The cone of shame

Storm is at home.  He's nearly back to his old self, although he still has patches of bare skin, now being covered by a thin layer of hair as it grows back.  Because he had lost so much blood, he had IV's placed in both front legs, so these were shaved.  Then, to facilitate placing the limb leads for the monitor, another patch on both front and his left hind leg were shaved.  As Ryan commented, "He looks like a poodle."  (which, for a Portie, may be the greatest insult of all)  His belly was also shaved and his incision stapled closed.  Since dogs have a propensity for licking... everywhere... he was given an e-collar (aka Elizabethan collar; aka the cone of shame).  His first collar was too big and too soft.  I put it on and he promptly walked out of it. 

After he saw his PCV (that's my made-up abbreviation for primary care vet), Dr. Annie (who, I will say is not only a great vet, but a great runner, and even nicer person), he was given a hard cone to wear.  That seemed to work until he caught the edge of it on one of his staples as he, you guessed it, tried to lick the incision site, and pulled out a couple of the staples.  So, he then received a larger cone, and this seemed to solve all of the problems.  Well, except for the one where Storm now whacks his cone on everything:  door jamb, wall, back of my leg, back of my leg, back of my leg.  Yup, he's figured out that he can get attention by using the cone as a battering ram.  He has also managed to crack his cone when he and Sancho decided to chase each other down the hallway and he ran it into the door. 

So, where are we now?  As expected, his final path came back as metastatic hemangiosarcoma.  His expected lifespan is, at best, months.  We elected to decline chemotherapy, as it would figure to only prolong his life by a few months and is not curative.  So... we're trying mushrooms!  I looked up hemangiosarcoma and stumbled across the use of the turkey-tail mushroom (coriolus versicolor is the scientific name) in the treatment of hemangiosarcoma.  While the study was not great, I figured, "Why not? (at this point)." 

Right now, we're just enjoying having Storm around.  He's still energetic, especially at mealtimes, although he gets tired more quickly.  I have no doubt that at some point in the near future, he will have another bleed, which will be the terminal event.  While I am dreading that moment, I also am grateful that we were able to bring him home and that I can spend my evenings enjoying his company.  I'll be even happier when we can get rid of that cone, as I'm sure he will be, too.

My best friend

I'm going in a different direction on this blog for a little while.  I'm not a difficult person to read emotionally; you can usually tell how I am doing by just looking at me.  Basically, I wear my heart on my sleeve, much as I try to hold it inside.   But, while that's the case, it is hard for me to express myself verbally at times.  I have found, over the years, that writing can be therapeutic for me.

This is Storm.  Full name:  Yaquina Bay's Eye of the Storm.  Family names:  Storm, Stormy, Stormisch, Stormify, Stormy Weather... and on and on.  For the past nine years, he has been my best buddy.  While he never did agree to go running with me (until this past summer, which is an entirely different story), he has been the dog that every boy wants to have, at least for me... even with his quirks.  He wakes me up every morning by jumping on me, bugs me to feed him whenever I'm home, shoves his head underneath my hand when I'm sitting on a chair or couch, so that I have to pet him, barks fiercely whenever someone enters "his cul-de-sac" or comes to the door, and knocks over his water bowl whenever he wants fresh water. 

 

What else does Storm do?  He greets me at the door every time I come home, usually with his favorite toy in his mouth, high-fives me whenever I ask, tries to get me to chase him around the couch, follows me around the house, and snuggles up with me whenever I lie down.

 

As Storm is nearly 10, the realization that he is aging has been hitting home to me.  He is turning grayer, and he does sleep a bit more, but he is still the energetic clown that he has always been.   At least he was when we left for Portland last Friday for a water polo tournament.  On Sunday morning, during our second-to-last game, we received a phone call from our pet-sitter that Storm was lethargic and wouldn't eat or get up.  Since he always is the first one to awaken in the morning, the fact that he did not wake up our pet-sitter was a bit concerning.  Because of the concern that Storm was not acting well, he was taken to the emergency vet (Summit Veterinary Referral Center, for whom I am very grateful).  After several tests, there was concern that Storm was exhibiting the classic presentation for a Hemangiosarcoma.  Google that diagnosis, and you (if you are a dog lover) will immediately turn cold with dread.  It is a terminal diagnosis that typically can be measured in weeks to a few months.  Honestly, I am forever grateful to Kevin, our pet-sitter, who quickly recognized that there was something seriously wrong with Storm.  Had we been home, we might not have responded so quickly, since we are used to a lot of Storm's quirks and might have waited a bit longer, which could have been catastrophic.

 

I will spare most of the details but Storm was bleeding into his abdomen and required emergency surgery (exploratory laparotomy).  An active bleeding site was found in his spleen, so he had a splenectomy and multiple liver nodules were seen, so a biopsy was taken of one of the nodules.  Basically, while the final pathology won't be available until later this week, it appears that he has metastatic hemangiosarcoma. 

 

Storm is in the ICU right now, trying to recover.  Tracy and I have been visiting him multiple times during the day, and I'm hoping that he turns the corner and starts eating and that his dysrhythmia (heartbeat irregularities) stop, so the meds can be stopped.  But, the reality is that my buddy only has, at best, a few months to live, even with chemotherapy.  We're just hoping to bring him home, so that he can be in a familiar warm setting surrounded by those who love him. 

 

To be able to have a dog like Storm has truly been a treat for me.  It is said that dogs give people unconditional love without asking for much in return.  Storm epitomizes that for me.