Thursday, December 1, 2016

You think you've got problems!

I'm still feeling freaked out about Zane.  I see him with bumps and I'm sure they're cancer.  I see his eye running and there's a little bump there that seems to be flaring up again.  I think that's cancer.  I woke up this morning feeling nervous and sick.  I almost threw up as I was loading dirty clothes into the washing machine.

Yesterday, I tried to make myself look on the bright side.  Zane is not as obviously bad off as some of the dogs in the Holistic Help for Mast Cell Cancer Facebook group are.  He does have bumps, but they're small, hair covered, and not bleeding.  He's not vomiting and doesn't have diarrhea or bloody stools.  He does have occasional stomach upset and gas, but he's still eating.  Now that I've added ricotta cheese to his food and krill oil, he's practically wolfing down his food.  While I don't know if he has anything in his lymph nodes, I will say that for now, they feel normal and aren't obviously raised or hard.

And yes... he's also got his sparkling personality and occasionally will even play with Arran.  The other night, they got in a fight and, for once, Zane prevailed.  That hasn't happened in years.

I have to take him to the vet this afternoon and talk to the vet about this illness.  She didn't say much to me about it when she told me the results of the pathology report.  I had to find out about the Benadryl and Tagamet protocol myself.  I think it may be time to take Zane to a different vet before it's too late.  Not knowing the whole picture is making me feel crazy.

Anyway, I did manage to make myself feel better last night by, of all things, watching Intervention.  Seeing emotional family members and friends of people with severe addictions made me realize that having a dog with mast cell cancer isn't the worst thing in the world.  It does suck, especially since it wasn't that long ago that our old MacGregor had a spinal tumor and had to be sent over the Rainbow Bridge.  But Zane isn't ready for that yet, and may not be for a long time.

Poor Arran knows I'm anxious and upset and he's been following me around, sitting by me on the couch and snuggling with me in bed, trying to comfort me.  Zane is his usual entitled self.  He doesn't know he had a tumor removed.  He doesn't know why I'm so worried, although I'm pretty sure he knows that I am worried.

Yesterday, the boys did this.  It's been awhile.

As much as I love my dogs, I have to admit, they make me crazy with worry.  I think it may be time to take them to a more high speed vet, though.  And I should probably keep watching Intervention, to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, my problems are fairly trivial.  


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