Somehow I’m still in a good mood, despite waking up with sore feet and knees, and dealing with upsetting news about Chami.

 

Whatever is wrong with my toe has been getting worse all week. I’m sure I look like a wobbling, hobbling baby taking her first tentative steps when I make my way from bed to bathroom in the early morning. Eventually the kinks get worked out but I just can’t put up with the trappings of getting older. Later in the morning the vet called. We learned that Chami has a malignant tumor, that it will need to be removed right away, and that she’ll probably still have cancer after the surgery and who knows how long she’ll live. Doctor (Susan) Bertram doesn’t think she’ll be able to go after the entire tumor since it resides atop Chami’s hind knee joint. She can’t dig too far into the joint without crippling Chami. Susan said there were other, more aggressive alternatives to consider but that she doesn’t support them herself (amputation of the leg and/or chemotherapy). She could refer us to a different vet but we chose to use a holistic vet for a reason and we aren’t interested in these more invasive choices either. We’ve scheduled the surgery for next Tuesday. After we get the results back from the pathologist letting us know just how aggressive the tumor is, we’ll determine a course of treatment using homeopathic, herbal and dietary tools. These therapies will be geared toward boosting Chami’s immune system as much as possible so she can fight off whatever cancer is left in her body. She may live another three years, or three months.

 

The good news is that Chami’s blood work came back showing she is in remarkably superior health–aside from having cancer. Susan said she’s never seen a blood workup in an old dog that was so pristine. There is good reason to hope that Chami has what it takes to win this battle. We love Chami like a child; she is a delightful and cherished part of our family. Yet, I don’t understand the choice some people would make to force painful and debilitating treatments such as an amputation and/or chemo on their dog. A dog doesn’t understand that these procedures will keep them around for another few years; all they know is how challenging and painful they are. Dogs don’t have a sense of time or impending death so the idea of dying from cancer doesn’t bother them. Trying to learn to walk on three legs does. If a dog could communicate I’m certain it would ask to forgo the harsh remedies so they could live out their remaining years or months with some comfort and dignity. The financial blow is staggering as well. As it is, we will spend $2,000 that we don’t have, on surgery and post care. Amputation, physical therapy, chemo therapy, and so forth would run easily into $10,000 and more. Just think how much support one could give to a spay and neuter clinic with this amount of money; or help endangered tigers in India, or whatever. I guess it is all relative. Perhaps we shouldn’t be spending as much as we are on Chami and maybe if we were wealthy we would consider investing ten times the amount into keeping our pet alive a bit longer. But it isn’t really about the money, and we can’t let it be about what would make us happiest, the ultimate issue must be what is best for Chami. Age plays a large role in such decisions as well. Chami will be 12 in a couple months, an age when many labs die. Perhaps she would just die of old age during the next year, regardless of the cancer presence. One thing we did consider was that the tumor was causing her pain, and would only get worse. With the rest of her health and energy so good it seemed worth it to give her a chance at a longer life while at the same time easing her pain, not causing her more. 

 

What is it with cancer all of a sudden: first Grandma Jackie dies of lung cancer in December, then my Dad starts radiation for recurring prostate cancer in January, and now we learn that Chami has this dreaded disease? Is there a message for me in all of this? Something to ponder during my walk this evening, that’s for sure. I head out to the Butte with a surprisingly light heart. The day’s news and body aches haven’t been able to quell the buoyant mood I’ve been in lately. I know many would say I’m in a manic phase. I prefer to think of it as an awakening from winter’s hibernation of my soul.