Hot Winds on My Shoulder

We sat in the full parking lot of the animal hospital.  It's north of the city in an ugly, traffic-y area.  Because of COVID, everyone was waiting in their cars with their dogs until someone came out to get them.  And then, you watch your dog walk into this big building and just keep waiting in the car.  It was a pretty tremendous operation.  They finally took Lola into the hospital to see the radio-oncologist.  I was surprised to watch her skip in there with a total stranger, butt shaking and into the hospital.  She didn't even look over her shoulder at me.  Quite a while later, the doctor emerged.  

"I am really not familiar with that shot, we don't do it here."  she began.  
The shot.  Neat.  The reason why we got a referral here.  The thing that would blast out that tumor without anesthesia or radiation.  The reason we were now seeing a third vet in fucking Sandy Springs-middle earth.  I looked at the ground.
"I recommend surgery.  The surgeon will not be able to get all of the tumor and Lola will require sixteen radiation treatments to eradicate the rest of it after surgery.  I want to aspirate her spleen and ultrasound her organs to make sure it hasn't spread.  This is going to take a few hours, you guys should go home.  I'll get her on the surgery schedule, it could be one to two weeks and then we'll schedule radiation.  Go home.  We'll call you."

We were back at square one.  Three vets later and back at square one and my dog still had a tumor on her leg that was malignant.  I pulled out of the parking lot and bawled my head off. 

Alec started googling every vet in Georgia and even in Tennessee to try to find someone that could evaluate Lola for the shot.  I didn't care if Lola was on every vet's schedule in town, the way this was going it seemed like the only way anyone was going to every treat this fucking thing.  UGA couldn't get her in for six weeks.  Most vets didn't have the shot.  Finally, a vet in Chattanooga knew what we were talking about and was available to evaluate Lola on July 8th.  

The radio-oncologist called and said that we could pick Lola up.  The ultrasound came out clear and Lola was scheduled for surgery on July 6th.  I hung up the phone and looked at Alec.  We had a decision to make, get the surgery or delay even more to get Lola evaluated for the shot.  We drove back to the animal hospital.

The vet came out with Lola.  

"I will have the results in 24 hours for the spleen."  she informed us.  

"I looked into it too and we do do the shot.  But, the tumor is too big, so she is not eligible for it."

"Okay."  I responded.  

"She's on the schedule for surgery and I will call you with the results of the spleen aspiration."

In ways, I was relieved that the decision had been made for us regarding surgery vs. shot.  But I was horrified by the idea of my dog being put under anesthesia for sixteen days and experiencing radiation.  They said it would blister, and be painful.  Even two weeks after the end, it's bad.  But, it has a 90% survival rate for 3-5 years before reoccurrence.  

The timeline was getting crazy, too.  Lola will have to be dropped off by seven in the morning and picked up in the afternoon.  I start working on July 26th, from seven in the morning until three in the afternoon.  I am also returning to my second job three days a week.  Alec and I have one car. He rides his bike to work and I use the car to get to where I work east of Atlanta, in the mornings it takes twenty-two minutes to get there, but from the vet it would take forty-five, if something crazy didn't happen.  The vet is north of Atlanta, about 40 minutes from where we live if traffic is tolerable.  My second job is in Decatur.  Radiation wouldn't begin until around two weeks after surgery and would be scheduled for sixteen, Monday through Friday days.  It would start the day I was supposed to go on a vacation that is non-refundable at this point and last through my pre-planning week and into the second week of school.  

I was scared to death about my dog and literally grinding my teeth to nubs trying to figure out how we would get her back and forth for her radiation and keep both of our jobs.  And, I was again pacing around with my phone in my hand waiting again to find out if it had spread to her spleen.  

Days later, the vet called and said that Lola's spleen was clear.  I started crying again, out of relief.  And, last Tuesday, she had her surgery.  The tumor has been removed.  Her leg is bandaged up to her knee and she is on "house rest", meaning she can't run around or jump.  We have been spending a lot of time indoors, laying on the couch while I pet her.  

As horrible as this is, I am beyond grateful that the cancer did not spread.  Everything would be even more awful right now.  Honestly, it would be intolerable.