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.
Sounds like everything you’re thinking is pretty normal. All that stuff ran through my head when Max was first diagnosed. What I learned is that constant worrying is a waste not only of your time, but of Sophie’s. Sophie doesn’t know she’s sick. Only you do, and that’s the unfortunate burden you must bear. That statistics you read are just that: statistics. It doesn’t mean every single dog battling cancer follows what the stats say. We have dogs on Tripawds that are still here three years later, with no sign of cancer (Nova). Other dogs have lived long lives, only to succumb to something other than cancer (Trouble). All Sophie knows is that she loves you, and you love her. At the end of the day, that’s all that matters! Love up your girl every single day. I’m glad to hear your girl is back at home healing with you. Sleeping on the futon with her is a good idea; I did an air mattress with Max for about 2 weeks; I think they just like knowing their person is there next to them. Give your girl some good ear scratches from me, and keep us all updated on her progress. (And try to not worry too much!)
I definately agree that it is probably best to stop looking at all the websites out there. Just like WebMD and other sites and drive people crazy with information I am sure you are getting just as inundated from the dog websites. It seems as though the surgeon experience you described is very similar to what has happened in human medicine also, which is a shame. Don’t forget to take care of yourself as well, Sophie needs a healthy Jenn. If you need us we are here!
well, first, you’re not alone in how you feel about vet school medicine. gayle’s amp was done at UT, and maybe they have good surgeons, but we dealt with interns and students and were not satisfied with the care she received their. in our opinion, a teaching school isn’t as focused on outcome or the patient, as it’s interested in teaching…the outcome is secondary (that’s again, our opinion). our local vets have been our angels in this journey, administering chemo, acupuncture, etc… trust the vet you have a relationship with and that loves sophie like you do.
but let’s move ahead. please, PLEASE don’t let fear steal the joy you have. sophie is with you, even though the way she looks is different. she’s gotten rid of that painful leg, that’s good. it’s hard, but you need to focus on the ‘now’, that’s what our pups do…they don’t know what cancer means, they just enjoy feeling good, being with us and being true to their beings. nothing is permanent, but you can use this time with sophie to start a new journey. sophie has alot to teach you. hugs to you both.
charon & gayle
Welcome to the site no one wants to join but everyone is glad they did. You will find a lot of info and support here. If you have questions during her recovery be sure to post them in the forums as more people will see them.
Hang in there and hope her recovery goes well. We have passed our one year ampuversary with Abby (she also has OSA) and she is still going strong, even with lung mets. There can still be lots of good time left for you and Sophie.
All the best,
Jackie, Abby’s mom
All the doubts are normal. I questioned myself a lot the first couple of weeks. The first couple of weeks are hell. But Tripawds is here for some good support!
I think it is very common for all of us to feel “robbed” of the time we thought we would have together with our best friend. I try to keep the anger at bay and focus on the quality of life we have left together and making everything fun.
Sophie is a cutie pie. It is good you are trying to stay positive. We are in Mass, as well, but did not go to Tufts.
Paws crossed for a speedy recovery for her!
Nancy & Butchey
Hi there – I echo Nancy & Butchey’s comments of feeling “robbed”. Sophie is lucky to have you. JB and I do our best to keep our anxieties and fears at bay knowing that if we dwell too much on it, we’ll miss out on time we have with the time we have with Sam. Once you get through the first few weeks of hell, living in the moment will kick in and you’ll realize even more how special your time is – no matter how much you have!
We’re also in Mass but had our surgery at Mass Vet Referral Hospital and did our chemo with NEVOG. We’ve had wonderful care and are very pleased with all our specialists.
Hang in there — you’re doing great!
xoxo Sue and Sammy
Hey there, you are right! She is a wonderdog! She has so much spark and energy. Positive energy is necessary for her. Hopefully it was contained to the lower leg and all will be well! Hugs!
I know the “robbed” feeling that you are experiencing, but let me tell you something that has already been said, Sophie doesn’t know she is sick. All she knows is that the pain is gone. Unfortunately, as humans we bear the burden of knowing how crappy cancer is. Take it from me, enjoy every moment you have with her, because you don’t know- she may be like Nova and be 3 years plus without her cancer coming back. If you are constantly worrying, you won’t enjoy all the cool stuff that comes with having a tripawd. Live in the moment, and take lots of pictures.
Hang in there!
Jenna & Spirit Chili DAwg