We noticed a cough, just one bout of 3 coughs last week, but still. I asked for radiographs today before Ahab’s biweekly chemo course when I dropped him off at Tufts before work. Just because I’m an overprotective companion and love x-rays.The news is … bad. The cancer has clearly metastasized, and because of the now long-pickled tumor’s location — the also-pickled scapula — the advancement is expected to be very aggressive. Two nodules are now visible at 1.5 cm each. That’s quite a rapid rate of growth since last month when all was clear. Chemo is no longer the right course of action, so John is bringing him home after school. We have a median survival rate of 60 - 90 days to work with, and the disease’s progression from here on out is not one of pain, just increased lethargy. Doctor’s orders: spoil him until he no longer takes pleasure in those doggie joys in life: eating, drinking and walking in the backyard. I like those things, too, by the way.
I STARTED EARLY–TOOK MY DOG by Emily Dickinson
I started Early–Took my Dog–And visited the Sea–The Mermaids in the Basement Came out to look at me–And Frigates–in the Upper Floor Extended Hempen Hands–Presuming Me to be a Mouse–Aground–upon the Sands– But no Man moved Me–till the Tide Went past my simple Shoe And past my Apron–and my Belt And past my Bodice–too–And made as He would eat me up–As wholly as a Dew Upon a Dandelion’s Sleeve–And then–I started–too And He–He followed–close behind–I felt His Silver Heel Upon my Ankle–Then my Shoes Would overflow with Pearl– Until We met the Solid Town–No One He seemed to know–And bowing–with a Mighty look-At me–The Sea withdrew