Where there’s hope . . .
I naturally have a positive attitude and like to believe there is always hope. Maybe I am foolish, but even if I am proved wrong, which I often am, it helps me get through the rough times. Some call it an inner strength. I think it is an inability to accept I have been backed into a corner.
Bella, my 8 year old dog has cancer. She responded brilliantly to the first treatment and her tumour dissolved entirely, but after the second treatment, she succumbed to the harshness of chemotherapy. She couldn’t eat or drink and was unresponsive to my voice. It was agony watching her, but I wasn’t going to give up.
For almost a week, I had to syringe small quantities of liquidised food into her mouth. I felt wretched with guilt. Should I have ended her pain and misery? Was I cruel in persisting with the chemo? I had to follow my gut, and it told me she would pull through.
She did. Now, two weeks after her last chemo treatment, she is eating huge amounts and is energised and happy, constantly wagging. It is such a transformation, it is difficult to believe it’s the same dog. Even the vet seemed surprised and asked, a second time, if she was eating for herself. Yes, yes, I cried.
And, to top it all, neither her tumour nor her swollen lymph nodes have returned. Finally, we are getting somewhere, and the oncologist is happy to continue treatment next week.
I’m sure it’s not always going to be smooth sailing, but I like to believe she has got over the worst. It certainly is a roller-coaster journey.
Isn’t that what makes life interesting?