PTSD

"You're not the same as you were before. You were much more muchier.  You've lost your muchness." ~ the Mad Hatter to Alice in "Alice in Wonderland"


On Sunday I found a reddish, purplish* lump on Asa's chin (do dogs really have chins?  I guess it's under his mouth and above his neck), which I thought might be a metastasis. Sure, he's a lumpy, bumpy old man, but I've never seen a reddish, purplish one before.  It must be related to his blood-based cancer, right?  I mean, what other reason could there be for a reddish, purplish* lump?  (* Reddish, purplish is my scientific description)  And I'll admit, I've researched his cancer online many, many times over the past 20 months... and what do you know, the low-res pictures of a skin hemangiosarcoma look a lot like his lump.  Or a million other things... Armchair quarterbacking seldom pays off, kids.


Convinced he was going to collapse on me that very day thanks to a 0.5 cm bump, I called the vet school's emergency weekend number, AND I used his oncologist's personal email address to show her a picture.  Overreact much??  I've probably become that annoying OCD client they dread.  But hey, MY dog is the one who has outlived expectations, so I'm ok with being the crazy lady.


Sidebar - as of today, HAPPY 20 MONTHS CANCER-FREE, ASA!!

(Photo by Alecia Lauren Photography)

So I was freaking out and decided to take him to the vet school 1st thing Monday morning. I figured we had 3 potential situations here: 

1. It's nothing and I'm freaking out for no reason (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE)
2. It's a small hemangiosarcoma of the skin and can be removed by simple surgery 
3. It's a hemangiosarcoma metastasis and has internal friends, which could be a dealbreaker

Fast forward.  Yes I overreacted.


They're 100% sure it's not a hemangiosarcoma skin tumor.  Apparently it looks nothing like that, despite my extensive "knowledge" from low-res images on Wikipedia :)  They're 99% sure it's not cancer at all, but since it was irritated and inflamed (which can mask cancer cells), we have to go back next week for another test just to make sure.  I get the honor of putting warm compresses and Neosporin on his chin twice a day until then (not easy with a dog who doesn't like to do anything new).


I'm so relieved.  And I'm also ok with overreacting.  Better safe than sorry, though my blood pressure probably doesn't want another hit like that anytime soon!
Tell me about your experience:

1. Do you get unnecessarily or irrationally worried about little things related to your pet's health?  More so because they've had cancer?  
2. Do you try to armchair QB your pet's (or child's) health?
3. Have you ever successfully armchair QB'd your pet's (or child's) health?

I have cancer too

Got an unpleasant unwelcome unexpected call from my dermatologist this morning.  My run-of-the-mill appointment last week yielded an unfortunate result - I have skin cancer on my forehead.

"Pre-cancerous?" I asked.  "No, it's already cancer, but it's common and straightforward to treat," she said.

In the cancer olympics, this situation wouldn't even make the practice team.  It just needs to be addressed before too much time passes.  I'll have a little outpatient surgery in a couple of weeks, and hopefully the worst case scenario will be a small scar and a lifetime of annual dermatology checkups to dread look forward to.

From my perspective, this is fair.  This is karma.  I'm fair-skinned and freckled, yet I have spent many happy days springs, summers, and falls soaking up rays and enjoying my childhood and young adulthood at the beach, river, tennis court, and in the stands at baseball games.  I knew I didn't wear enough sunscreen, and I allowed the burns.  I deserve skin cancer.  Cause and effect.  The punishment fits the crime.  And as a bonus, an unpleasant day of minor surgery will hopefully be the extent of my penance.  It hardly seems appropriate to call it the c-word.

I can't help but contrast it with my Asa's situation.  His diagnosis was dramatic, preceded by a violently painful day, and has culminated in a series of monthly pokes, prods, and tests.  No easy out for him.  And not his fault - he's not even capable of making bad decisions.  Not fair.  I guess that's the cruelty of real cancer - no matter if the victims have 2 or 4 legs.  It takes no prisoners, and it often isn't thoughtful enough to identify itself early and accept defeat peacefully.  (Disclaimer - I know that skin cancer is often "real."  I just wouldn't classify mine as "real."  It seems trivial compared to what others are going through)

I have no happy wrap-up for this post.  I'm tired of cancer.  Cancer sucks, and if you're reading this, you can probably relate.  It isn't fair, many forms aren't preventable, and it often isn't diagnosed until it's too late.  Including hemangiosarcoma.

But realizing (today for the first time) that his cancer isn't fair or preventable and that it often isn't easy to diagnose was actually eye opening for me about Asa.  I just now realized I wasn't a bad mother for not seeing the signs earlier.  I didn't fail my dog by not recognizing he was sick until he collapsed in my kitchen.  And it wouldn't have made me an evil person if I couldn't afford (financially or emotionally) to go forward with the surgery, recovery, chemo, and ongoing treatment.  While medical philosophy regarding humans seems to be focused on keeping someone alive at all costs, veterinary medicine seems to consider comfort, quality of life, and other factors when deciding treatment or non-treatment for our beloved animals.  Does that mean we have the option to take the easy way out with our animals, or does it mean we can evaluate a holistic set of needs when deciding how to handle a bad diagnosis?

Tell me about your experience:

1. How would you describe the word "fair"?  Is that even an appropriate standard to judge life events?
2. Did you feel guilty about your dog's cancer?
3. What advice do you have for others just finding out that a loved one has cancer?