Sophie’s amputation was performed at Tufts Veterinary Hospital. All in all they were good, but I the experience left me feeling a little unsatisfied. They were very professional and I knew my case was being handled by interns, residents, and surgeons, but by and large I only interacted with the interns. I’m sure they’re perfectly qualified, but it would have been nice to talk to the surgeon. They also didn’t provide me with a whole lot of information; I found what I needed on sites like this one and bonecancerdogs.org. It’s as if they’ve lost sight of the fact that what is routine for them is traumatic and disorienting for the owners. Anyway.
Before I picked up Sophie after her surgery I did as much as I could to educate myself (always my first instinct) and prepare my apartment for a tripawd. I picked up cheap carpet remnants and non-slide pads to go beneath them at Home Depot and cut them into runners to cover my hardwood floors. I bought the Dog Cancer Survival Guide and had it expedited to my house. I read all of the post-surgical recommendations I could find. Of course I also had to deal with my emotions.
You see, my military experience and life with my parents’ dogs taught me that life is finite and a dog’s life is even more so. I had been mentally prepping myself for a few years for the day that Sophie would no longer be in my life. The trouble was that I had calculated that day to be around her 12th birthday, not when she wasn’t even 9 yet. I was prepared for a slow decline, not a sudden slap in the face. I was having a lot of trouble dealing with it. The prognosis of 10-12 months with amputation and chemo on the websites wasn’t helping matters; I made the decision to amputate with possible follow-on chemo with the thought in the back of my head that she’d beat the cancer, not that I’d merely be delaying for just a short time.
I’m normally a very upbeat person, but this was just weighing me down. It’s very selfish of me, but Sophie is my friend. I live 1500 miles from my family and most of my friends are either scattered across the country or busy with their own lives. She is my constant support system; I spend the vast majority of my time with her. I am having a lot of trouble picturing my life without her. I’m just not ready. I finally decided that 1) I had to stop reading the websites for awhile, and 2) I choose to believe that Sophie will beat this and I’ll have her around for another three years. Otherwise, why was I putting us through this, and how would I get through the days?
So I left work early on Friday and picked up Sophie at Tufts. I forgot all the questions I was supposed to asked, namely when her last doses of pain medication were administered. I did remember, however, to treat her as if nothing was wrong, as I always did. We went home and she hopped right up the three small steps into our apartment! That was a good sign. Sophie went and laid down and I pretty much just watched her. That night I picked her up and put her in my bed where she always sleeps; it was a mistake. I’m not sure if the bed was too soft or if her pain meds weren’t working, but neither of us got much sleep and she was pretty pitiful the next morning. I was having the same doubts about the rightness of surgery that everyone mentions having.
But after her next dose of meds kicked in she seemed to be doing much better. She took food and water and went out to pee several times, even pooping later that evening! She continued to do well today (day 3 at home) since we upped the frequency of the meds. The neighbors have all seen her and she’s been pretty active when around them, but tuckered herself out pretty good. I noticed that she gets cold pretty easily without 1/4 of her coat. Her amputation site seems to be infection/fluid free and the bruising and swelling is going down. It’s also pretty sad to see her want to lie down on her amputation side but then not being able to because of the pain. Keeping her from doing too much is going to be a problem in the coming weeks I think.
As for me, I’m trying to keep positive and enjoy her as much as I can. I’ve moved the mattress to my futon into my living room (the only place I have space for it on the floor) and that’s where we’re sleeping for the time being. It’s a harder mattress and seems to work better. I try not to think of how she’ll be limited from now and and remind myself that I have no real way of know what her limits will be. She may be a wonderdog and be able to do almost all of the stuff we used to do, or not; time will tell. I just need to take it one day at a time and stop all the doubts/questions/thoughts running through my head. Which reminds me – I really need to get back into yoga.