Tied For First Place
At Nova’s annual check-up about two weeks ago, Dr. Wagner noticed a lump high on her snout, skewing right-of-center not far from her eye. As soon as he pointed it out, it was obvious, but up until that point I had not noticed it at all. Something about her brindle coat made it invisible, I guess. We agreed that I would monitor it and update him in two weeks. It only took one before I felt compelled to call him. She’d been sneezing a fair amount, and once produced a big goober with some blood in it. That was a enough for us to schedule an X-ray and a needle biopsy to start diagnosing what we were observing.
The word came last Tuesday that it is likely a sarcoma, and that more imaging (a CT-scan this time) would be required to understand in detail where this mass is positioned in her head, and whether it is in the bone of her skull. From there a treatment plan that would likely include surgery, radiation, and perhaps chemotherapy can be drafted. (FYI - Everything Dr. Wagner told me was reaffirmed by the Claude AI when I entered a few queries into it immediately after speaking with him. Claude estimates the cost of the treatment plan between $7,000 - $20,000.)
Having lost both of my parents to cancer, this situation feels very familiar. I’m going to meet with the doctors at the fancy corporate veterinary outfit (rhymes with “Red Bet”), but am wary of the expense of the treatment, and how much discomfort it might impose on this creature that I love so much. I can see how easy it would be to pull out all of the stops to fight the disease, so my inner contrarian kicks in to offset this urge. And my mental map has already been programmed to think that if cancer gets the drop on you, your goose is already cooked. But I want to learn a bit more before deciding on the path forward.
At it’s root, this situation is testing my theories for how I would manage my own cancer diagnosis, should I ever receive one. Under certain circumstances, I would like to think that I would have the grace to just let nature take its course. My puppy girl is 9 years old - at best having 5-6 years left in the absence of the cancer. I think the oldest dog we’ve ever had died at 12 or 13 years of age.
This situation is also testing my ability to accept things that are beyond my control, focusing instead on things I can actually impact with my efforts.
When I sweet talk her, I often tell Nova that she’s my Best Girl - but I always add the caveat “You’re tied for first place.” I have loved each of my dogs so much that it feels like a disservice to place my current dog higher in the pecking order than the ones that came before. To the extent that Nova is any better than Ella, Coltrane or Margot, it’s only because the earlier dogs trained me to be a better owner.
Nova is still 100% herself, and in no discomfort. We’ll learn more in the days ahead, and enjoy every day to the fullest. I’ll be keeping a close eye on this turtle sundae-mottled glamour queen and snuggling with her hard on the couch every night.
Sunday Supper
With one of our man-children home for Spring Break this week, I intend to make this Pasta e Fagioli to keep us all fed (I’m going to cook some tortellini separately, folding it into the bean soup for those of us who can eat gluten). This Gochugaru Salmon with Crispy Rice also looks amazing.
Sunday Music
This performance by Saya Gray at the NPR Tiny Desk is fun. Alfa Mist delivers almost an hour of their fun grooves here. Enjoy!
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Have a great week ahead! Offer support to others. Make good use of this day. And let me know how I can help.
Peace & Love,