- March 1 – Discharge Summary – slight decrease in white blood cell count…likely due to previous chemotherapy treatment but not low enough to cause a delay in treatment. No significant abnormalities noted in CBC chemistry or ECG.
- Number 2 treatment. Check. Catie looked a little tired and scruffy when she got home; too much excitement coupled with some understandable anxiety. And of course, the administration of an intravenous catheter with nasty medication in her left hind leg.
March 2
And so it’s Tuesday. An uneventful night, a solid performance at breakfast. A mid-day report, before my husband goes to work: Catie seems fine.
A good day, all in all. I’m in a hurry to get home after work but think I can quickly duck into the grocery store to pick up a couple of things. A miraculous 15-minute run into Costco; a 10-minute stop into Safeway; I pull into the driveway. The car’s still running as I open the door, simultaneously hitting the trunk button, get out and slam the door shut just as I realize the trunk didn’t open after all and I must have pushed a wrong button. My heart sinks. Which button?
Yes indeed. The car is locked. No matter how many times I peer in the window and pull on the door, the car is unequivocally locked. And running.
A trip across the street to my neighbour, a call to my in-laws, yes, they have a key to the house. All is well.
Riley says: You have GOT to be kidding me. It wasn’t quite as composed as that. I heard the car pull into the driveway and Catie and I ran to the front window. Hm. I can hear the car. Mom runs into the garage. Mom runs out of the garage. Mom looks at us in the window and jabs the lock with a screwdriver. I bark: Yay, supper’s coming! Mom disappears around the corner. Is that her at the back door? She reappears on the front step, and stares at the door, rattles the knob, looks at us and runs across the street like a madwoman, almost slipping on some ice on the sidewalk. I’m confused. When it looks like she’s not returning any time soon, Catie and I sigh heavy Golden sighs and go back to our pillows. Things are weird around here sometimes but I’m sure she’ll come back.
Catie doesn’t eat all her supper. I don’t think it’s because of my delayed arrival; she manages about half and then looks up at me. I don’t think she’s feeling all that well. Riley’s lurking around. The bowl goes on the counter and Catie gets some hugs and kisses before I let them outside.
Riley says: Ok. Number one: what a waste of excellent kibble. Number two: Mom is obsessed with Catie’s personal business. She watches Catie poop and pee and cleans it up in gloves and an outfit like someone from her favourite movie Space Cowboys. Not to mention she won’t let me pee where I want to.
Oh don’t you hate it when you lock your keys in the house!!
It sounds like Catie is doing well with her chemo. Best wishes for continued success!
Holly and Holly’s mom
Gerry says –
Aren’t pawrents such helpless creatures? They need a lot of caring for by their dogs. It’s good that you, Catie and Riley, can share the responsbilities.
Must be something about Alberta. Last summer or maybe it was the previous one, I’ll admit, I locked my keys AND Tazzie in the car one evening! And I had no other set of keys! And I lived over one hour from the closest town! What would you have done?
Oh goodness, what WOULD I have done?? At some point I think I would have found something (heavier than a tumbleweed) to break the window with maybe?
Geez … what a frustrating way to finish off a day ! I can just imagine Riley and Catie watching the goings-on out the window 🙂 wondering what the heck their human is doing NOW !
I hope Catie is doing ok with the chemo, Carmen. We’re still waiting for the surgeon to get back to us with the results of Sophie’s surgery. There was something in the report about “large lymphatic vessels” so we may have to do a course of chemo as well.
All the best, Catie ! Take good care of your sister, Riley.
Tana
Hope Catie feels a little better now after her 2nd treatment. I wish that loss of appetite wasn’t one of the side effects of this chemo. After every treatment Mackenzie’s had so far, there are several days when she doesn’t feel like eating or eating as much. My husband tells me not to worry so much but something about eating makes us Moms feel like it’s going to be ok. So I usually end up hand feeding her just to reassure myself I suppose. Kobe, Mackenzie’s little brother, can totally relate to Riley about his Mom’s obsessiveness with Mackenzie’s personal business (at that’s without having to wear a Space Cowboy suit :).) The things we do for love…….take good care Catie and Riley!
Catie is feeling a bit better today, thank you, I think. She ate both her breakfast and supper (after just a little hesitation), accepted her biscuits, jumped on me when I came home and played the piano.
I was nervous for 72 hours after Catie’s first treatment and didn’t really breathe properly until then. I find myself counting down the hours after this treatment too, as if it’s some magic number and once we reach it we’ll be guaranteed safe passage!
Thank you for checking in on us. Hope all is well with you too.
I love Catie’s picture! Holly loves it when her human sisters play the piano – she always goes and lies nearby.
We’re so glad Catie is feeling better! And hope she continues to tolerate her chemo. I get nervous after Holly’s treatments, too. It’s like walking on eggshells until you’re sure they’re ok.
Best wishes! and hugs,
Holly and Holly’s mom
Riley thanks for telling us the true story! Sometimes are pawrents like to hide the fact that they are crazy!!!
We hope Catie is feeling good! We are thinking about her lots!!!
Lots more goldens hugs for Catie and hi-fives for you Riley!
Dillon and Rhys