I’m not so good at saying goodbye. I’ve had some hard goodbyes in my life…some expected, some unexpected…but they are all hard.
We received confirmation this afternoon that our dog, Mugsy, has terminal cancer. We’ve been doctoring her for two months trying to determine what’s wrong with her. She’s been poked and prodded and medicated and yet she continued to grow weaker. After her last visit to our local vet, he suggested that she have a biopsy. We were so uncomfortable with this as it seemed that we were putting her through something without having any comfort that they knew what they were looking for. I suggested to my husband that we take her to a vet specialist for a second opinion before we just have her opened up. Great decision. Sad decision.
I spent the afternoon yesterday at the vet. I have to say, we – Mugs and I – were treated with the utmost compassion and respect. We first met with Joe, a vet technician, who took a history and let me share my worries and concerns. I was already in tears as I shared our concerns over her inability to jump and difficulty in walking. When I told him that I didn’t think I could watch as they examined her because I couldn’t listen to her pain, he assured me that he would take good care of her when he brought her back to the examining room. As he took Mugs away, he said that the doctor would be in to talk to me after the exam.
Dr. Janice Buback was Mugs’ doctor. She came in and explained what her exam all entailed and what her findings were. She told me that Mugs had strong bones and the preliminary exam showed her to be healthy looking. She then examined her mammary area and stated that she was swollen. She also shared that in doing another exam, Mugs had built up tissue near her spine – not a good sign. She suggested that we do an aspiration of her mammary gland, a chest x-ray and an abdominal ultrasound. These tests would be performed to confirm her fear that Mugs had inflammatory carcinoma of her mammary glands.
You know what really sucks about all this other than just the worry and concern for your pet? The cost sucks. We spent a pile of money with the local vet trying to determine what’s going on Mugs and we were no closer to an answer than before we brought her in. Dr. Buback was extremely thorough and understanding as she laid out the menu of diagnostic tests and I gasped at the cost. The office call was $80. The aspiration was $150. The chest xray – $230. The ultrasound another $350. I was sitting there trying to figure out if we could afford to find out if our dog was going to live or die. I asked Dr. Buback if she could wait another 10 minutes when my husband would call from his break at work so he knew what we were talking about. She kindly told me that she could wait and would be happy to talk to Richard when he called.
Richard called, talked to Dr. Buback and then she handed me the phone. I told him the cost and I asked what to do. He said, “We need to do whatever we can to find out if we can help our girl.” I cried. I cried for my husband. I cried for myself. I cried for our puppy. And I cried when I told Dr. Buback to do the tests.
She came back after 15 minutes or so with her laptop in hand and showed me the chest xrays. I saw the spot before she even pointed it out. She then switched to a view of the other lung and I saw two spots. She pointed them out and said that she was concerned that it looked like there had been metastasis. She said that she would go back now and do the aspiration and would hope that they could get a good sample. After the aspiration was completed, Dr. Buback returned to the room to say she got a good sample and the cells appeared to be clumped with irregular nuclei. Not what you’d want to see. She was going to send them out and we’d have results within 24-48 hours. She said that we should hold off on the ultrasound as the sample may give us an answer, which would make the ultrasound unnecessary. Mugs was returned to the room and we stopped at the desk and paid the $485 charge and we headed home. When my hubby got home from work, he had tears in his eyes and we sat together holding hands and gently talking about the inevitable.
I got the call from Dr. Buback call around 4:00 today. Our Muggers has inflammatory carcinoma. They could do surgery to remove her mammary glands, but the cancer would return quickly. I knew all this before she told me. I knew that we were going to have to figure out how and when to say goodbye. Dr. Buback prescribed pain medication and told us to love and spoil our puppy. She told me to call her with any questions or concerns and then to call when the quality of life was no longer there and we would have her euthanized. What a crazy thing to talk about…to even think about…to have to decide.
How long does she have? That probably to some degree depends on us and Mugs. She just stood up and moaned. It’s hard for her to get up and settle back down. I just went over and lay down next to her and as she nuzzled her nose into my chest, I could feel her tremble when she breathed in. When will we look at each other and know?
Mugs is our puppy…our girl…Miss Pees-a-lot. She has been my friend, my confidante, my belly warmer on a cold winter’s night when I crawled into icy sheets as she curled up and pressed herself against my belly while Izzy curled up along my back. She and Izzy are there when I come home to an empty house at night. They give me reason to talk out loud. They keep me company.
This will be a hard goodbye.
weigh in on life 