed and we aren't sure if there's any of it left in her head or not. 

Our vet called the University of Illinois and asked what their suggestion would be.  The oncologist there recommended nineteen radiation treatments, one a day, and Blueberry would have to stay there for about a month. I have a lot of reasons that I won't post here about why I won't leave any of my dogs there, but that's a long tangent to another place.  The truth is, I just can't see putting her through that.  A month away from home and that much radiation in her body can't be good for her and she wouldn't handle it well at all.  It is also unbelievably expensive. 

We spoke to five people who had also experienced the same kind of cancer in their dogs.  Four were Greyhound owners and the other was Miss Sunshade the Superdale's mom.  Three of the Greyhounds had the lump removed and lived for several years before dying of separate old age related problems that had nothing to do with the cancer.  Another had the surgery a year ago and has had no recurrance since then.   The research that I have read about the disease says that it is slow growing and rarely moves to another part of the body.  If it recurs, it happens again in the same spot.

So, we have come to a decision after a lengthy talk with our vet.  We're not going to do anything else right now.  The vet doesn't feel comfortable doing another surgery right now because there's not much between Blue's skin and her skull and the more they cut it open, the less they have left to sew back closed.  We're going to watch the spot on her head and if a lump reappears, then there will be surgery and possible cause for more aggressive treatment.  For now, we're going to concentrate on healing her toe so she can get out there and enjoy life after cancer. 

We have used the money that was raised for her to pay for her first surgery and we did have to use some of it for her toe, too.  The broken toe has turned out to be more expensive than the original surgery.  Our plan is to put money aside and hold onto it in case she does need more surgery in the future.  I can't begin to tell all of you what a relief it was to not have to worry about what we would do about the money to take care of her.  To everyone who donated money and bid in the auction, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.  Knowing that we will have our girl here with us for hopefully as long as we've had her mother is the best gift that we could ever have asked for. 

I know this post isn't particularly humorous, but I know that many people have wondered what is happening with Blue and I wanted to explain it and let people know where we were.  It has been a long few months for us full of sleepless nights, worry, research, frustration and finally enlightenment.  I think the possibility of it coming back will always be in the back of my mind, but it isn't the looming spectre that it was before.  I feel at peace with our decision and I honestly believe that we've come up with the best plan for Blueberry.  It's good to go back to worrying about trivial things like how to best capture her good side and not whether I'm making a life or death decision. 

Hearts Full of Gratitude

We were stunned this weekend to learn how much money Blueberry's auction raised.  It exceeded any amount that we could have guessed.  We owe a huge debt of gratitude to JD and Max, Frankie Furter, Barbara, the Slimmer Pugs, Ronii and Richie who made the badges, everyone who donated prizes for the auction and bid on things, and to everyone who helped share the word about the auction.  There are more people and dogs to thank than I can even begin to list, so if I forgot to list something that someone did, please know that it was not unappreciated.  I am just in a state of being overwhelmed right now.

Many people have asked us about how Blueberry is doing and what will happen next.  Blueberry is doing remarkably well right now.  She's even grown a nice patch of hair back where she was bald just in time for the nasty winter weather we've just gotten.  Facing her mortality has motivated me to include her in more of our outings and activities, too, which she is happy about.  I daresay, she might even be taking advantage of us a little.  She has a rather long Christmas list.

What will happen next is still up in the air a bit.  I consulted Dr. Cuoto, a really wonderful vet at OSU who specializes in Greyhounds with cancer.  He told me he was willing to consult with my vet.  The head vet at the practice we use is a wonderful man who knows a lot about Greyhounds.  However, he has another, younger vet in his practice who I, frankly, have much less confidence in.  I'll just say that I feel her people skills are lacking and she is not helpful at all in helping you to devise a plan of attack in the face of a serious illness or problem.  I'd get the same reaction from her whether I said we thought we'd just do nothing at this point or if I said I thought we should remove Blueberry's entire head to be sure we'd taken care of the problem.  She seems to understand science and biology well enough, but humanity is a somewhat foriegn concept to her.  She's kind to the dogs and they like her, but well, I'd like to feel like there's some sort of understanding from her. 

One option we are considering is just taking Blueberry to OSU for them to see her there.  I had hoped that we'd be able to deal with things through our vet's office, but I can't wait around for them to get things together forever.  As we know more about what our plan of attack will be, we will share it.  

I hope that if nothing else comes out of this, we will at least be able to someday help someone else feel less alone with decisions like we are facing.  I never realized how heavy the burden of a cancer diagnosis is.  There are so many things I felt like I needed to know and also the pressure of needing to make a decision quickly.  In fact, one of the best pieces of advice that I got was not to rush the decision and to take time to weigh the options.  The desire to make things better is almost overwhelming sometimes.  I have been really thankful to those who have shared with us that they went through the same kind of cancer with their dogs and what they've learned along the way.   One day, I will be the person sharing what I've learned, and it will be a lot of information.

Again, I cannot say enough how much we have appreciated everyone's support, in all the various ways that it has come to us.  We will always be thankful for all that everyone here has done for us.  Blueberry has always been a one of a kind girl, but we had no idea that she was as special to so many people besides us.  Thank you from all of us!

Not The News We Were Hoping To Hear

I'll just start this post by saying that if I begin to ramble and you feel lost, I won't be upset or offended if you just tune out.  I don't want to ramble, but my thoughts are pretty scattered.  I'm trying to make sense of all the information that's come at me.

Yesterday afternoon, I got the call with the pathology report from the vet for Blueberry.  Blueberry's lump was neurofibrosarcoma.  The margins were dirty, which basically means that they can't be sure that they got it all.  The vet says that usually this type of cancer doesn't spread, but it does tend to have tendrils that stretch out.  I feel like we've gotten mixed messages there.  On one hand, they said it's positive that there was only one blood vessel and that often the tumor never comes back and the dog is fine.  On the other, they say that her margins were dirty and there's a chance the lump could come back. 

So far, our options are vast.  First, we can do nothing and pray that the tumor never comes back, and possibly have to have it removed again.  Second, we can have surgery again and they can try to take enough from around the tumor site to try to get clean margins.  Third, we can go in and have x-rays done on her lungs and abdomen and have her lymph nodes aspirated.  Fourth, we can go to an oncologist, who will probably want option three done and can do radiation.  Fifth, my head could possibly explode and all the information could float out into the ether.

Blue has bounced back from the surgery last week remarkably well.  She doesn't seem to be bothered by any of this at all.  To me, she still seems very young, unlike Hawk, who was showing his age by the time he was eight years old.  She always wants to go and do what we're doing and hardly anything ever phases her.  Blueberry just stays calm through everything -- Lilac barking, tornados blowing through town, people coming home late, new dogs moving in -- she takes it all in stride.  So, I feel fairly confident that she will handle whatever we decide to do with her usual grace.  We just need to figure out what the plan will be.

If anybody reading has had experience with neurofibrosarcoma, we'd love to hear about it.  Heck, I hope that I managed to spell it right.  We are going to be researching our options and trying to get that money tree in the back yard to grow some fruit.  It will be a learning curve for us and hopefully we make the right call.  We have greatly appreciated everyone's support since we started on this journey.  It has helped more than I can say!  When we have more news on Miss Blue, we will share it.

Angels On Earth -- Celebrating Live Strong

My grandmother on my mom's side was one of those people that everyone just flocked to.  I can't recall ever meeting a person who had a single complaint about her.  There was just an air about her that put you at ease and made you want to be near her.

She was born the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter.  In the area where she grew up, many people believed that being born the seventh child of a seventh child and being of the same gender gave you special gifts.  Many times I have heard about how she used to be able to touch people's warts and the next day the warts would be gone.  As a young girl, she was very shy and one day after church, she was just mobbed by people asking her to rub their hands to remove wars and she vowed that she'd never remove another wart.  After that, she never could.

One night, she was walking home with her sister and a friend from church and they saw a ghost.  She told me the story every time I asked her to, and when I went back to Alabama with her, she even took me and showed me the place where she'd seen it.  It was always one of my favorite stories, mainly because of the way she told it.  After they saw it, her sister and friend took off running down the road, but she stood frozen in fear.  The haint drifted past right in front of her and disappeared into a storm cellar.

My grandmother was also known to occasionally have dreams about things that really happened.  She woke up sobbing one night over a plane crash that she'd seen, only to turn on the television the next morning and see it there.  The most famous of her dreams, though, was about me.  When my mom got pregnant with me, she dreamed that I'd be a girl with lots of dark hair and blue eyes.  As soon as the news came that I'd arrived, she and my grandpa hurried to the hospital to see my mom and me.  My grandfather was in a rush to see my mom and see that she was alright and hurried right past the nursery.  Grandma stopped and looked in, and recognized me immediately, even though the cribs weren't marked. 

Honestly, that story really tells so much of the story of my relationship with her that it's hard to describe.  My relationship with my parents wasn't particularly good.  My parents divorced when I was seven and both seemed to be more caught up in themselves than my sister and me.  My grandma was the person who was really there for me.  I credit much of the person I've become to her.  We could be together and "just be" without needing to talk and fill the void with a lot of chatter or words.  That's not to say that we didn't talk, but I remember many comfortable silences together with her on her porch.

After they moved back to Alabama, my sister and I visited there together almost every summer.  Sometimes with one of my parents, but often alone.  We travelled there by bus, by train, and later took an annual road trip together in June as soon as school was out for both of us.  After my grandpa died, we still travelled to see her.  To this day, I can't hear Bluegrass or old time Gospel music and not think about her kitchen.

Every year after I got married, she'd mail me a check.  One of those checks paid the adoption fee for the best present I ever got myself and allowed Treat to come into our lives.  I regret deeply that she never got to meet Treat, because I know she would have adored her.

The last time I saw her, she and my mom were both battling cancer.  I was the only one of the three of us who had hair.  My mom is still a breast cancer survivor.  However, three weeks after our last visit together, my grandmother lost her battle with cancer.  It had started around one of her bronchial tubes, went into remission, and then reappeared in her brain.  She passed away on Mother's Day, and a week later I got the last birthday card I'd ever get from her.  Ironically, Treat passed away near the anniversary of her death from a spinal tumor seven years later. 

Treat was our first Greyhound.  She was a perfect first dog, with an amazing personality and always wanted to be on the go.  She was a therapy dog, a READ dog, an ambassadog for Greyhounds everywhere, an amazing traveling companion and always wanted to be able to go where we were going.  If I'd put a leash on her, she'd walk to the ends of the Earth with me. 

One March afternoon I took the dogs out for turn out.  When we got to the door of the pen, Treat squatted to go to the bathroom and I figured that she had been stubborn in the morning and hadn't gone when she was out.  It took me about thirty seconds to realize that something was wrong after she went into the pen.  She couldn't stand up.  I felt my heart stop right there.  I called my husband, and called the vet to tell them I was bringing her in.  My husband arrived home, and we hurried to the vet.

A few tests at the vet left them baffled, but it was apparent that something was drastically wrong with Treat.  To say that I was heartsick is a huge understatement.  They offered a tenuous hope, to give her steroids overnight and see how she was doing in the morning.  I grasped the straw.  Amazingly, she was up and able to walk with assistance the next morning.  A day later, I brought her home, scared about what the future would hold, but relieved beyond belief that I still had my girl. 

She wasn't supposed to go up stairs or climb onto furniture by herself, so I'd bought her a huge, fancy orthopedic bed.  I carefully carried her into the house and set her on the bed.  She gave me a look of disgust and staggered over to the couch where she put her front feet up there.  I hurried over to pick her up and set her on the couch so she wouldn't hurt herself, and she curled up contentedly. 

We had several ups and downs where she got much better and then got worse.  Finally, five weeks after the onset of the problem, she had a bad weekend and that Monday morning she looked at me and I knew it was over.  She was tired of fighting, even though she'd done it so valiantly.   I called work and the vet and we took our last ride together. 

Cancer is a nasty thief, a crusher of dreams, and a breaker of hearts.  It's something I wouldn't wish on anyone, not for someone to battle themselves, or to have to watch a loved one go through it.  I really hope that in my lifetime we'll see an end to this ugly disease.

Today people are blogging everywhere in the LiveStrong Challenge about loved ones who have battled cancer.  I wanted to write about Treat's battle since this is a dog blog, but I wanted to share and celebrate my grandmother's life today, partly because she helped to lead me to my current love of dogs, and partly because I've talked about Treat's struggle with cancer before.  My grandmother was more than another cancer statistic, she was a person who touched many lives -- probably more than I'll ever know.  So, today I celebrate cancer survivors everywhere and honor those who still fight that battle.  I'd also like to offer a thank you to Dr. Cuoto at Ohio State University for all his work to cure and battle canine cancer.  They do wonderful and amazing work there, as many Greyhound owners know.  Take a minute to hug the people you love today and be glad they're here with you!