faith, the friends

Doxology

Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below,
Praise Him above ye heavenly host,
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

If you know anything about Dixie, you know that she was diagnosed with colon cancer in February.

If you don’t know anything about her, it’s time to catch up:

There is no remedy for love but to love more.

We’re Not Just Whistling Dixie

One minute you’re getting your face bit off and the next minute you’re living in Hintzville.

Is this my new calling? ‘Cuz I’m gonna’ need superhuman strength.

Big Love & Fruit that Lasts

Stuck in the Kitchen Again…

McDonald’s has its pink slime, I have purple.

When I last wrote about my friend, I was cooking like her life depended on it.

And wondering whether she would be incontinent forever.

But then the blessings began to flow on two creatures here below.

On a little beagle and me.

Dixie is now pooping like a champ – well, almost like a champ. And that is a huge blessing right there.

But there’s more.

Wednesday morning I took her for the 4th of 6 chemo treatments – each 3 weeks apart.  As per the protocol, her oncologist did an ultrasound and some chest x-rays prior to the treatment to make sure the treatments have been working.  If not, he’d switch to something else.

The ultrasound results?

There is no sign of recurrence in her bowels or lymph nodes – lymph nodes are all of normal size.

The doc said a radiologist would look at her chest x-rays to confirm but he saw nothing obvious on them.

So he proceeded with injection number four.

And then yesterday his assistant called with the radiologist’s findings:

Her lungs are completely clear!

Good food, exercise and chemo are keeping the cancer at bay.

And Love. Lots of Love.

Love is healing her.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow…

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Stopping to smell the roses after this morning’s happy walk.

She’ll get the final two injections and then she’ll be monitored from there.

Hopefully for many happy, healthy years to come…

#grateful #hopeful

 

 

 

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life

Stuck in the Kitchen Again…

We just returned home from Dixie’s check up with the surgeon.

The good news is her incision is healing well and the sutures in her rectum are still intact.

One more week and she can ditch the cone.

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I don’t like it when people call it the “cone of shame.” There’s nothing shameful about recovering from surgery.  There’s something bad-you-know-what about it. It’s an “I’m a tough little cookie” cone of honor.

We went to see the surgeon today because, as you know, she has been having so much trouble going and we were concerned. He did a rectal exam and said the diameter of the portion that he sutured together is only half the diameter of the rest of her bowel, so she is straining (really hard) to push a large stool through a much smaller opening. He put her on a stool softener which seems strange because what little has been coming out has been plenty soft. But the stool on the other side of the sutures isn’t soft at all.

So we are relieved to know that she is healing and her ability to go should improve. I’ve been so worried.

The sad news is that the biopsy report confirms adenocarcinoma.

Fortunately the margins were clean and it wasn’t in her spleen but it has spread to her lymph nodes and omentum. Which means it’s in her bloodstream.

I’ll be meeting with the oncologist next week to discuss chemo, etc.

We didn’t use the same hospital that we used for Bebe, so this will be a different oncologist. Depending on what he says, I might try chemo this time. We’ll see.

The surgeon said her prognosis, based on limited data, is 8 months.

So that’s where we are – sad but also aware that God can do anything.

Once she recovers completely and can get back to her routine we will feed her really delicious, nutritious food, build up her immune system so she can fight this devil off, take her for lots of walks and have lots of fun – even go to the beach when it gets warmer.

And try chemo if it doesn’t put a damper on her quality of life.

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Would love it if you would keep this sweet little heart in your prayers.

In the meantime, we’ll be hanging out in the kitchen again today.

I’ll be ruminating on all the heartbreak cancer has brought to my life these last two years.

Dixie will be ruminating gastric acid.

#ruminate

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the friends

Is this my new calling? ‘Cuz I’m gonna’ need superhuman strength.

One minute you’re getting your face bit off and the next minute you’re living in Hintzville.

One day you’re living in Hintzville, going for a warm, sunny walk and a week later you’re under the knife.

Last post I told you what I know about Dixie’s history. What I didn’t tell you is that she has had varying amounts of blood in her stool since the day we adopted her. Every stool, every day.

Finally, after multiple trips to the vet and two rounds of blood and stool tests to rule out parasites and infections, we were referred to a specialist for an ultrasound.

The ultrasound revealed a mass in her colon. And an enlarged lymph node. And a small spot on her spleen.

So at 8:00 this morning I dropped her off at the hospital for a colonoscopy – to give the internal medicine specialist and the surgeon a look at what they’re dealing with from the inside.

While she’s still under anesthesia she’ll go directly into surgery.  To remove the mass and resection her bowel.   And, if she hasn’t been under too long at that point, the surgeon will remove the lymph node and her spleen, too.

Just got a call from the hospital. They are about to begin.  It will be about two hours. The surgeon will call when he’s finished.

I hung up the phone, got on my knees and asked God to fill the operating room. I asked Him to give the specialist and the surgeon insight and knowledge and skill beyond what they have. I asked Him to give the surgeon creativity in approaching the mass – since it is partially behind her pubis and difficult to access.  I’m praying he’ll get clean margins without having to split her pelvis.

I’m praying the mass is not malignant.  I’m praying it isn’t any kind of cancer at all.  It’s possible that it’s a stricture. I sure hope so.

I’m praying for no complications.

I’m praying that the resection will not come apart one day and dump feces into her abdomen.

I’m praying she will heal quickly and live another happy, healthy five years.  At least.

If it is a malignant cancer, the surgeon said worst case scenario she’ll have  3-4 months, best case she’ll have 1-2 years.

I’m praying it isn’t cancer.

I’m praying I don’t have to muster the strength, beg God for the strength, to walk another friend down this road again so soon.

I’ve already fallen in love with Dixie.

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And I’m still missing Bebe.

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And Lucy.

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I told you last week that Dixie had been bounced around a lot this last year after her “mom” moved into a nursing home.  And that made it really heartbreaking to leave her this morning.

So I’m asking God to hold her close, to whisper in her soft, floppy little beagle ear that she hasn’t been abandoned.  That she is deeply loved and she will be going home to Hintzville.

Just got a call from the surgeon.  The colonoscopy showed that it is a mass, not a stricture.

Dixie’s being prepped for surgery and he’s heading into the OR.

Praying he gets it all.

Praying it’s benign.

Praying she heals well.

Praying, praying, praying.

And feeling sick.

 

 

 

 

 

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the friends

There is no remedy for love but to love more.

One of the good foster moms told me that the only way she could cope with the heartbreak of saying goodbye to a child – especially when the child was leaving her to return to a barely stable birth parent – was to quickly welcome another child into her home.

Yesterday my family received two cards in the mail.

One was a sympathy card from our vet and the other was from the Michigan Animal Adoption Network notifying us that our vet had made a donation in Bebe’s honor.

So this morning, of course, I googled the Michigan Animal Adoption Network and read all about fostering dogs.

And now I want to foster one.

Then I clicked on the adoption link and read the profiles of several beagles in foster homes near me who are awaiting permanent families.

And now I want to foster a dog AND adopt Dixie.

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This is Dixie.  We haven’t met yet but I think I love her.

I sent a text to both the hub and my daughter… Haven’t heard back from the hub.

The only thing that gives me pause is Maxy.  He might prefer to live out his elderly life in peace and quiet.

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This is how Maxy prefers to spend his days.

But he does still love his walks.  And a new friend might make him feel young again…

I’m thinking the Maxers and I could at least go visit Dixie, see how they get along.

And now I’m thinking that donation might have had a threefold purpose:

  1. to honor Bebe
  2. to provide needed funds to a good organization – specifically to provide comfort to suffering dogs through their Animal Care Network.
  3. and to perhaps make the hub and me aware of the organization; to spur us on toward love and good deeds.

There is no remedy for love but to love more. – Thoreau

I’ll keep you posted.

#exposure

 

 

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the friends

Love Sponges

My friend Peggy Rice (Gray Clouds, Clear Skies) shared that her parents’ cat died last night.  She wrote, “Those pets are such an important part of our lives…I understand the grief.”

As I was praying for her parents it occurred to me why pets are such an important part of our lives, and why losing them is so painful.  Why losing them is sometimes even harder than losing a human.

It’s because of love.

Pets are the repositories of our best love.  We pour it into them, unhindered and unguarded and when they are gone, the receptacle for all that pristine love is gone.

They love us back, for sure, and we certainly miss their delightful personalities, but I think it’s their willingness to be loved that we miss the most.

They are love sponges.

They are 100% willing to be loved. They don’t evaluate the quality of our love, they just soak in every bit of it they can get.

People, with their insecurities and baggage, often reject large and small portions of our love.

But not pets, pets willingly and unabashedly accept it all.

And we love them for it.

Praying for everyone out there who is grieving the loss of their precious love sponge.

dads-home

#notcapableofrejection

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family, love, the friends

Sacrificial Gifts

A few weeks before Christmas my daughter texted me a picture of Sorel Slimpack II Waterproof Boots – in case I needed a gift idea.

I had already bought her gifts but I was tempted to buy just one more.  Except the hub said we needed to scale back this year due to all the vet bills.  So I resisted.

The Monday before Christmas I stood at the pharmacy counter with a prescription for a colonoscopy prep kit – the same kind my husband used back in October when he had his colonoscopy.  The kind that is a lot easier to take than the Golytely jug I’ve used in the past.

“Your insurance doesn’t cover this one,” the pharmacist said, “it will be $100.”

“What?” “Is that how much my husband paid back in October?”

She checked her computer.

“He paid $86, he had a coupon. I’ll try applying that same coupon code to yours.”

With the coupon it would be $91.  The price must have gone up she said.

“Is there another kind that my insurance will cover?”

She advised me to call the doc’s office and ask them to authorize a switch.

Golytely. The dreaded 4 litre jug.

Dreaded but 100% covered.

I texted the hub.  He said go ahead and pay the $91.

But then I remembered the boots. I was willing to suffer for the boots.

So I took home the jug.

The day after the colonoscopy I went to Nordstrom to purchase the boots – for $145.

“I thought I saw them on sale on your website for $114,” I said, as the clerk rang them up.

Apparently not.

As I was leaving the mall I spotted the same boots at another store – on sale for $109.

Back to Nordstrom to return, then back to Journeys to buy.

Those 8 hours of gut-wrenching misery – literally – paid for all but $18 of the boots.  The hub could live with it.

Sacrificial Giving

As we were heading to the theater to see the matinee showing of La La Land the day after Christmas, I told my daughter the story of the boots – my own small version of the Gift of the Magi.  Not because I wanted a medal or anything, but because I wanted her to know the depth of my love. And because giving a sacrificial gift felt so good, I thought receiving one might feel good, too.  Judging by the expression on her face at the end of my story, I think it did.

Same Love, Different Scenario

That evening, after dinner, I said, “Time for family goodness.” (“Family goodness” = all of us taking the friends for a walk.  One of us takes the hound, another takes the beagle and the third is on bag duty…”)

“It’s almost dark,” the hub said, sitting comfortably on the sofa watching some sort of sport on tv.

“Bring a flashlight,” I replied.

My daughter didn’t say anything, but the look she flashed revealed that she wasn’t thrilled either.

It was a rare 50 degree day in December and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to walk the little beagle. She cannot tolerate the cold anymore and getting oxygen to her lungs is so important.  I had been waiting all day for the rain to stop so we could take her.  It was still drizzling when I made my announcement, but it was getting dark and the window was closing.

“Come on,” I said.

As my daughter put on her coat she said, “You’re never going to be satisfied with the manner in which I parent your granddogs.”

“I just won’t come over,” I replied.

She continued, “Because I’m going to treat my dogs just like the rest of the country does.”

It snowed 8 inches the weekend before Christmas.  I bundled the beagle up and took her for a walk a few days later when the temp rose to 32 degrees.  She begged to romp through the woods.  “Sorry, little Be,” I said, “but your legs are too short, your belly will drag through the snow and you’ll get too cold.” I promised her that once the snow diminished enough we would take a walk through the woods.

And on that rainy, 50 degree day after Christmas when the snow was just about gone, we did.

The five of us took a walk through the woods, the hub carrying a flashlight and me using the flashlight on my iPhone.

It felt good to keep a promise.

It felt good to take my friends for a damp, drizzly, sacrificial walk in the woods.

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It’s all the same.

I thought about my daughter’s comments as I was unloading the dishwasher the next morning.

It’s all the same love, baby girl, I thought.  The same quality of love that bought your boots kept its promise to the Be.

It’s that way with God, too.  The quality of His love is always the same  – whether He is extending it to the saint or the sinner.

It isn’t about how lovable we are, it’s about how able to love He is.

And I so love Him. ❤

#nomoping

 

 

 

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