“Please don’t forget me when I’m gone”
– Don’t Forget Me, Gear Daddies
“Don’t forget me when I’m gone, for heaven’s sake”
– Don’t Forget Me (When I’m Gone), Glass Tiger
“I won’t forget you, baby”
– I Won’t Forget You, Poison
“I remember you”
– I Remember You, Skid Row
“Just remember I love you”
– Just Remember I Love You, Firefall
There have been a lot of songs on repeat in my head the last couple days.
“Oh yeah, life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone”
– Jack and Diane, John Cougar Mellencamp
“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end”
– Closing Time, Semisonic
“Hold on to what you’ve been given lately”
– Hold On, K.T. Tunstall
“I won’t be the lonely one sitting on my own and sad” [oh yes I will - ed.]
– Daddy’s Gone, Glasvegas
We’ve been through quite a bit over the last 24 hours. Last night, Abby woke us up every 45 minutes to go outside (which was fine, considering the alternative). At first, I was getting impatient with her (especially after she wandered around in the back yard for 5 minutes, and then came inside to throw up). But at least I knew she was throwing up so I could let the vet know, and as far as picking her spots, she was kind enough to miss the blanket and to do it right in front of the night light, preventing me from turning on more lights and waking Tim.
The worst was when she jumped up on the love seat on the porch, tried to get comfortable, and started whimpering. I got up with her and petted her for a while, trying to console her. It’s a horrible feeling when you know your dog is hurting and there’s nothing you can do. I took the first shift, from 11:30 to about 2, then I let Tim take over.
I drove to work, got my laptop, and drove home. I rescheduled all my meetings for the day and called the vet at 8 a.m., and they told me to bring her in, which I was planning for. By the way, the radio commercial you do not want to hear on the way to the vet is Ron Schara advertising pet cremation services.
I managed to keep it together for about 5 minutes before breaking down in front of the vet tech Janet, whom we’ve known for several years. She was taking it pretty hard too. She told me she wasn’t able to administer any of Abby’s chemo because she’s expecting in January. I’m excited for her– she’ll be a great mom.
One of the other vets on staff came in to look at Abby, and surprisingly, she didn’t growl at him like she usually does (he’s taken her temperature one too many times, poor guy). He said he would run some tests and let us know how she was doing, and he mentioned that our regular vet would be in at noon. We found out that she had some elevated liver levels (typical for prednisone patients), but that her lymphocyte and white blood cell counts were OK. They were giving her some fluids, along with some things to coat her stomach.
We went to the vet’s office at 6:30 that evening. Because the chemo has been killing off growing cells, it targets things like hair, bone marrow, and the lining of her intestine. She had been having bloody explosive diarrhea all day because she was shedding the lining of her intestine. The vet tech said it sounded much worse than it was (besides the fact that it was gross and messy and smelly), and that she was feeling more shame than pain. They suggested that we keep her there for the night, being as they have industrial washers and lots of interchangeable bedding.
We went back to see her, and she was really groggy. She woke up a little more and took an interest in the golden retriever who was also in the area, so it was good to see her perk up. She’s pretty comfortable in the vet’s office, which helps a lot.
We asked the vet and the tech about our vacation, and they both encouraged us to still go. To be honest, with this latest setback, we were thinking about postponing our trip. Four days out, we’re normally all Vegas all the time, but we have a different perspective this time. And it’s hard to get excited when you don’t know if you’re going to go.
We know that’s Abby is comfortable when boarding, and we know she’s in good hands there. The vet and the tech both said that she wasn’t in a danger zone where she was close to fading away anytime during the next week, which was simultaneously frightening and relieving (frightening because it could happen sometime, but a relief because we’re not at that point). But she’s in better hands there than if we were staying home with her. They can monitor her all the time. I feel somewhat guilty for not realizing that she had diarrhea instead of constipation, because she was going outside in the dark and she left her deposits in the far corners of the yard. But I try to tell myself we did the right thing by taking her in, and even if we’d discovered it yesterday, it was better to wait and take her to the vet (where they knew her history and exactly what was going on) than to the emergency clinic, which completely stresses her out.
So on the way home, because we have a twisted sense of humor, we made up new lyrics to “Chocolate Rain.” A sample:
Chocolate rain
Explosive diarrhea leaves a stain
Chocolate rain
Walk around then it’s time to squat again
Hey, if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry, and I’ve done plenty of crying today.
Ever the comedian, our dog left a giant slime spot on Tim’s black t-shirt. He discovered it a couple hours after we left. That’s our dog.
