What Am I Doing?

What am I doing?  Why I am prepping for a colonoscopy in the morning.  It’s 5:50 p.m. as I begin typing and I’m about to down my 3rd glass of PEG 3350, affectionately known as anti-freeze.  UGH.  Hold on, I’ll be back. 

That was awful.  I have a long way to go.  This is my first time with this prep, my 4th colonoscopy.  Yes, it’s an unusual post for me; it’s a rather personal thing AND it has nothing to do with art or my dogs.  I figured if I have to be miserable, why not whine to the world while going through this ridiculously awful moment. 

On a serious note, though, I’m really sharing this because I believe this procedure saves lives and I’m sure it will save mine.  My grandfather died of colon cancer and my mother was a colon cancer survivor. (she died of heart failure, cancer-free.) Lucky me, I’m the child that inherited that special set of genetic code, so I go through this every 5 years. Better than cancer or dying from something easily preventible. 

But for crying out loud, anti-freeze?!  Really, I’m sitting here typing, shaking like crazy and COLD!  The least this prep could do for me is give me warmth.  Oh, that’s just my body rebelling at being given poison in order to save my life.  I know, so dramatic but I told you I was going to share my misery.  

There are other preps out there and since I’m new to this doctor, I don’t remember what I took before, but it WASN’T this crap!!  big sigh.  My other preps weren’t fun, but I didn’t have to drink a glass every ten minutes.  Right now I’d give anything to go back a day and say, “Um no, I don’t think I want the prep that takes the longest to deal with.  I’ll take the short version, thank you.”

So, back to colon cancer.  My mother ignored the symptoms until she couldn’t any longer and discovered hers at the age of 70 when she finally went to a doctor.  By then, unfortunately she had a stage 2 (I think) cancer and lost a part of her bowel.  To maintain her dignity, I won’t go into those details, but I will tell you what she did that remains with me forever.  

But first, I must “take a break.”  Back in a bit. 

ohmygodthatisnastytasting. yuk. 

Upon learning she had cancer my mother went to the library and picked up all the books she could find on cancer and treatment. She had stacks of books on her coffee table for days.  Finally she decided she would have surgery, but there would be no chemotherapy, no radiation.  She based her decision on her research and nothing her children or doctors said made her change her mind.  She said she’d rather have a short period of quality time left, than a long life of damaged organs and illness. Her doctors were very skeptical and did not agree, but they supported her right to choose her treatment.  Kudos to those wonderful surgeons and physicians.  

Mom’s surgery took much of an afternoon.  We were worried and the doctor came out to inform us that he could not get all of the cancer, due to inflammation and the extent of the growth.  Fast-forward to a year later, Mom had her second surgery and all of the cancer was removed.  She showed no signs of cancer anywhere else in her body and she lived another 13 years and remained cancer free the entire time.  

I think, no, I KNOW my mother made the right decision for her.  I would not necessarily recommend it for everyone, but she researched the type of cancer she had, the effects of radiation and chemotherapy, and she decided this was the best course for the cancer she had and for her mental well-being.  If ever I do have colon cancer, I will do the same.  But not all cancers are alike, and each responds to different therapies.  Most importantly, I was in awe of how my mother took charge of her own body and cure.  She never backed down or let anyone talk her out of her choice.  For her, there is no question it was key to her long survival. 

I think tomorrow when I see the doctor, I’m going to be sure and use the terms “cruel” and “unusual” during the course of our conversation. 

In spite of my sarcasm and descriptions, I highly recommend anyone putting off this procedure get it done.  The procedure itself is quick and low-risk.  It isn’t embarrassing; you’ll be under sedation and everyone else there is doing the same.  The prep is another story, but you will survive it, as will I. 

It’s nearly 7 p.m. now and I am barely down to 1/2 of the jug.  It’s going to be a long night.  I’m planning on it being a long life.  And thanks for listening.  Doing this post helped me get through the first few hours.  Hmmm, wonder who I'll whine to for the next few?  

Updates

Since Gracie became ill, (see my previous post) I have spent most of my time taking care of her needs.  She is recovering slowly, since she already had a few other "old lady dog" issues to begin with.  I don't think she'll ever recover fully, which is the case with some dogs.  I had plans to go out of town this coming weekend, but it looks like I'll remain here with my old gal while my husband takes off without me.  Sometimes life throws you lemons, no? 


Some humans just don't get it, but my pets are part of our family.  We adopted them with every intent of giving them the best life we possibly could and sometimes that means sacrifice.  I was accused once of not understanding or being capable of unconditional love because I didn't have human children.  But I would disagree, as I'd do anything for the furry children I do have.  (and yes, there are some humans who rank right up there as well.)  Taking care of an elderly pet isn't cheap, nor is it always convenient or easy.  But I wouldn't do anything differently at all.  I'm lucky I have the means to be able to take care of the furkids I do have.  


On another note, I have totally ignored my art the past few weeks.  With all the things going on in Casa Castillo, I just haven't fit it in.  An hour here or there, sporadically, but that's about it.  Classes will begin soon, I have a few commissions underway and I have a show in September, so the studio is calling me.  I did finally complete two commissions and delivered them last month.  


Gabby continues to improve with her behavior and we'll be starting puppy school in September. Yep, she's 4 years old and she did graduate from puppy school as a puppy (!) but we're basically reconditioning her, so here we go again.  I think it'll be a great thing.  


These are just quick updates for those following the last few posts.  I promise, more pics, less "stuff" in the future.  It's just been one of those summers. 

Canine Vestibular Disease/Syndrome

My poor old girl Gracie, as if she needs another problem as she ages. 


This past weekend the old lady stood up around bedtime and began staggering across the floor.  I watched her and asked aloud, " What is wrong with you, Gracie? Hmmmm?  What is going on?"  It didn't take long to figure it out.  I'd been through this before with another dog a long while ago. The drunken walk, the head tilt. oh no.  I looked at her eyes and sure enough, they were practically spinning!  They were moving back and forth, left to right, with such speed it made ME dizzy.  I do not have a photo...it's too sad to chronicle in images.  


Sunday was awful for us both.  She wouldn't eat, couldn't get her balance, her head strongly tilted to the left and she walked in circles what little bit she could manage to walk.  I had to carry her up and down stairs. (no choice) 


Canine vestibular disease is a puzzle, but seems to affect the inner ear and create vertigo in a dog.  Cats can have this, too. Apparently the nausea from the vertigo makes them ill and not willing to take food.  She will drink water.   Luckily, Gracie is a trouper and doesn't take much without a fight. Unfortunately, she can't afford to not eat since she is already too thin, so I was worried.  We went to the vet on Monday to verify her condition.  Today is Thursday and other than bits of cheese and chicken, she hasn't eaten.  I had to force feed her today.  This syndrome should subside in 3 - 4 weeks.  Can you imagine? 


Gracie is aptly named.  She is a dog with much grace, pride and dignity.  She's not easy for others to love, but she loves us and we love her.   It's so difficult when I can't make it all better for her.  

Gabriela - Part Three

Gabriela is our youngest pup at 4 years old.  She began to develop fear issues during her first year with us.   I attribute it to an incident we had while staying in a cottage at the beach.  

This is a recent photo of Gabby at the cottage. 

Briefly, the story is:  A drunken "neighbor" joined us on our deck early one morning.  My Eugene would not leave my side and Gabby ran upstairs.  We found him to be harmless, but he insisted on trying to befriend the dogs, scared Gabby to death and he wouldn't leave.  An hour or so later, Ernie noticed a weapon in the man's pocket, which as you can imagine, led us to worry.  Guns and alcohol at 9 - 10 in the morning just aren't really a great sign of good things.  I suspect on top of her fears, Gabby picked up on ours.  By 11 a.m. Ernie convinced this person to leave.  The story is actually much longer with even some humorous moments, but as far as Gabby is concerned, the damage was done.  She does not like strange men, she fears new things and places, and more recently, she's begun acting like a lunatic on her leash walks when passing other dogs.  

Gabriela came spring loaded.  The girl-dog can leap unannounced about 5 feet straight up into the air.  Unfortunately, on a leash, that means she crashes on pavement as she is writhing to get to another dog.  She actually likes other dogs, but having no mama-dog training, this inappropriate behavior is an issue.  We fear for her safety.  

So, I called Jenn Kyzer of Dog Talk, who spent 2 hours + with us and Gabby.  Gabby of course would have nothing to do with her.  She wound up upstairs, far away.  Jenn told us after some time talking that Gabby's behavior was actually pretty severe.  SEVERE!  ohmy.  We only thought it difficult, but not severe.  

Jenn took the time to show us how to teach Gabby door and leash manners.  She learned nearly instantly what Jenn showed us.  She may be a goofball, but she is a smart goofball.  Our little goofball did really well with me during our daily walks and then came the weekend and Ernie's turn.  hoo boy.  THAT was a traumatic walk.  One of the things we were supposed to do was use a very long leash to give Gabby room to walk, but stay with us.  Hard to explain, but it basically gives her a range of territory, yet teaches her to stay with us when she reaches the end.  Ernie took her out on the long leash and unfortunately passed a neighbor, her two kids and their dog.  Gabby went nuts - leaping, spinning, barking and Spring! up in the air.  Ernie, trying to get her back in control, went dog whisperer on her and had to hold her down to the ground.  The woman RAN with her kids and dog away from the craziness.  Ernie tried to explain, but it all happened so quickly.  Comedic, traumatic, frustrating.  

For now, Gabby is doing just fine on a 6 foot lead and when we see other dogs, we do rein her in. Safety first, manners next.  We're still working on better behavior when greeting dogs and people.  She actually allowed the Fed Ex man to come near her recently.  Not touch, but near was a miracle. !  She is passing most other dogs with less energy and outbursts.  It may take a long while for us and Gabby to adjust, but we're working on it, one day at a time.  Next goal: walking with other dogs.  hoo boy.  When that happens, I'll post an update.  

In the meantime, I can't say enough good things about training dogs.  I don't mean creating a perfectly behaved little machine, but training teaches us how to behave with them as much as anything.  All of our dogs have attended puppy school and usually beyond. Gabby barely made it through puppy school. I let the ball drop on that and should have known better.  Perhaps if we'd continued, some of her issues would not have developed into such extreme problems for us and for her.  I don't know that.  I DO know that a competent, caring trainer is a gift to us all.  Thank you, Jenn.