The Last Day of Chemo

She did it!! Jenna made it through an entire 6-month chemo protocol, and she is still in full remission! Our vet says that Jenna is the only patient she has ever had who has successfully completed an entire chemo protocol. She is also very optimistic about our chances of a long remission. So here's to the Bear, and to many more lymphoma-free years!

Chemo Week #22

Whew! Have I been negligent! I just changed jobs, and in all that hubbub, I ignored Jenna's blog. First thing's first: Jenna the Tank is still bashing through chemo without slowing down. Since I last blogged, she's had 2 treatments and continues to have no adverse effects. We have 2 more treatments left, and then as long as she stays in remission, we only have to go to the vet for monthly checkups. Going to the vet once a month feels like an outlandish fantasy right now, but with things going the way they are, it just might come true.

I guess we must be starting to look tattered and gaunt, because the vet charged us $12 for chemo this week. Thus, hubby took our car to a mechanic today, and was pleasantly surprised to find out that it doesn't need as much work as we thought it did. (Well, he thought it did. I don't fix cars. I just drive them until the wheels fall off. But still, yay!)

February 4th was the 1-year anniversary of Harlem's death. I can't believe a year has gone by already. I don't think I miss him any less; I guess it's just that the edges aren't as jagged and raw anymore. Mostly I can think of him without crying, as long as I don't think too hard. But I miss him all the time. I think about him every day, and I still talk about him a lot. I can't remember the smell on the side of his nose exactly, but I remember the exact feeling of his silky ears and the weight of him leaning on my legs, and the way he would hop on the spot with his toes spread out when you asked him if he wanted to go for a walk.

I think I will always miss him, but I'm glad to know that my memories of him won't fade with time. And as silly as it probably is, I do feel like he's out there, at the dog park where I spread his ashes - in the grass that will come up in spring, and the trees that will bud, and the wildflowers that will grow by the riverbank. We're all made of the same recycled, billion year old carbon, right?

Chemo Week #18

On Wednesday Jenna was treated with doxorubicin, the drug that supposedly causes all the side effects for which chemo drugs are notorious. Jenna is totally oblivious, though, and is bouncing off the walls in the absence of her usual off-leash walks. The vet says we aren't supposed to take her to the park for 72 hours after chemo, and we really do try to be obedient. I think it's as much for other dogs' protection as her own - apparently her saliva, urine and feces are, like, radioactive or something. We're not even supposed to let her lick us, but we do. I figure if she can have this stuff in her veins, it's not gonna kill me to have it on my hands for a few seconds.

So until tomorrow night, Jenna will just have to chill in the house. She lives a life of extreme deprivation, as you can see.

Always Get Insurance

I did something foolish today. I added up all of our vet bills from the day Jenna was diagnosed with lymphoma to the present. And I thought, well, what the hell, the blog is supposed to be about sharing information about lymphoma, so ... I'm sharing.

Four months of chemo, plus accompanying medications and bloodwork = $6045.63

Granted, we do still have 5 more treatments to go. The chemo treatments average about $400-$500 a pop. Sometimes it's better (about $100 for the cyclophosphamide weeks) and sometimes it's worse (about $700 for the doxorubicin weeks). Bloodwork-only weeks run up just a painless $90. Sometimes after these weeks we start getting wild ideas about purchasing groceries or getting our car's shrieking brakes fixed.

We do not have veterinary insurance, because we are idiots. By the time it crossed our minds that coverage might be a good idea, both of our dogs were already churning out lamenesses and rare diseases as fast as veterinary medicine could cure them. No insurance company in their right mind would have us. As it is, I have this irrational fear that any future dogs we have will be refused insurance based on the medical records of our previous dogs.

But this is what money is for, n'est pas? For about $1500/month, we are keeping our dog alive - healthily, happily, and energetically alive. Will this delay some of our financial plans? Yeah. In 30 years, when I look back at this, am I going to say to myself "jeez, I wish I'd just put the dog down and saved that money for a mortgage down payment"? No, I most assuredly will not.

Just the same, I advise all new owners to take out insurance the instant puppy comes home. We're extraordinarily lucky that we are in a position to pay for this. If this had happened a year ago, I really don't know what we'd have done. Imagine having to euthanize a beloved family member only because you didn't have the money to save her?

Chemo Week #16

Yesterday marked week #16 of Jenna's chemo protocol - vincristine this time. We have 5 more treatments to go. Jenna "the Tank" is fine, as usual, so there's not much to report (thankfully).

I am carless this week, as hubby is out of town and has taken our only set of functional wheels, so we made arrangements for Jenna's grandpa to deliver her to the clinic and collect her when the chemo was done. He managed the whole process like a seasoned dog owner, and is, I think, well on the way to getting a furry friend of his own. We just have to convince grandma that this is a good idea. I think grandpa and I have decided that a nice yellow Labrador would be just the thing. Isn't that right, Mom-in-law? ;)

A New Year

Happy new year everyone! We are so thankful that Jenna is still here, and still hale and hearty as we begin the new year. She did great over the holidays, and survived all the visiting and the endless goodies with energy and appetite to spare. She met the cousins' new baby, endured an entire 24 hours with my sister's crazed one-year-old Lab/Beagle, and stole and devoured an entire gingerbread cake, the only consequence of which was a prolonged bout of gag-inducing flatulence.

Next week she's scheduled for her week 16 chemo treatment, and we will be able to celebrate 4 whole months of extremely high-quality life with lymphoma. Of course we're grateful for whatever time we get with her, but the way things have been going ... well, it tends to make you pretty hopeful. So here's hoping for a healthy 2009 for Jenna!

WHAT.THE.HELL.

Ok, so today was the craziest, most horrific day out of all the crazy, horrific days Jenna has had in her near-death-experience-filled life. This morning she was scheduled to go in for chemo as usual. My husband took her to the clinic as usual. He started to unbuckle her collar in order to hand her over to the vet tech - as usual. In the instant that he loosened the buckle, Jenna suddenly wrenched her head back, pulling herself free of the collar, then bolted for the door. Somehow, in her adrenaline high, she managed to shove both the interior and the exterior doors open herself (they are heavy doors), then bolted across the busy street, with my husband and a clinic staff member hot on her heels. To their horror, she then disappeared under a one-tonne truck and took off at a mad gallop out the other side.

This happened at about 9 AM. My husband called me at work, and I left to help him look for her. We spent the rest of the day driving up and down every street and trudging around every park in the vicinity, calling her name and interrogating pedestrians and the postman. By the time it got dark, we hadn't seen a sign of her since some guys reported seeing her at about noon, so we checked in at the pound and then decided to go home to start phoning vet clinics, posting internet ads, and printing Lost Dog posters. Then, just as I was getting ready to take my posters and head back to the area where we lost her, we got a phone call from the clinic. A good Samaritan had brought a dog that matched her description to the pound. Anne, one of the receptionists at our vet clinic, hightailed it to the pound to pick her up, telling us to meet her at the vet clinic. We had no idea what kind of shape Jenna was in, as my husband and a vet tech had actually witnessed Jenna getting hit by a truck, not to mention that she'd been out all day in minus 16 degree weather.

Our vet, who had waited around after her shift was over, came out to examine Jenna right in the waiting room. There were no broken bones, no collapsed lungs, no frostbite, no abdominal bleeding, no nothing. The damage? A broken nail and a bit of a stiff hind end, which is more than likely due to the fact that she was running all day. To top it all off, her lymph nodes are still fine. The vet decided to put off chemo until the weekend to give Jenna a chance to recover from her ordeal.

I know this sounds like I'm making it up. I can't believe it myself. And I can't even express how grateful I am that she's alive, that she's safe, that she's home. I also can't believe how many people came out in force to help us look for her, including a complete stranger who witnessed the accident, drove up to my husband, shouted "get in!" and then proceeded to drive him around the area for an hour looking for our dog. And to whoever saw a lost dog out in the cold night and made the effort to catch her and drive her to the pound instead of leaving her there, I hope karma finds you.