Friday, February 17, 2017

Day 2622

I'd hate to be in the restaurant business. Customers are fickle. Reviews are seldom fair. And employee turnover is unbelievable. I ate breakfast this morning at a place I haven't visited for several months and there wasn't a single familiar face. The entire staff was new. The food had actually improved, so maybe the staff changes were a good thing. Like I say, I don't understand the restaurant business at all.

Most of the day was spent taking Dot to her appointment at the cancer center. Janet was able to take some time off work today to help me transport Dot. Having two people in the car seemed to help. Janet sat in the back with Dot and was able to calm her down when she became agitated and tried to move around. Dot arrived for her exam a lot calmer than she usually does, but her blood pressure was still a little high.

We got some more bad news today. Her cancer is progressing and there are now four tumors growing in her liver. There were only three the last time we checked. The oncologist told us that Dot's liver and kidneys are still functioning normally and that even though the cancer was growing, it was growing slowly. She is starting to feel some discomfort though, so we added Gabapentin to her growing list of meds. The oncologist also wants to go back to testing Dot once a month, since the cancer could always start growing faster at any time.

While we were at the hospital we saw a family who had to make the decision to put their dog down. It was sad to watch them say their goodbyes. The dog actually looked in better shape than Dot, but I'm sure there was more to the story than we were seeing. They always tell you that your dog will let you know when it's time to go, but sometimes they don't. It's a big responsibility when you have to make that decision for them. I dread the day when we are faced with making this decision. Hopefully, Dot will make her wishes very clear. Right now it is obvious that Dot still loves life and wants to keep on going. As the cancer continues to grow, things will inevitably become more confusing.

When we got home today Janet asked me if I knew that Dot's oncologist was deaf. "What makes you think she is deaf," I asked. "Well, she was reading your lips," Janet told me. Have I ever mentioned that I'm not very observant. I could tell you exactly what shade of brown Dot's poop was today and I would notice instantly if you moved any of the books on my bookshelf, but I'm not very good at reading faces. Chances are if I met you on the street, I wouldn't even recognize you. I can never tell when people are happy or sad either. I guess it's a good thing that I'm seldom aware when people are mad at me.

We've got a long weekend coming up. I hope this means that everybody will get a little more sleep. The oncologist wants me to watch Dot closely this weekend to make sure that the Gabapentin doesn't make Dot lethargic and lose energy. "But how can I tell," I asked? "She doesn't have any energy right now." I think all Dot's doctors are amazed that she's still alive.

Lexi is today's Dalmatian of the Day
Watch of the Day