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.