If you read 'Cancer- please help' then you know whats going on with my sweet girl.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013 we met with the oncology surgeon. He approved her for forelimb amputation. I didnt sleep that night. I laid in bed trying to use every yoga technique I could muster to calm my nerves. Calmness I achieved, sleep however, I did not. "It should be me, not her. What did I do wrong? Why did this happen? What didnt I do right? It should be ME! She doesnt deserve this. Please....." over and over and over again. It was like a rolodex of blame and pleading.
I saw the sun starting to peek through the windows, ever so slightly kissing the dark, making just enough light for me to make out Emily's sweet face as I crawled down on the floor to caress around her ears. I lay there silent, feeling her next to me, taking in her wonderful scent. I could only really think of one thing...I love you SO much. I sighed as I came to the realization that I was not going to sleep, in fact I needed to get us ready to go. I looked at the clock, 6:19am, one minute before the alarm was to sound. I turned it off and dragged myself to the sink to splash cool water on my face and soak my swollen fingers. Ugh...mornings are so evil to my body. Every inch of my skin feels tight and swollen. Even though I didnt sleep, my eyelids felt like Elmers rubber glue when you peel it off your project. I stood in my closet and changed outfits 5 times. Yes 5 times. Completely neurotic at this hour you may be thinking. Partially, yes. The other part was that I knew it was 6 degrees outside, I was going to be sitting in a waiting room for a long time and needed to be comfortable, and when it came right down to it, my body felt so swollen it was as if nothing fit. I settled on some comfy loose pants, a lulu bra, and a thin but oversized bamboo shirt- yes, summer attire. sigh...good thing I have a great coat. I threw on a hat not caring about the odd matted features my curls were taking on, brushed my teeth and got Em outside. Theres no fooling your best friend and life companion though- she refused to get in the car. After 4 calls and one big scoop of her butt, she was loaded in the back seat and I sat in the blaring heat in the front. I swept my arm around the back of the seat to reverse- ahhh, my back is aching for yoga and lets be real, a massage. All this stress has my body in knots. Off we go!
It dawned on me, as we drove towards the pink sky, that this must be what it feels like when you grow old with your love, and one of you ends up in the hospital. I felt so utterly, completely, and painstakingly alone in that moment. What if she didnt wake up? In my exasperation, I shunned the thought for the millionth time and spoke to Emmy about how I would be there when she woke up. I got the sense she thought I was getting rid of her. I assured her nothing could be farther from the truth, and at the red light, turned and gave her a kiss.
Apparently there's little to no traffic on a Wednesday crack of dawn drive. We got there at 7:06. Should we go in? Maybe I should curl up in the backseat with her and wait ten minutes....reluctantly and numb, we sauntered in through the ER doors. The doctors assistant, Tammy, knew from yesterday I wanted to stay with Em until they were ready for her. I sat on the floor and waited for the anesthesiologist to prep her meds and get the table ready. At this point Im nauseous. "Dear God, Please dont take her yet. Please!!"
I walk her back through the doors, letting her know Im right here, even though in seconds I have to let go of the leash and see her disappear through another set of doors. I handed Tammy the leash, gave Emmy a kiss, and went to wait.
Five long hours I sat in the waiting room. Oddly, I was alone here too. All the families that came in were either seen directly or waited outside in the corridor. I checked my phone. Mom text me. "I love you and Em." I sat there, staring at the floor and the walls, looking around at all the little details of the room. Children colorings on the wall, dental toothpaste and treats, treats for arthritis, pictures of the accomplished veterinarians and the rescued cats, a wall dedicated to the lost, soda machine (89 cents), coffee machine that dispensed hot coco too. The receptionist came in, seeing the lost in my own eyes and offered me coffee. I politely declined. She brought me a tea bag from her purse. I smiled and said thank you, grateful for a warm cup of orange spice tea. As the hours passed the staff slowly came in for their morning shifts, all very curious about why I was just sitting there, hours on end. I sipped tea and guzzled a mango kombucha. Nausea beginning to dissipate, I flipped through Nexus and a nutrition magazine I brought with me. I put them in the magazine stack after reading them both, yet retaining nothing outside of "Live a simple life", "Happiness cant be bought", and "Always eat your sweet potatoes with a little fat so that you absorb the nutrients, otherwise its just fiber." Hm, Interesting idea. I recalled eating coconut butter with mine :) I stared at the TV. The food network. Episode after episode of cheap ways to make porkchops, rice, and bacon with pancake souffles. I am baffled at the amount of butter sticks used for one meal. Maybe I could be on the food network, offer people healthy, vegan, and gluten free options to these same recipes! "Please God, let her be ok.... May this awful disease stay localized in the leg. Let them get it all. Give her another 5 years. Please. Please dont take her yet." Tears stuck in my throat. I waited....
I saw some interesting people this morning. All walks of life. People happy, people sad, drunk people, the old, the young, but mostly, the stressed out. I listened to tones of voice, I watched the body movements through the glass doors, realizing I could tell their story through the way they stood or the way the doctors would approach them.
One lady, Id say in her 70s, asked me if I would make her a cup coffee. As it was filling the cup, she leans in and says, "Do you have any bourban? I asked them but apparently they dont offer that here."
"No maam I dont."
A gentleman, overweight, balding, nervous, makes himself a cup of Jo. He has a mastiff at the end of his leash.
"What a pretty boy!...er girl"
"Yea, a girl"
"Is she ok?" I notice she looks a little swollen- "Is she in heat, getting spayed?"
"NO! Shes perfectly fine!"
"Oh I was just curious why she was here. Shes very nice."
"Its her 2 year checkup."
"How old is she?"
"Two years."
"Oh so shes got another year of growing!"
He exclaims in a very haughty voice, "NO!"
"Oh well most dogs grow up for 2 years and then out."
"She is NOT fat!"
"Oh no no, I mean they fill out into their bone structure."
He turns on his heel and walks off.
The K9 sherif is in. He tries to talk to a 20yr old at the coffee machine. She ignores him and he walks away.
"Well they took her in....The scan didnt show anything thats why we're here....I WANT TO FIX MY DOG!" A tall man yells into the phone.
Vet techs come and go, filling their coffee, upset about the lack of hot chocolate available. I watch the service man come in hours later to fix it. Three ladies line up for their fix.
So many different people. So many personal stories. I am numb. I just sit there and watch. It feels like Im not even there until someone asks me something. Tick tick tick...I hope those people find their lost pets. Im so glad Em is microchipped. I reminisce about the day she jumped out my window and I was having a panic attack over the possibility of losing my baby girl.
Finally her surgeon comes out. All went successful. I can see her in about 90 mins when she's awake.
I zone out for that time. I have no idea what happened outside of my fascination and slight grossed out feeling over all the butter this woman is using in her "meals". I didnt even notice that he was standing beside me, "Ready?" I leap up out of my melancholy fear chain, grab my things and follow him through those same doors where I left her hours ago. Life is moving so fast around me and yet my insides feel like thick molasses. He tells me to be prepared for a shock.
I stood there, five feet from her cage, Oh. My. God. I froze in shock, in horror, and disarray at seeing her with only 3 legs. She looked so long all stretched out and yet so frail. Get it together Channing. Something in my mind snaps. I look at the Doctor, "Can I touch her?" "Yea yea, just make sure she doesnt try to get up." I rush to get my hands on her. Her eyes open more and she starts whining and shaking her tail, thump thump thump on the tall stainless steel wall of her cage. She is thrilled to see me.
"Hi baby. Hi honey. Im so proud of you! Im so proud of you. Youre so strong. My perfect angel. Yes yes Im right here. I told you Id be here. Mama never leave her girl. I love you Emmy. I love you SO much!"
I stroke her face and kiss her lips. I tell her to stay calm . Five minutes is my time. I hear the vet say something about how impressed he is about her responsiveness to me. If he only knew our bond. He squats down beside me and I knew that was my cue to leave. I told her to sleep and that Id be back later. Gave her another kiss and stood up. I didnt really hear what he said. He mustve known because he repeated himself a couple times. Yes, yes I want to come back later. Youre pleased with how smoothly surgery went. Ok great. "Thank you" I say and I walk out the door. My hand is shaking as I grab the car door handle. Its 1:00pm. I sit in the drivers seat, turn the car on, and then, I lose it. I sob into the steering wheel. I dont know if it was the shock or the joy that she is ok, awake and whining for her mama. Maybe just the stress of it all. I drive home to get some food and take a shower, forcing myself to be preoccupied with something for a few hours until I can return to my girl.
I watch a movie, do some laundry, tick tick tick. Time seems to drag in these moments. Finally its 5pm! It takes me an hour. Im practically falling asleep at the wheel. I havent slept yet, close to 24 hrs. I sit in the parking lot, heat blasting, and close my eyes thinking I could get a little 5-10 nap in before I go into the hospital. No avail. I pull the keys and step out into the cold air. Normally a part of me would bitch about the cold nipping at my face. I walk up to the receptionist, ask to see Emily, and within moments Im walking up to her once more, this time, not so shocked, only filled with love and the intense desire to hold her in my arms.
She is obviously in pain, whimpering. I draw her big beautiful blonde head into my lap. It feels like forever until they finally give her a Fentenal drip. She quiets.
"Hows my perfect girl?"
"What?! Do you see what they did to me? Perfect? Mom, where is my arm?! Its gone!! Im not perfect anymore. Look at me! Dont you see this?!"
"You are still perfect. You are still beautiful. We are going to get through this together."
The wild in her eyes calms, she puts her head back in my lap and licks my hand. She knows I mean every word of it.
I take the time to sing to her, massage her back and legs, look at the incision, and well, just be there. I overhear the techs commenting on my being there for so long. I dont care. I may be crammed into the crate with her but Im out of their way and Id sleep there right beside her if I could. I see three other families come in to see their pups. They stay maybe 5 minutes. No wonder the techs cant believe Im still there. 90 minutes pass and I give Emmy one more goodnight kiss.
"Ill see you in the morning honey and then we can go home. You have a good night and I promise we will go home."
I walk back out in the frosty air, blare the heat, and cry all the way home. Nightmares of the vet calling with bad news, but at least, finally, I slept.
8:45am on the dot and the doctor calls, sounding ever so pleased. She slept through the night and I can pick her up at 1130am. Wahoo!! I eat, shower, gather all the funds everyone has so graciously donated and go get my baby! I count each individual bill, my heart skipping a beat for gratitude. I recall Monday nights yoga donation class for her. I dont know that Ive ever cried tears of deep gratitude before, and a smile spreads across my face. Such a feeling of love.
She is so excited to see me. We talk about her discharge papers and the rehab I need to go through with her. I take her leash, with the doctor holding onto her harness at her back end. She is so happy, she practically races to the car. Again, Doc is pleased with her attitude and mobility. He explains how to put her in the car and then I freeze. Im overwhelmed. How am I going to take care of her? How am I going to teach her how to walk? What do I do if she falls? How will I know what too much swelling is? Can she overdose on pain meds? I am freaking out and just staring at the 2 doctors. One of them waves his hand in front of my face.
"Well, we're gonna go...."
Somehow I snap to, give them each a huge hug and they smile, somehow knowing that I will be ok.
I sing Tiny dancer to her on the way home. We get home and get situated. Shes wobbly but with help Im confident she will be ok. My back tweaks each time I lean over to hold her harness. I dont care. Id give my life for her, whats a little backache. Ill get a massage when its all over. We walk slowly around a little corner in the backyard where she can potty. She in a little pain but lets me do her physical therapy and promptly falls into a deep sleep. We have a nice evening and I kiss her a thousand times, telling her how much I missed her and am so happy she is home. It was way too quiet in my house without her presence, gentle breathing, and morning wake up kisses.
I feel anxious, like there is much to be done but I dont know what. I organized things to make the space easier for her navigation and made her a bed, I got meds, food, and supplement situated. My friend Becky even bought her a food/water bowl lift so she wouldnt have to bend down so far. It took a few hours but I finally settled. Becky stayed with me and made sure I ate. She helped me tremendously. Being calm and happy with her helped Emily be calm and happy too :) Its amazing how you just lose yourself in the chaos sometimes....
She didnt sleep last night. She was up and down and pacing around so much it got to the point where I stopped leaping to her aide. Somewhere around 5am I took her outside, gave her a pain pill, and snuggled up on the floor beside her. Finally she fell asleep and I climbed into bed. Nightmares of thick black clouds entering my body. It horrified me. I was up at 8am with her. Potty, food, meds, PT.
Around 930a I decide to take her harness off. She was fine pacing around the room early this morning. WOW! It was a huge leap in her recovery! Emily followed me around the house, smiling and doing a little trot outside. We laid in the sunshine today, and I cleaned the house. Mom and dad came over later this afternoon to see her. She was still getting up and walking around great! :)
My dad was in the shock phase when he saw her. I think she thought she did something wrong because he just stared at her instead of his usual jovial "Emmy!" He sat down next to her where she put her head on his lap and they both took a little snooze until it was time for her afternoon PT session. He was happy she was getting around but verbal about his upset over her 3 legs. I told her she was perfect as she hid between me and my mom. I gave my dad a hug and said,
"Think of it this way dad. How would you respond if it was me?"
He hugged me tighter and shed a tear, then bent down and scratched Emmys head, telling her it was going to be ok.
We are curled back up on the floor again tonight. She so desperately wants to lay in bed but I cant risk her wanting to hop down in the middle of the night when Im asleep. No jumping on/off furniture for a little while. My back whimpers at the thought...but I dont care. Ive got a bunch of pillows we can snuggle up in and as long as we have each other, well thats all that really matters right? Emily is recovering nicely and Im very pleased with her progress. The vet said it would be highly unlikely that she would adapt overnight. This proud mama cant help but feel like laughing...if only they knew my girl. She's gonna prove them wrong every chance she gets. From being oh so responsive to me, to jumping up and getting along just fine on 3 legs in lickity-split. We get the results back from the leg biopsy next week. Ive got my fingers crossed shes going to prove them wrong there too. Maybe, just maybe, it isnt cancer...or it is and they got every last cell. My baby girl is an anomaly alright. You just wait and see. We've got a love bond like no doctor has ever seen. And all you need is love right?
