Sitting here at work a few moments ago, I got the call that Piper is out of surgery. “He’s sitting up and looking around,” she said.
Is that normal? Is he scared? Is he in pain? When can I see him? Should I even see him? Lymph nodes…did you check? Is he in shock? Does he seem sad? Does he know he’s missing his arm? Does he look happy? Did you take his shoulder blade, just curious? What about gabapentin? Lisa from Minnesota said we need it, so can you please…?
I think I just drove her crazy. And I’m OK with that.
It’s been such a long journey since that awful day I learned the “C” word, and we haven’t even really started. First, a bit about Piper. In 2008, when my significant other suddenly passed away, everyone said to get a dog. So I did. But first, I studied and studied and studied. I threw myself into every fascinating article about different breeds, temperaments, needs, potential health issues, personality tests, training methods, etc. In the end, none of that mattered. I ended up with the best dog I could have ever dreamed up, and then some. My best friend for life.
Piper is a 9 year old male golden retriever. A “gentle giant”, a “teddy bear with a heart”….he’s truly the sweetest thing I’ve ever known. His best friends are his remote control cars. “Buddy” is his favorite. He runs with them, and if they tip over he checks to make sure they’re alright. He carries their batteries (and bottles of water) in his backpack. He lays next to them when I’m not home. Second to that, swimming. Any water, anywhere. He’s perfectly mannered 99.9% of the time….unless he sees water. And then he’s gone. Suddenly he’s just a dot far, far away and he’s not coming back until he’s good and ready. Third, his “thing” is cuddling. No personal space, holds you all night long cuddling. And when he meets you for the first time, he will greet you by gently putting his paw on your shoulder. He’s tall….tallest golden my vet has ever seen, she said. He’s lanky, somewhat clumsy, and extremely mellow. He has more than 40 “brown bears”. They aren’t for tug of war! (And they’re not all bears–they’re just called brown bears). They are his babies and he walks around with them in his mouth all day, grooms them, sleeps with them, and will show you each one as if he’s showing you his biggest secret treasure!
Right now Piper is in the hospital getting an amputation of his front left limb with his favorite brown bear named “Brown Piano”. I am at work. A mess. I’ve been a mess since July 6. He had a very slight limp two days prior. I knew he was chasing RC cars, so I figured he twisted something. But then I saw a large lump between his paw and his dew claw. It was sudden and fast, as he had just been to the vet two weeks prior to map his bumps, and that one was certainly not there. I took him to the ER thinking he was bitten by something. I was told he had an “abscess” and asked to wait while they performed additional tests. Hours later, the abscess was now a tumor, and the tumor needed to be removed “yesterday”. But, they said it was too involved for them, and sent me to another facility an hour away. By now we were going on 14 hours between the two vets, cold and hungry. He kept my feet warm, and I tried to stay positive. Finally, I was asked to to leave him overnight so the surgeon could assess him in the morning. That morning he removed 95% of the tumor. It came back as Grade II Malignant Peripheral Nerve Sheath Tumor.
Surgeon said 50% chance it would return. It returned larger than ever, and broke apart the stitches within a week of surgery. I was devastated. But we waited two months, as we were told this cancer does not generally metastasize and so we had time. That in some cases, the tumor will stop growing and since he hadn’t limped since before surgery, we were just hanging onto hope that it would just be OK. It wasn’t though and rather quickly it started ulcerating. It was suddenly growing so fast that the bandage became too tight every 2 days, and I just knew it was time.
I’m terrified. I held it together until yesterday, when I had a meltdown and called the hotline. My two angels here, Michelle and Lisa called me and I’m really just speechless and overwhelmed with the support from these two beautiful people. Thank you, Tripawds. Thank you Michelle and Lisa. I don’t know that I’d have had the strength to drop Piper off this morning. You gave me courage and helped me understand that I’m doing this FOR him. You gave me peace that replaced the battle in my head that was destroying me. And you gave me the strength I will need to be the best Mom to him when he comes home.