Monthly Archives: February 2012
Do we pay enough attention to the state of our internal organs? If we could see what was going on, would we do more?
Imagine if our liver and kidneys were as visible as our skin. Would we not try to improve its appearance, even if it was only for vanity’s sake? Our organs are out of sight, but they should not be out of mind.
I have been pondering this for two reasons. Firstly, I am involved in a writing project regarding kidney transplants, and secondly, my delightful dog, Bella, has cancer and is on chemotherapy.
As the regular readers of my blog will know, Bella was diagnosed with a lymphoma just before Christmas. The cancer was very aggressive and took hold very quickly, so we put her on chemotherapy. With dogs, it is usually without complications, but she very nearly died.
She suffered from Tumour Lysis Syndrome, which can happen when the cancerous cells dissolve into the blood stream and are not dissipated quickly enough. It was touch and go for a week, but thankfully she pulled through and is now back on chemotherapy and doing excellently.
Dogs with lymphomas are never truly cured and often die from organ failure. So I have put together an assortment of remedies to keep her in full working order. These are her supplements for two days.
She has turmeric, garlic, kelp, Q10, calcium, omega 3, multi-vitamins, arginine, glutamine, red clover, dandelion, milk thistle, ginger, ginko biloba . . .
No wonder she has the vitality of a pup!
I wonder if my organs are as clean. I very much doubt it.
Sometimes I stop to consider how lucky I am. Naturally, there are days when I feel to be the unluckiest person alive, but there are times when I think I am blessed. I enjoy those days the most.
I feel lucky right now. If you’ve been following my posts, you’ll know my dog, Bella, has cancer – a lymphoma. She’s had one hell of a fight. Not only with the cancer, which is one of the most aggressive as far as lymphomas go, but after having a very rare and life-threatening reaction to the chemotherapy.
She came through it, and so we decided to try again with the treatment. If we didn’t, more than likely, her cancer would return and she would die within weeks.
My heart was pounding and clarity in my head replaced with fuzz, as I waited for Bella to return home from a 40-minute chemo session. After the last treatment, she had to be hopitalised and didn’t eat voluntarily for a week, so I had every right to be worried.
So how would she cope? Would we lose her this time?
Hell no. The first thing Bella wanted to do, when she rushed into the house, was eat. Yes eat! And she did exactly that.
No side effects, whatsoever!
So I feel pretty lucky.
Maybe next time I’ll write about a one-eyed cat I once found. His name was Tingle, he was feral, and he lived under the floorboards.