Almost a month since our boy left us.

Even knowing the prognosis for hemangiosarcoma - that no dog diagnosed with this disease ever wins, not in the long run - it's still so hard to believe that our precious, amazing, indomitable Harvey is no longer here with us.

The connection I shared with Harvey was so strong that it still feels like a part of my very soul has been torn from my being. The pain of his absence is sometimes so overwhelming that it feels like the breath has been knocked right out of me. Waves of sadness still wash over me, usually over some small little thing like the names "Murphy" or "Taylor", two of Harvey's best dog friends. He always perked his ears and became very animated when we said those names, no matter how long it had been since he'd seen them. I know those are names I'll never be able to use for any pets we may share our home with in the future.

Not having him at the foot of our bed or being able to feel his fur through my fingers or going through our "nite-nite" ritual of his favorite tricks - the sit, lie down, crawl, high-five, shake paw and others, with no verbal command, only the smallest hand gesture on my part, makes it so hard to actually go to bed at night. So I haven't been. I can't fall asleep until I'm utterly exhausted, usually after 4 in the morning ( the time he passed away on June 26 - I don't think that's a coincidence). And then, I wrap his collar around my wrist, put his small pillow and stuffed mallard near my feet where he used to lay and cuddle with his "mega-duck", a really large stuffed yellow duck he got for Easter this year. He loved that duck and used it for a pillow often, when he wasn't chewing on it.

The night/early morning he passed, he'd had trouble breathing for a few hours. He was panting a lot, trying to relax and catch his breath. He'd had a few spells like that in his last few weeks, but would always settle in and fall asleep after a while, then be fine when he awoke.
That night, it wasn't resolving itself, though he did fall asleep for a few moments around 2am. He was laying on my side of the bed and when I tried to gently ease in beside him, he woke up and started having trouble breathing again. My head tells me that he wouldn't have slept for long, but my heart so wishes I'd just let him remain quietly in my space - just in case the rest would have helped.

After about 1/2 hour more of watching him struggle, I decided to get the Buprenex our vet sent home. It's a sedative, generally quite safe, but she'd sent it home with me to use if Harvey started experiencing pain or distress that didn't resolve itself.
Not wanting to take any risks at all, we administered just 1/4 of the dose, hoping that it would relax him enough to allow him to rest. After 20 minutes, it clearly wasn't having any effect at all, so we administered another 1/4 dose.
I kept watching and praying that it would do the trick and allow him to sleep, but he became very restless - I'm sure it's because he wanted to get up and go potty, but didn't have the strength to get off the bed. We lifted him off the bed and put him on his doggy bed on the floor, but his breathing showed no signs of improvement.

I decided that I had no choice but to give him the remaining amount left of the Buprenex, assuming it would sedate him and allow him to finally get some sleep.

Within moments of receiving the final 1/2 dose, he seemed to feel better for just a few seconds, tried to stand up (again, I'm sure he wanted to go outside and potty) and wagged his tail. Then, and the memory of this will remain with me until the day I die myself, my boy collapsed into my arms, pressed his head into my shoulder and took his last breaths, wrapped in my arms with Frank sitting close by.

The rest of that night, through those long hours until I could call the vet, I was convinced that I'd taken his life with that medication. It all happened so quickly after he had the final injection.
When I was finally able to speak with Dr. Towle, she reassured me that the medication was, indeed, quite safe and she used it for other patients when she doesn't know their history, because it is so safe. The Buprenex hadn't taken his life. As Dr. Towle explained, the Buprenex would have simply helped him sleep, if it wasn't yet his time to leave us, waking a few hours later, as usual.
Instead, it was very likely that he was going to pass that night or early the next day and, while his will fought with every ounce of energy he had to stay with us, the medication allowed his body to ease into his passing, rather than continuing to suffer through what was surely a losing battle to breathe - to live another day.

My life will never be whole again as it was the last 12 years. I know that dogs don't live nearly long enough and, if we're very, very fortunate, we may have them for a decade or more. It's never enough time. But to lose my heart dog, the little being that was as much a part of me as the air I breathe and the beating of my own heart, leaves a void that will never be filled.

We've decided to try to do something to honor his life. The thought that Harvey, center of the universe, will be nothing more than a statistic, another dog taken before his time by this hideous disease called hemangiosarcoma, is so completely unacceptable to us.
I've been in contact with the Morris Animal Foundation about hosting a fundraising dog walk next year, June 26, the day that will mark one year since this remarkable, shining light went out of our lives.
I hope I can make this happen - perhaps even make it an annual event, so that, maybe, the dollars raised in Harvey's name can bring us closer to the day when no dog - no family - has to suffer through HSA. Closer to the day when an HSA diagnosis is no longer an automatic death sentence with an unbearably short life expectancy following diagnosis.

I know, in a way, we were fortunate through our journey with this disease. Far too many families lose their pets before even receiving a diagnosis. Far too many more have a very brief time with their beloved dogs, even if treatment is pursued.
We had seven months. Seven all too short months, but seven months that allowed us to make more memories, to tell him we love him every day, to hear him snore at our feet, share cuddle time while he napped on "Daddy's" pillow , see him perk up when he heard "Murphy" or "Taylor". Seven months to hear him bark at the fence when I came home, howl with the storm sirens every Friday at 11am, wait with eager anticipation on his face for his liver treats and - what I'll probably miss most of all - soak up those times when our eyes would meet, we'd hold each other's gaze for the longest time and know, just KNOW, that the bond we had was stronger than even impending death - and to know that he loved us as much as we love him.

I can't say goodbye to my boy-o, my Mr. Man Dog, my center of the universe, my Harvey....... I'll simply have to say, "We'll see each other again, my love, my heart. And when we do, nothing will ever part us."

Harvey's gone

Still hanging in there!

This little dog is the strongest little being I know. He's still here with us, even though Frank and I were both convinced yesterday that we were saying our goodbyes.

He's still very weak but has eaten a fair portion of food and kept it down, still has color in his gums, though I'd like to see them a little more pink and, while he's sleeping quite a lot, he perks up when I come in the room and is interested in whether I brought any goodies with me.

It's so hard to imagine a single day without my boy. I know that dogs don't live nearly long enough for those of us who love them and it would be hard to say goodbye no matter how old he gets, but having even a moment of his life cut short because of this disease is so hard to accept. He's the most animated, fun-loving, happy little dog I know and to see that taken from him - this little Beagle boy who finds such joy in life - before he's ready to go, it's wrong, just wrong.

Nearing the end, I'm afraid.

It's been quite a while since my last update. It's been difficult to even think about documenting the events of the last several weeks when it's already hard enough to actually go through them. Seems the last thing I feel like doing is reliving our days in a blog when I'm so tired after dealing with the emotions all day long.

We had hoped to celebrate Harvey's 6th month anniversary of his surgery, as well as his 12th birthday, on May 26th. We were certainly grateful that he's made it this far, but unfortunately, he had another bleed on that day, so I spent the day nursing him and keeping him comfortable and warm, rather than the walk and "liver pate cake" I'd hoped to see him enjoy.

A few days later, we had an ultrasound done, which showed a lesion on his liver along with a couple of small cystlike growths on his mesentery. In all likelihood, it was the liver growth that bled, causing our most recent crisis.

Since the neoplasene is no longer working as we'd hoped, we've decided to try using artemisinin to shrink the cancer tumors. It's a promising cancer protocol that Frank's friend, Dr. Dale Guyer has seen some positive results with in his practice. Considering Harvey's current condition, it may be too late to try another treatment protocol, but he's still trying his hardest to get better, so we'll keep fighting with him. As the saying goes, where's there's life, there's hope. We've seen miracles with our boy before, so I don't want to be so negative as to lose the chance for another.

He's not really strong enough for another surgery to remove the tumor on the liver and, not knowing what else may be going on internally, we aren't even considering trying to remove these new growths. If we are going to lose Harvey soon, I want him to be at home, surrounded by love, not on an operating table at the vet's office.

Since the day of the bleed, he's gotten weaker, though he has had some good days. I've been keeping him quiet as much as possible with lots of naps and quiet time in the bedroom.

His hindquarters have gotten weak again, so that we need to carry him out to take care of his potty business. I think that shows the determination he had to walk again after his back surgery almost 3 years ago. He wasn't really expected to recover from that surgery as well as he did, but before long he was climbing into his favorite chair again, running - albeit awkwardly - and refusing any assistance from me or his doggy stairs to get where he wanted to go.
Since this recent bleed, he tries to get up, but it really takes all of his energy to do so and his back legs just aren't cooperating any longer.

I've been syringe feeding him nutritious food, but he's still happy to eat liver treats and cheese cubes and is drinking water well. He's been curious and totally engaged with the household activities, but he is requiring a lot more time to rest up after any activity at all.

We may be down to days, or even hours now, or our miracle boy could rally again - who knows. Whatever happens, the support of love of our friends has been a gift we'll cherish always. I tell Harvey every day that there are so many people who love him, so many who are praying for him and thinking of him. Such a special guy to touch so many - even folks who've never met him.

I'll update again tomorrow.........

5 Months and counting...............

Well, here we are. Two months past the prognosis given to us by the oncologist at Harvey's initial consultation.

As I mentioned in my last post, he has been coughing a bit, but that now seems resolved, so I do believe it was something making the rounds through the Bradford pack. He's still eating well, still wants to play, still enjoying outings and still very annoyed that he has to live with other dogs. :)
From all outward signs, we're holding our own against this ruthless disease.

Of course, now I've developed a cough that won't go away. I finally went to the doctor today (more accurately, Frank dragged me to the doctor today) and found out it's bronchitis and an ugly sinus infection. I wonder if I caught the "kennel cough" from my boys! LOL!

The weather has certainly helped to cheer everyone up! The last few days have been beautiful - warm and sunny. It's been great to spend time outside with the gang. I haven't spent as much time as I should on Spring cleanup yet, but have found the time for quite a few kickball matches with Max.

The youngsters, Rusty and Winston, have been doing their best to "pre-dig" holes for me in preparation of Spring planting. Unfortunately, they didn't check with me first to determine the appropriate locations for these holes, so I'll be doing some filling in before starting the planting. Oh, and some replacement of a few shrubs planted last year that they apparently felt didn't belong in the locations I chose. :)

Beautiful day to spend with dogs!

It's been way too long since my last post, but as they say, no news is good news.

It was a picture perfect day today and, with only 3 pet sits on my schedule, I was able to enjoy some backyard time with my own critters. Max and I played kickball, Rusty and Winston wrestled all over the yard, when they weren't squirrel hunting and Bubby and I (Harvey, for those not familiar with his nicknames), sat on the swing and enjoyed the sun and soft breeze. Fred, as usual, peeked at us through the dog door, venturing out only a few times to see what we were doing.

I took a Reiki I class last Saturday, so I spent some time trying out my new skill while Harv and I sat together. He seemed to relax very quickly and it made for a lovely bonding time for us. As though we could be any more bonded. :)

Harvey had a very good checkup a few days ago. He had a cough last week, which isn't a good sign with hemangiosarcoma, since common areas of metastasis are the heart and lungs. However, Dr. Towle felt that both sound clear and his pulses were strong, so it might be an allergic reaction. He doesn't cough after exertion, so that's another reason to rule out lung or heart involvement for now. And Spring is prime season for Harvey's allergies to strike.

Sure enough, when he had a coughing spell after coming home from his appointment, I gave him a Benedryl as Dr. Towle suggested and the cough stopped. Hurray! Allergies, we're used to with the boy.

Of course, now I have a cough that just won't go away.

4 months!

Although it's only 2 AM, I couldn't wait to post and celebrate that Harvey has reached the 4 month mark!
He had a check up a few days ago - doing well so far. I think we've decided to not do an ultrasound at this point, opting for periodic bloodwork and x-rays instead, unless we see obvious symptoms that would indicate an ultrasound is warranted.
We're at a point where, if we see signs of metastasis, we'd have to make a decision about another surgery and I don't know if we'll choose to put Harvey through that again. He always recovers quickly from the procedure itself, but if additional tumors are found, they would most likely be in areas that would be difficult to remove completely, most often the heart, lungs or liver with HSA. His quality of life is at least as important as buying a few more weeks or months. Considering that recovery time may be prolonged due to his overall condition, who knows if he'd bounce back as well next time and we want him to enjoy every moment of every day from now on.

But we're so grateful for the time we've had so far, and continue to hope and pray that Harvey becomes one of those exceptions we've read about on the HSA and canine cancer boards. This anniversary marks a full month beyond what the oncologist said was typical for HSA without chemo, so we've beaten that limitation.

Now on to our next milestone - we're determined to have our boy with us to celebrate his 12th birthday on 5/26. That's two months from now and will be his sixth month since the splenectomy. We will be spending a lot of time in prayer, asking for continued good days and thanking God for the mercies he's shown us through these past 4 months.

100 days

100 days - if someone had told me at the beginning of November that I'd be counting Harvey's life in days, even 100 and, hopefully, many more, it wouldn't have seemed a possibility to me.

Now, every day is a victory, another blessing to be cherished, although there's also the ever-present awareness of the fragility of those victories. Never knowing if this could be the day, or tomorrow or the day after - if we'll make the next milestone anniversary or face an unfathomable heartbreak.

I believe it's called anticipatory grief. Knowing that it's coming, but not knowing when, is always there in the back of my mind, stealing away tiny bits of the joy I have that he's still here and still feels good. I can't let myself rejoice too much at these little milestones because it could all be gone so quickly. Yet, focusing on the negative is so counter-productive when a positive attitude is one of our strongest weapons against this disease. I so want to say we're "managing through his recovery", but this disease is not one where the word "recovery" is even used. Long term remissions do happen, rarely, and we're hoping and praying for Harvey to be among those few dogs, but recovery? Not an option, according to the experts.

I guess I can best compare what I'm feeling to that split second before a car crash. You see it coming, your mind races to figure out how to avoid it, your body tenses as you try to brace for it, then there it is. Except I'm in a perpetual state of that tension as each day comes and, thankfully, passes without the crash actually happening. But I'll continue to carry that tension, if I must, if it means my boy is still here, still feeling good.

So, we celebrate. We celebrate another small victory over HSA - we celebrate and we prepare to battle hemangiosarcoma - and love our boy - yet another day.

Our First Milestone Reached!

Today marks 90 days - a full 3 months - since Harvey's splenectomy and subsequent diagnosis. We are thankful beyond words that our boy is still with us and doing well.

The oncologist we consulted after Harvey's surgery told us that the average survival time for dogs with HSA who don't undergo chemotherapy is 1 to 3 months - 3 to 6 months for those who do have chemo. While those aren't hard and fast numbers, of course, we're seeing this day as a victory for Harvey, since he's now passed that 3 month mark.

We're so grateful to have found this treatment protocol. We're both convinced that our current course is going to give Harvey the best chance possible for a prolonged survival while not compromising his quality of life to the degree that chemo could have. It's our hope that Neoplasene proves successful for our boy, not only so that we have him with us for a long time to come, but to give hope to other families who have received the same diagnosis for their own beloved canine companions.

We know that our situation could change on an dime with this disease, so we're taking each day as it comes. We're so appreciative of the prayers and support we've received from our friends, our vet team and the members of several online message boards that are helping us navigate through the uncharted waters of Neoplasene use for hemangiosarcoma, as well as the roller coaster of emotions we've had to manage since November.

We intend to love this little guy and cherish every moment we have with him for as long as we can.

Better day today!

We reduced Harvey's metoclopramide yesterday, as well as starting him back on the slippery elm bark and today he ate both of his meals. He did leave a few bites behind, but that's not at all unusual for our boy. The most important thing is that he experienced no nausea or vomiting.

We had a great appointment at Dr. Towle's this afternoon. Harvey had so much energy, he was bouncing of the walls. Flew off the table into my arms at one point, trying to squirm away from the tech assisting Dr. Towle. They finally had to take Harvey into the back exam room to get a blood sample for his superchem and CBC tests. I'm surprised they didn't have to tie him down to an exam table! We'll have the bloodwork and urinalysis results tomorrow.

Rough day today

It's been a challenging day today for Harvey. One potential side effect of Neoplasene is gastric upset and Harvey had to deal with that at breakfast. This is the first time since he began this protocol that he wasn't able to hold his food down. He does take an anti-nausea medication, metoclopramide, before every meal, but it didn't seem to help much today. Of course, he did take as many liver treats as I offered and has had good energy levels, so that's a positive. We'll see how dinner goes.

We're going to try adjusting his dosage of metoclopramide to see if that helps, but I certainly don't want to stop the Neo at this point. We've also tried Pepcid, but that didn't help much when his kidneys failed in 2006. I've read some promising blurbs about Tagamet possibly having anti-cancer properties, as well being an anti-emetic, so I'm planning to talk with Dr. Towle about that at Harvey's appointment tomorrow.

It's so important that he keeps eating, so that he can take his medications. With his history of being finicky, it can become very challenging, indeed, to find something he'll eat when he's less than interested.

Even more worrisome is the possibility that his nausea isn't related to the Neoplasene, since it can also be a sign of liver issues. We're doing a blood draw tomorrow to check his kidney and liver values and saying lots of prayers tonight that they're all within normal ranges and it's just a matter of finding the right balance and type of anti-nausea medication to counteract the emetic properties of the Neoplasene.

78 days and counting

Harvey's feeling fit as a fiddle and feisty!
Not to mention, being covered in mud from running around the backyard after all the melting snow and wet weather. Harvey loves to run around in the rain and splash in puddles.
What is it they say? It's not Spring when you have dogs - it's mud season! I sometimes regret installing that dog door - usually after mopping the floor for the 4th time in a day. :)

We found out at his vet appointment last week that Harvey has gained over two pounds. After losing so much weight after surgery and being finicky about the commercial diet he was eating, Dr. Towle was glad to see him filling out a bit. He's eating a home-cooked diet now and I think that's making the difference. Even with my limited cooking skills.

He has had some panting spells the last week or so, but Dr. Towle believes it's most likely due to some chinese herbs he's taking to help with hindquarter weakness - a remnant from his back injury two years ago. We're taking him off that supplement for a little while to see if it improves.
She doesn't feel it's related to any spread of the cancer affecting his lungs or heart, because it only happens after he's had his meds, not as a direct result of exertion. He's also very playful for about a half hour after eating - almost obsessively so - so my own guess is that one of his supplements is making him loopy. Like the second hour of a good frat party. lol!

Harvey loves his vets!

We ventured out into the frigid weather for Harvey's bi-weekly check up and acupuncture session with Dr. Towle today. He loves his outings when he can pretend he's an only dog again. And he looked really cute in his winter coat.

Instead of electroacupuncture this week, Dr. Towle injected B-12 into the usual acupuncture points. He doesn't seem to be as tired as he typically is after a normal treatment - probably the B-12 gives him an energy boost, but he's definitely relaxed and will sleep like a baby tonight! He also had a pretty extensive chiropractic adjustment from his knees to his neck. These adjustments really help his mobility and overall comfort.

He was feeling so well, we decided to stop by our primary vet's office to let Harvey say hi to everyone there. He really loves the staff at Briarwood and enjoyed visiting with Tracy and Dr. Skibbe for a few minutes.

After spending some time with me at the office, we headed home to feed the rest of the critter gang and let him finally take a nap. He's snoring away at my feet right now, so I guess we'll head off to bed soon.

Fun in the snow!

If there's one thing my dogs love (except for Fred, the Boxer), it's romping in a foot of freshly fallen snow. We still have plenty left from a few days ago and more of the white stuff came down today.

Harvey had a ball running in circles as fast as he could in snow up to his tummy. That's especially challenging for him because of his physical disability following his recovery from back surgery 2 years ago, but he doesn't let it slow him down a bit!

Max wanted to play kickball, Rusty and Winston were wrestling all around the yard and Fred, dear Fred, just kept sticking his head out the dog door and barking at us.
I'm sure he thinks we're nuts.

Sad news about a cyber-friend today

Since we received Harvey's diagnosis two months ago, we've encountered many kind, determined people who are engaged in battling this disease with their own furbabies.

Today we learned the sad news that Gussie, a beautiful Italian Spinone who has been an inspiration to us on one of the message boards, lost her battle with HSA very early this morning.

Gussie had 4 months and 12 days of good, quality time after her splenectomy and seemed to be doing very well until yesterday.  One of the very few "blessings" of this disease - for the animals, at least - is that, more often than not, the end comes quickly without a lot of pain or suffering.  We family members are, of course, never prepared for their leaving.

While Harvey is still doing well at this point, he is only halfway to the survival time that Gussie reached.  We had hoped to share our new friendship with this precious dog and her dear mom, Mickey, and celebrate many milestones with them for a long time to come.

This is a heartbreaking day for us, as it brings back into sharp focus just how dire this diagnosis is and what an uphill battle we're facing to achieve one of those remissions that happen far too rarely with hemangiosarcoma.  We are, however, determined to carry on the battle that Gussie fought so valiantly.

Rest well, dear Gussie.  Your determination and cheerful spirit will carry us forward as we battle on.  You will not be forgotten. 

 

Two Months and Counting

In just a few hours, we'll be celebrating two months since Harvey's splenectomy. That's still within the window of time for average survival rates without chemotherapy for dogs with HSA (1 to 3 months, typically), but it's two months longer than the emergency vet thought we'd have.
Harvey's doing very well, now that I'm cooking for him. Frank's a little envious, I think. :) Harv decided he didn't care for the canned cancer diet - after we bought 3 cases of the stuff, of course. It's always concerning when a cancer dog stops eating, so I tried cooking up some ground beef, broccoli and eggs and he gobbled it up. I'm alternating that with chicken and adding liver as a "dessert", so he's really happy at mealtime now.

For those who may be interested in our protocol for Harvey, he's taking:

astragalus - for immune system support
milk thistle - for liver health
essiac tea - also for immune support
yunnan baiyao - a blood clotting chinese herb
hoxsey formula - an alternative cancer treatment
dok's formula - for hind quarter weakness (a remnant of his back surgery two years ago)
neoplasene - our primary cancer treatment
electroacupuncture every two weeks

We'll have an ultrasound and x-rays done at the 3 month mark to make sure there's no metastasis going on.

Hemangiosarcoma can be a very deceiving disease. Seemingly healthy dogs can be taken very quickly with no warning, so we're still watching our boy closely for any symptoms that could indicate an internal bleed (pale gums, lethargy, fluid buildup in the chest or abdomen). As all pet-parents who've received a life threatening diagnosis with their pet, we're hoping and praying that Harvey is an exception to all the "rules" of HSA and beats the odds by a wide margin!