Buddy

A sad day today.  After almost 14 years with our little Buddy, it was time to let him go.  Before the four of us took him to the vet, he had a breakfast of dog food and peanut butter, a bowl of shredded cheese and some Heavenly Hash ice cream.  At the clinic we spent time with him in a private room before the vet preformed the procedure.  We let him run around the room to explore and when he was done, he came and sat down beside me and leaned against my knee as if to say “Okay, I’m ready”.  So sad - we wrapped him in a blanket, gave him lots of pets and snuggles and Tyler got one last kiss from him.  A very peaceful end and a bittersweet good bye for us.  Buddy was the cutest, baddest dog around, fiercely loyal to those he came to love, but very cranky to those who he wasn’t sure about.  He was known for his “smile”, but it wasn’t to be taken for granted – it could quickly turn to a snarl for those who hadn’t “earned” his love.  Love him or not, he wasn’t a dog people didn’t notice.  We will miss him dearly.  Jacqui especially will miss her little “Nurse Buddy” as he’s been her constant companion these past weeks.

Well, now to what’s going on with Jacqui.  Thursday was the day she was supposed to see her surgeon Dr. McFadden and she was hoping to get the ok to go back to work.  Unfortunately, he had to go out of town for an emergency and her appointment is postponed until March 8 – we’re waiting again!  She is now working with the doctor’s office and is hoping to be able to get written permission to be able to go back to work before the 8^th.  She is getting bored, all her projects are done and she is ready to get back to work and move on with her life!!!   

She is able to drive again now which gives her more freedom and she spent a wonderful extended weekend in Vancouver visiting most of her many aunts, uncles and cousins.  She was also seen ordering the “Jacqui’s Spicy Grilled Cheese” sandwich at the Penny Café in LA (Lethbridge, Alberta and yes it’s named after her).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

So after her appt on March 8, the next appt will be her next checkup at the cancer clinic which will be April 22, when she will have an X-ray and checkup to monitor how things are going. 

Someone read me this poem the other day: 

I walked a mile with Pleasure

She chatted all the way

And left me none the wiser

For all she had to say

I walked a mile with sorrow

And never a word said she

But, Oh, the things I learned from her

When sorrow walked with me

Robert Browning Hamilton

 

It inspired me.  

So often during this time I’ve felt so isolated and like I’m wandering blindly in the darkness and the thought of walking in silence with “sorrow” really resonated with me.  I don’t like sorrow or darkness –I love the bright sunshine, with lots of people to have fun with – that’s just me.  

It made me wonder what I have learned or have to learn in this time.    

I kind of feel like my life “before” was a party and I was either pushed out or fell out, I didn’t leave voluntarily, but I really want to get back in and I just can’t.  In my mind I’m standing outside my old life, in the dark, with my hands and face pressed against the window, trying to get back in and I just can’t.  The light represents how I used to think, feel and believe, and I just can’t get that back. 

Normally I am scared of the dark (I always have been and I blame my sister–lol), but I don’t feel afraid.  When I was telling someone this they asked me “Is God in that party or outside in the dark” and I think He’s in both places – so both parts of my life, the old familiar and the new, very unfamiliar. 

So if I’m outside and I can’t get back in, maybe that means it’s time to take a look over my shoulder  at the darkness and take a tiny step into it to see what it has for me.  So much has been based on what I can see within the light, maybe I need to use other senses and accept the darkness and the beauty that is hidden within it.

For example: 

What might “look” like an ominous presence in a dark hallway may be a loved one with open arms and a warm hug  

What might “look” like a big rock in my path might be a porcupine waddling across – a amazing surprise but you don’t want to get too close (this actually happened to me once when I was running with my friends)

What might “look” like an large animal crouched and ready to pounce might just be a bag of garbage, not pleasant, but not a danger 

And the reality is, it never stays dark for ever – the sun will eventually rise.   

The person with the poem also told me a story of a man who was feeling like he was chasing a sunset trying to hang on to the last rays of light, he was falling farther and farther behind and he felt like giving up.  Finally he realized that he would never catch up but if he stopped and faced the darkness, he could run the other way and meet the sunrise instead. 

 

Hmmmm...more to think about....

But Today is good news

Appointment today at the Tom Baker Cancer Center – after almost 3 years, I still can’t believe that we need to go there and that we know how to get the best (and free) parking, exactly where to go in the building, what time the cookie ladies come around and the names and faces of many of the doctors and nurses.  I am a very curious person, very interested in knowing what goes on around me, I love learning new things, but these are some things that I was never, ever wanted to know.

So…Jacqui doesn’t have to have chemo!  The evidence of it’s effectiveness against Synovial Sarcoma is so vague that there is really no clear cut reason to have it or not this time.  Last time, there was no question, we had to do whatever we could to fight. It’s a big relief not to have to go through that ordeal again, but it’s not the same as last time – when we felt like it was over – our innocence is gone, our eyes have been opened, there’s a certain uneasiness, “What if it comes back?”  But as my brother in law just said in a text to me, “Of course, but today is good news!”  And he’s right!

One of our concerns going in today was that J’s surgeon had said that there was evidence that the lining of the lung was somewhat involved.  He had said that this shouldn’t make any difference in the long term but just wanted to let us know.  Our Dr today spent some time explaining what this meant and assured us that what the surgeon had told us this was true.  We talked about various medical options and the best course for going forward.  So we’re back to 3 months X-rays or CT scans

So that was also a relief, but somehow, we came home feeling very melancholy – maybe the stress of uncertainty (or maybe it is a result of eating too much junk food during the Super Bowl) – there is never really a clear cut answer, a straight path to follow, a light at the end of the tunnel. 

But “Today is good news” and really that’s all we ever have anyways - today.

So this is what we know:

-       Surgery was successful
-       No chemo
-       Jacqui can keep her beautiful, getting long, curly hair (really the most important thing!)