It’s been an eventful 3 weeks.  Fallon seems to feel a little better every day, and looks and acts more like herself.  Her amputation surgery was 3 weeks ago today.  We’ve come a long way, with quite a distance to cover yet.  Nonetheless, I am having one of my hopeful days today.

Great news received last night through Suzanne, our Vet Tech at Dr. Sue’s office—the x-rays were reviewed and her lungs are clear.  I asked for clarification—they do not see that the cancer has spread to her lungs yet.  I don’t usually live my life like I am playing a role in a drama, but I asked her, in tears, to please repeat it—it sounded so good, and was not what I expected, given that we’ve had little good news.  Add that to the lymph nodes being clear, and we’re definitely feeling like we’re probably in as good a place as we can be—relatively speaking, of course.

Our treatment team is awesome.  I loved our surgeon, I LOVE our oncologist, and I’m making amends with our primary vet.  Everyone is calling to check in and see that all is well, seeing if we have questions, sending phone scritches to Fallon (and Maggie), and reporting any results they get back to us.  I had some reservations and iffy feelings about our local vet, but they are quickly dissipating.  They are super supportive team players for us.  However, they were pretty strong advocates AGAINST amputation.  It doesn’t make them bad, they are just coming from a different place.  But I don’t know where we’d be now had we followed their advice and not gone the extra steps to investigate all options—and get the message clearly from all other angles that amputation was the way to go.  I do know Fallon would be in pain, and we’d have little to no hope for any kind of future.  We’re so grateful for other supportive team members—our family and friends who have followed this and given us moral and emotional support, as well as our new Tripawds family.  I can’t speak highly enough about the support, feedback, atta-girls, and world of information about this journey straight from the keyboards of those already having walked this path.  It has helped us navigate this rough terrain with a lot more insight.

I actually DO know one place we’d be if we didn’t pursue this route—financially more stable.  This has seriously kicked our butt financially, with the promise of another major butt kicking every 3 weeks through chemo, and who knows what is beyond.  I am a social worker—I don’t make big bucks.  But what else do you do?  We’ll figure this out.  Somehow.  There’s help out there.  We are members of the Greyhound Health Initiative and they will reimburse for (what will turn out to be a fraction of the cost of) Carboplatin (due to limits).  But I’m grateful for the support, every little bit helps.  My work is making cuts now.  But whatever happens, we’ll do what we can to make this work.  Because it’s Fallon 🙂

Fallon is doing awesome.  We had a little setback last week with a swollen leg, but that’s going back down and does not seem painful anymore.  She’s more mobile, getting so much better at laying down, and just is looking like her old self more and more every day.  She has been sleeping really well, eating like a champ, and has just seemed happy and lovey-dovey.  Which is her old self 🙂  Meaning we’re doing something right.

Coming soon—Rehab consult!  It is set up for 11/15/17.  We’re hoping this will pave the way for a stronger, more efficient Fallon in terms of 3 legged navigation.  We’re eager to learn how we can support her by doing the right things to help.  This will happen at the specialty practice where Fallon had her surgery.  They have all sorts of Supervets there, we will be seeing Dr. Laura Perez, DVM, CVA, CCRT.  We hope to do what we need to do to get reimbursed through Tripawds Maggie Moo fund.  But we’re convinced this is the right thing for Fallon even without reimbursement possibilities.

Dr. Sue and Fallon on her first day of chemo.  This was posted on her Facebook.

More to come….

One chemo down—everything went well.

It was a very long day.  The Veterinary Cancer Center is close to 3 hours from home, but there were not many oncologists closer than that, and I really wanted the best for Fallon.  If we’re doing this, might as well do it right, I heard so much positive feedback about this practice, and about Dr. Sue Ettinger in particular.  Fallon, Maggie, Fallon’s Dad, and I left about mid-morning for a 1PM appointment, and got there with a little time to spare.  We went into the office and spoke with the technician, Suzanne, for a bit, then Dr. Sue came in to meet and examine Fallon, then discuss options.

Dr. Sue was lovely to work with.  She was compassionate but to the point, speaking frankly about timeframes and options—all the time giving us hope, but making sure we kept real.  I got all teary eyed when talking, but she made me feel comfortable, normal and appropriate.  All the time we were in the office, our dogs were able to walk around freely, and while she discussed serious business with us, she was loving on our girls.  The whole VCC was like that—any staff member who came close to us stopped to give our girls some attention, say a kind word, rub a belly—we were impressed with their love for all the pets that came in.

We looked at options and all the costs (all the COSTS—big) but I knew before we got there I wanted to go with chemotherapy, as long as Fallon was fit and appropriate—and she was.  Fallon went off for chest x-rays and urinalysis, then her first chemo with Carboplatin.

We had a few hours to kill.  We decided to get a bite to eat, so got directions to a patch of drive through restaurants close by—Maggie was with us, so we couldn’t eat in anywhere.  Then we went back to the VCC.  I wanted to be close in case there were any problems.  We took a mat in for Maggie and she camped out in the waiting area with us.  She LOVED it, sitting with tons of people who all loved pets who gave her endless attention.  It went well bringing her, she is so well behaved and she is good moral support for Fallon, so I think we’ll bring her again.  It’s a nice place to wait, despite the circumstances, nice people in the waiting room, and soda, water, coffee and chocolate available for people, healthy biscuits for dogs.

When Fallon was ready, we went back into the office to talk about what we needed to do next—antibiotics start in a week, we need to set up with our home vet for bloodwork to make sure the white blood cells are still  good after the first treatment so we could do the second.  We got immunity support treats for Fallon, and some meds to have handy in the event she has diarrhea or nausea.  Fallon had a bandage on where her IV was, we would need to stop in an hour to remove it.  We’ll hear from them about her chest x-ray and urine sometime in the future.

The drive home was uneventful—much more traffic as we were going during rush hour, but overall proved this was do-able.  Fallon slept really well most of the way home, other than when we stopped to take her bandage off.  Maggie was her usual back seat driver.  Once we got home, everyone was exhausted from our really long, emotional day.  Subsequent ones will be a bit shorter—we won’t always have chest x-rays, urinalysis, and long doctor discussions.  The next treatment is scheduled for November 20—5 more to go.

The Veterinary Cancer Center, Norwalk, CT

More to come…

Fallon is doing OK, she’s just being a dog all day long.  She’s got some struggles, her right front leg is still swollen, we’re treating that.  We debate whether she is sleeping well or not.  But she’s going about her Fallon day and business as usual—the new normal day and business.

I, on the other hand, am not so OK.  I find little joy in things I used to enjoy.  I am preoccupied on doing well for Fallon, obsessing and stressing over every peep she makes, every stumble she takes, doing the best for her.  It’s impacting my job, as well as fun activities I used to enjoy.  I would do neither job or formerly fun activities, if I had a choice.  Chances are, I will have no job after next week, there are rumors of layoffs at work.  Despite not wanting to do my job, I need one.  Out of my hands, I’ll see what happens.  I eat like crazy—I am a stress eater.  It shows.   My hair is falling out by handfuls.  Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but even my eyesight is getting worse.  When Fallon’s doing well, I do better.  My relationship with Fallon’s Dad also varies, depending on how Fallon is doing.  It’s been rough, really rough.  There’s a recent article, The Invisible Emotional Burden of Caring for a Sick Pet, by Roni Jacobson that really spoke to me.

There are things I can do.  The Dog Cancer Survival Guide has lots of exercises that are geared toward combatting this stress so you can be there for your dog—and not get them all stressed out because they are so tuned in emotionally, they start to feel bad.  When I do these exercises—or even think of them–I feel better.  I have to push myself more—maybe not to do more, but focus on the quality of things I do.  Playing hockey used to be the best, most fun thing I did.  Now, it’s a burden, I am distracted, don’t play well, so don’t have fun.  And I worry about Fallon when I’m not with her.  But I have to work past that as well, because I do trust there will be a time I would regret if I gave it up. And I can get back on track, with focus.

It will all come together again.  It’s just hard to remember that.  It’s all pretty new, the concept of Fallon being sick.  We only noticed her limp on September 15^th.  The x-ray confirmed her cancer on September 26.  Today is October 29.  We’ve been moving really fast.  Things are going to settle into a new routine.  And until I get there, I have to chill.  I have to take care of my well-being so I can take care of Fallon’s.  It will all get easier.  I just have to remember that.  Baby steps.

Tomorrow is our appointment with Dr. Sue, the oncologist.  Hopefully the monsoon we’re supposed to get today will be over tomorrow when we travel—but we’re going anyway.  And it’s an awesome next step to help Fallon.  Plus we’ll get to see a new area, it will be like a vacation!  Maggie’s coming too, she is a good support for Fallon and also likes a road trip.  It will be a long day, but I’m looking forward to it.

Road trip tomorrow! This picture is from maybe a year ago.

Fallon, snoozing real time. Her harness is on in case she needs help, but she hasn’t needed any.

More to come…

I don’t know why I feel so upset.  We knew this was the most likely diagnosis going into all this, I’ve been describing it  that way since the beginning, but our doctor just called to discuss the biopsy results, which confirmed osteosarcoma.  “Discuss” is all relative, because there’s really little to say–it sucks.  But he was encouraging, reaffirmed we’ve done the best thing for Fallon with the amputation, reaffirmed that we’ve picked an awesome oncologist, and even made me feel better about whatever happened with her right leg today.

So we go to Dr. Sue, Cancer Vet on Monday…hopefully no more updates until after that.

More to come…

A year ago at Dewey Beach. We’re absolutely going back in April.

I wake up at 6AM and take the dogs out every morning.  This morning, Fallon did not want to walk, she planted herself and wouldn’t move initially.  Eventually, she moved, and got to the top of the stairs, and I helped her down with her harness—which always happens in our new normal, only she didn’t really want to go.  Once we got outside she did her business quick, then planted herself again.  We weren’t much farther than the edge of our property.  I put Fallon back into the house, and went for a walk alone with Maggie.

Fallon stayed downstairs for a little, and then came halfway upstairs on her own.  We have a little landing where the stairs turn a corner.  She stayed there a bit, and then came all the way up.  It was then I saw how swollen her leg was, right at the part I would call her ankle.  It felt really warm, but didn’t seem to bother her at all when I touched it.  I went into full PTSD mode and started calling doctors.  Her surgeon was off today, but they suggested we could come in to their ER if I wanted her seen.  I called our regular vet office, and they could see her today, at 4PM.  Better answer.

She got a little better over the course of the day in that she was more willing to walk, but still very swollen.  But it being Friday, I wanted someone to look at her and tell me how to help her.

Long story short, the appointment went well.  The doc examined her and wanted to x-ray, I was good with that.  The x-ray did not show anything with her bone—in fact, it looked good and strong.  So this is some kind of soft tissue injury.  We’re treating it with the Previcox and just rest, supporting her more with her harness and limiting her activity again.  I was terrified it was another tumor, or the only front leg bone she has left broke somehow. My nightmares did not come true.  This we can handle.

We meet her Oncologist on Monday.  This afternoon the Veterinary Cancer Center called to confirm our appointment.  I had been working this crisis all morning and forgot to check on the biopsy report—I had already been on the phone with the surgeon’s practice, just didn’t ask.  I called again, and the report has arrived.  They faxed it over, so we’re set.  We just don’t know the content yet, because our doctor was not in.  But it’s all good.

More to come…

Fallon, her angel sister Willow, and Dad at the beach a few years ago. We are going to walk this beach in the spring.