Dealing with cancer

The last 10 days have been very difficult. As far as Christmas holidays go, this one is starting to take over the #1 spot for "Worst Christmas Ever". It is almost passing the good old Christmas of 2004 when I began my mental breakdown and period of suicidal depression that lasted, at its worst level, for 6 months, and persisted to lesser degrees for 2 years. However, and I cannot often say this! This horrible Christmas has nothing to do with dysfunctional family members! That's a first!

Abbey, my beloved furbaby, has bone cancer. Bone hemangiosarcoma to be exact. If you want to discuss nasty cancers, this one is the monster of all nasty cancers, the ring leader. It is actually a blood cancer which moves throughout the body and can affect the bones, organs or skin. With Abbey, it's shown up on his rear left tibia, right above the hock. He's got a golf-ball sized tumor there, hard, swollen. X-rays and a fine needle aspiration were done to give a diagnosis. I could have a needle biopsy done as well, but given the location and the fragility of the bone, the likelihood is that the bone would fracture.


It's a situation I hope no one ever has to go through - a pet dying well before their time. He's 6 years, 3 months and is happy and, otherwise, healthy. He ate all his breakfast and supper today, and wants to go for walkies and go out and play in the snow. He wants to run and romp and wrestle like we normally do. But I can't let him - he might fracture his leg and that would be game over.

The only solution to this disease is amputation and chemotherapy. I've chosen, for a variety of reasons, not to go this route. For one, it's not a cure. If the cancer has metastasized, amputation would only prolong the inevitable. Secondly, although I think Abbey would actually handle the amputation itself like a trooper (ie. he'd make a fine tripod), past experience has shown that he does not do well under anesthetic nor with drugs. And chemo, hell, I can't even imagine what that would do to him. Most dogs get very sick as it is. I don't think he'd do well and I can't imagine putting him through it. Lastly, the total cost for amputation and chemo is on the order of $4000 to $6000. That's not including any possible complications. My credit card is max'd out, as is my line of credit. I have no savings (trying to pay off all loans), and I don't own a house so can't get a loan. I'm a single income "parent". I simply can't afford it. Now if I knew that yes, there was a true cure out there, that he would be in my life for many more years, I would find the money. I would return my Thailand ticket and not go over to Asia. I would do my hardest to do something. But that's not the case. Increased life spans after amp+chemo are on the order of 6-12 months on average. That's not quality of life.


I have been in regular contact with the Greyhound Wellness program at the Ohio State Veterinary College. They are the experts in greyhound bone cancer and bleeding disorders. Once the fine needle aspiration was done last Tuesday, I sent all the x-rays and the samples down to Ohio via FedEx. I spent 4 nervous days waiting for them to email with results. The diagnosis that we originally had, osteosarcoma, was increased to bone hemangiosarcoma. Since then, I've been back and forth with them about what to do. However, they are pretty insistent on doing the amputation and a course of chemo. In the USA, retired racers get free chemo. For a 90 lb dog like Abbey, that's $300 per dose, with 10-20 doses. Here in Canada, we don't qualify for that program, even though he's originally from New Hampshire, because the Canadian government won't allow the USA drugs across the border. Go figure.

There are many greyhound discussion forums out there, and since bone cancer is the most prevalent cancer in greys, alot of discussion focuses around to amp or not. Alot of people go the amputation route, alot don't. I suspect that many who don't simply do not post on the forum as they feel as guilty as I feel right now. I have huge pools of guilt building up right now - that I'm a bad doggy parent, irresponsible, uncaring, horrible, evil, mean, etc. You name it, I've called myself those bad terms. I don't want my baby to die. If I could have him with me forever, I would. He's my heart and soul, my best friend, he came into my life when I needed a lifejacket and someone to teach me to be whole and happy again. But I can't put him through pain and torture of which he won't understand at all. All I can do is love him and promise him that I won't let him suffer. But the guilt!! Oh my god!! It's killing me.

I'm supposed to leave for Thailand at the end of January. I shouldn't be looking that far forward. I don't suspect that we have that long together. But I have to ask myself - am I a horribly selfish person for not canceling the trip RIGHT NOW and not going? What happens if he's still in good shape by then? Even though I know the stats for this cancer, how fast it moves, I still berate myself and ask myself these unfair questions which I know serve no purpose other than to make me feel more guilty and self-flagelate, something I have a knack for.

One thing this whole horrid ordeal has taught me is how important certain people are in my life. It's brought me closer to a number of people, let me open up a bit more. It's brought me into contact with other greyhound owners who have gone through the same experience, total strangers who are willing to open their hearts and homes to another grey owner experiencing the pain of dealing with cancer. I had an invite to Christmas Eve dinner that I never, ever expected and for which I will forever be grateful and cherish, even though I had to turn it down as I already had plans to go to Scott's.

I've never had to put a pet to sleep before. I've never had a dying pet. I don't know what to expect, how to react, what to do. The worst part is waiting. But I think waiting is a bad term. I will cherish each day I have with him, love him and cuddle him and feed him any treats he wants. I won't let anything hurt him and I will have to be strong for him and let him go when he's ready. This is the hardest thing I could do. Everyone says this is the biggest demonstration of love you can give a pet, but it's the hardest thing in the world to do because you do love them so much.