Day one of chemo

Star had her first chemo treatment a few days ago. Elspar and Vincristine. And she’s on the requisite Prednisone. No side effects so far. In fact, she’s been her ole perky self, as perky as a basset hound can be. It’s as if life rewound a few months.

I know I’m being hopeful. I just can’t accept or want to deal with the fact that she might die in the next year. As I told a coworker this week, I’m better at distancing my feelings from the situation than some pet owners I know are. Had lots of practice over the years.

Anyway, Star’s getting plenty of attention these days–more walks and playtime, delicious canned food (versus the old Iams chunks) , sleeping in the bed. We’re making her last year extra special.

Deciding on Chemotherapy

Bill and I waited several days after Star’s diagnosis to even get to the chemo discussion. It was simply too painful to think about let alone discuss. I had so many reservations.

– At 12, Star only has a few more years to live anyway. The chemo typically extends a dog’s life a year to 18 months in the case of lymphoma. But I’ve read of dogs living 3, even 5 years more after chemo.

– She already has degenerative disk disease, which flares up every 6 months or so. A short-term dose of Rimadyl or Zubrin treats it well, and she’s back to normal again. I do worry about the condition worsening until she has to be carried around in a sling.

– Are we considering chemo for her welfare or for our own? Are we doing it for her or us? I can’t help but think practically on this one, but I’m not really sure.

– Emotionally, the chemo seems to be the equivalent of slapping on a bandaid and slowly ripping it off. Will Bill and I be able in perpetual mourning during this last year, or will we be able to enjoy Star while it lasts? Why delay the inevitable?

– Am I completely detached from my emotions and would rather take the easy way out — euthanasia?

So after a painfully honest discussion of these issues and more, Bill and I decided to go through with the chemo. Overall, Star’s been in good health, except for the occasional back problem. During treatment, if her health deteriorates for whatever reason, we’d have no choice but to have her put to sleep. I dread that day. Here’s to hoping it never comes.

Next Tuesday…day one of chemo.

Star’s diagnosis

My 12-year old basset hound named Star was diagnosed with lymphoma a few weeks ago. She had stopped eating and become extremely lethargic. What little she did eat came up right back up. Star has always been a trim basset hound, but she soon looked anorexic. Imagine…you’ll be happier. An anorexic basset hound. A lethargic, anorexic basset hound. She was truly pathetic.

After spending hundreds of dollars on tests, we were told that a segment of Star’s small intestine had thickened and very little food could get through. They had to do surgery. Surgery led to biopsy, biopsy led to diagnosis of lymphoma, a slow-dividing lymphoma.

I’m honestly still in shock. This isn’t happening to me! I’ve had Star since she was a puppy, and she’s really the third member of the family. She’s just like a person with her own language, moods, expressions, and routine. I’ve never thought much about her not being in our lives. Life without her is unfathomable.

So the next steps…decisions about chemotherapy and care. More about that later.