The wonderful brave Golden retriever Max, and his Mom Pam and her daughter Julie, have just been dealt a real setback in his recovery from the amputation they did just a few months ago to stop the cancer that was found in his front leg bone. He’s been doing well with the chemotherapy (although it was ruinous financially since the VPI insurance Pam had so dutifully been paying for all four of her Goldens didn’t cover but a fraction of the charges, unlike the Pets Best Insurance I urge everyone to get, especially when hearing of a story like this). Here’s the update:
Max the Golden
Tracie -This has been another emotionally exhausting day. We had been playing ball with Max out in the yard and stopped throwing the ball when we realized the heat had gotten to him. But when trying to cool him off with ice packs to the armpit and groin didn’t seem to help, we took Max to the emergency vet clinic near us in West Islip. His blood pressure was very low, his white blood count over 40,000 and he had a moderately high temp. They had to bring him in on a stretcher, he was so weak. They put him on IV fluids and antibiotics and kept him overnight. They also did a chest x-ray which was normal so they took cancer out of the equation for the time being and treated him for dehydration. They wanted to stabilize him. I went home and stared at the ceiling all night.
Next morning I saw a different doctor. He said based on Max’s history we should do further tests to make sure the cancer had not come back. But first he wanted to bring Max in to see me to see how he would respond. Well, Tracie, Max came round the corner and practically pulled the doctor down trying to get to me. I threw myself down on the floor and my handsome 75-lb lap dog sat on my lap like he always does. We all laughed and remarked what a difference the supportive care had made. Max was excited and lively. The doctor still wanted to take x-rays of Max’s belly and repeat the blood work, even though he thought that Max had probably just succumbed to the extreme heat and had indeed been dehydrated. The doctor said it was just a precaution and I really wasn’t worried.
X-rays showed his intestines pushed back in his stomach. The doctor said this could be normal for Max but we should ultrasound it to make sure there wasn’t something there. I started to get a little worried but, for some reason, I was still optimistic. I went outside to call Julie at work to let her know what was going on. The doctor came out with the ultrasound picture in his hand.There was a mass. The size of a softball. And it was black which meant it was bleeding. Probably hemangiosarcoma, he said. It was between the liver and spleen and he wanted to do additional views to zero in on the exact location. If it was on the spleen, we could do a spleenectomy and Max would probably be fine. On the liver — that was a different story with not a happy ending.
I waited and chanted inside my head: spleen, spleen, spleen… please… please… please…
But, it’s on the liver.
This morning the ER doctor called to tell me the follow-up CBC showed Max is very anemic. This means the mass is bleeding into his belly. He faxed everything to Animal Medical Center in the city and had a telephone consultation with one of Max’s oncologists. I think Julie and I are going to AMC in the morning for them to do another ultrasound and possibly an MRI or CAT SCAN. I say “I think” because I have been lying with Max all day and he has become very weak again and I’m not sure I want to put him through anything else. If AMC feels that the tumor is operable, Max would have to undergo major abdominal surgery with extreme risks. This is not like the amputation and AMC is not sugarcoating it. Under the best circumstances, he may only get 4 – 6 months. Under the worst, he could die during the surgery and that is a very real possibility. If we do nothing, he will bleed internally until he can’t breathe and then he will go into shock. This could be tonight, in a few days, not more than a few weeks. Of course, there is always the “other” choice.
I go back and forth between sadness and anger. IT IS ONLY 3 l/2 MONTHS! We were supposed to get the summer. Max was supposed to run on the beach and swim after tennis balls and sticks. I sound like a 5-year old when I scream “IT’S NOT FAIR!!!” I sat in the chemo waiting room every other Saturday and listened to stories of cats and dogs who defied the odds and outlived their diagnoses. Max was supposed to be one of them.
But then I know that Max is 10. And we have had a 10-year relationship like none I have ever had with any human. We have had a wonderful, full life together. He has thanked me every day since the day I adopted him through LIGRR (Long Island Golden Retriever Rescue), and I have been privileged to have him by my side. I want to hold him until his last breath. He IS my breath. He IS my bones. He IS my heart.
I wanted to let you and your listeners know about Max because of the tremendous support I received through your talk show and your wonderful audience. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. If you know of a miracle, please send it our way. I’ll update you when I’m able.
Max’s Mom, Pam
I wrote to Pam & Julie:
Oh dear me. What a setback and blow to your dreams. In making the decision, just do your best to see it from Max’s point of view. You already know that. But being in your arms is what he wants, he showed you that at the vet’s. My thoughts are with you, as always.
Pam gave me an update:
We took Max to AMC. They took additional views on ultrasound. Three oncologist surgeons reviewed the pictures and felt it was a single liver lobe that could be removed. All 3 agreed it is definitely operable. And it COULD give him another 6 months to a year. Max is scheduled for surgery this Tuesday May 5th. There are horrible risks. If they get into his belly and find that it is much worse than can be seen on ultrasound they will tell us, and Julie and I have decided, in that case, we will not let them wake Max up. Even if all is well, Max could die during surgery or from complications after. But he can’t live with this thing growing inside him, so we have to give him this chance.
It is expensive. Another $4,000. I have to call Care Credit today and hope to God I get the additional credit. I will beg and plead. Max HAS to get this chance.
Julie and I are going to make this the most wonderful weekend for Max. I wish the weather was better because we would carry him down to the beach. We are going to take lots of pictures and movies. I’m praying for a miracle but we have to be realistic and know that this could be Max’s last weekend. I am going to try not to cry any more in front of him. The doctors are hopeful. Julie and I will be hopeful. Max is a dog FULL of love and hope and happiness. So that’s the motto for this very special weekend – love, hope and happiness.
I’ll write you after surgery. Wish us luck.
Max’s Mom, Pam
I honestly don’t know how you and Julie have the strength to go through this. I am going to post our correspondence and then put it on Twitter so more people can be praying and sending good vibes and karma your way for Tuesday’s operation. I admire your emotional strength and faith in Max’s will to live and thrive. You are a stronger woman than I am and an inspiration to all of us who call our pets family. I couldn’t even trust myself to talk about this on DOG TALK® yesterday — I was just going to lose it on the air, I know that. So instead am going to send this turn in Max’s story out by internet and maybe get even more people pulling for him
Blessings on all of you.
Tracie
