The “C” word

Lately a big chunk of our household’s focus has been around Austin’s health.  How is he feeling today?  Is he sleeping more than normal?  Did he eat with his usual gusto, or maybe just 85% of his normal enthusiasm?  What’s the state of his poop?  Seriously, these are the questions that circulate around our house.

You see, Austin was diagnosed with cancer this month, at almost 14 years of age.  A hystiocytic sarcoma of the spleen to be exact.  They took out the spleen, but it’s unlikely that means it’s gone for good.  Now, do understand, Gary and I already had this conversation…years ago…about what we would do if Austin was diagnosed with cancer.  Bone cancer runs in his family, so we were prepared for this already.  And besides, we already had experience with cancer in one of our dogs.  Cole, my cocker spaniel, had a bladder tumor.  We treated with piroxicam, but otherwise let it be.  So clearly we would not pursue chemotherapy or radiation or any other such extreme measures to prolong Austin’s life just for our own benefit.

But let me tell you, until you’ve lived it, and faced that decision head on, you really have no idea what your decision will be.  Every dog is an individual.  Every person is an individual.  And we were decidedly NOT going to pursue chemotherapy, and yet, here we are, one week after Austin’s first treatment.  We THINK he’s doing well.  I’m keeping a journal.  Most days have appeared normal.  But one day he had a slightly reduced appetite for one meal, eating slower than normal.  Another day he seemed a little depressed, perhaps slightly lethargic, but it’s hard to tell with a dog that LOVES his naps, and spends most of his days snoozing away.  If these symptoms are, in fact, related to the chemo, they are mild, and do not last more than a few hours.  But it’s possible that he is experiencing some level of side effect from the chemo.

Austin is an otherwise happy, healthy guy.  While checking out other organs during his splenectomy, his vet proclaimed him to be “pristine” with “kidneys of a 4 year old”.  He goes for regular 30 min walks and forges ahead on our hikes.  He is perhaps not your typical almost 14 year old dog.  Or maybe he is.  But in either case, we just couldn’t sit back and do nothing.  So we treat.  And we ask ourselves every day if we made the right decision.  There is no wrong decision here.  And we won’t know for months or even years if we made the best one.  But I can tell you this.  You won’t know for sure what decision you would make until you are there inside of it.  That much I know is true.