I think I’ve been really good with my diagnosis. It hasn’t scared me, I have only had a few outbursts when it all became a little too much for me, and I don’t fear you, but I think I will survive in the end.
However, did you really have to go after my dog at the same time? As if it’s not bad enough that I will be in the hospital for three weeks or so and will then have to live away from home because of the threats of infection, did you really have to make it so that I will never see my dog again after I leave for the hospital on Monday?
This dog is a survivor and can withstand a lot. I guarantee you she isn’t going to go quietly just because you gave her a really large tumor on her gumline. Sure it’s bleeding every once in awhile, but it really doesn’t seem to bother her, and we all agree she still has some quality of life left. It will take more than this to bring her down. She’s kind of like the canine Valerie Harper.
However, the vet confirmed that she won’t make it until after I’m out of isolation. If she doesn’t go on her own, Jeff will have to put her down when that quality of life is no longer there or when the bleeding becomes more uncontrollable. But it’s going to be really tough on him. We already said goodbye to Mac, Anna’s brother, a few months back, and now he’ll have to say goodbye to Anna without me there.
And of course, Anna joins a whole litany of friends and family who either have or have had cancer. I think, Cancer, that you are making it your goal to touch every single person in one form or another. You can stop, though, at any time. I’ve noticed you.
But know this, Cancer. I will not fear you, and I remain convinced that I will survive our epic battle. This just makes me repeat the mantras even more.
“Making Cancer my bitch!”
You will not steal that resolve from me.