After sitting alone, worrying in a dark, quiet veterinary emergency room last night, I started to panic when the vet finally walked down the hallway toward me at 5 am holding Birkie’s collar and leash, but without the dog.
Clearly noticing the WTF-happened-to-my-dog look I gave him, he said, “We lose things around here,” and handed them back to me. Sunday night, Birkie got into the food stash and ate enough to make her stomach about six times its normal size. She woke me up in the middle of the night gulping for air, retching, and had a look in her eyes saying, “Mom I made a big mistake and I don’t know what to do.” Sure enough, her stomach was so full of food that the vet worried it could rupture with any movement. She spent the day at the doggie hospital being monitored and getting IV fluids. When I was signing standard consent forms before I left her there for the day, the vet asked me if, should it become necessary, I wanted the team to perform emergency surgery or CPR on Birkie. I just looked up and thought, “I would spend literally a million dollars to keep this dog alive right now.” But, calmly (I think) said, “yes please” and went on with my day, which included going home for another hour of sleep and then taking an unusually uncomfortable and worried Sam to the clinic while they pumped him back up with blood and chemo. Since our last blog posts and the diagnosis, I continually think that I should be feeling way more existential than I have been instead of just going through the motions. Or maybe that I should have more profound conclusions about life and love, but I really don’t. So I’ll just update you all on a few things that are a little more straightforward. First, if you haven’t seen or spoken with him, I want everyone to know that Sam is doing and feeling much better than you probably think he is. Things are hard, and he feels pretty crappy at some point every day, but he is still up for seeing friends, eating, going on short walks, and cracking lots of utterly terrible jokes. Sam has a knack for telling stories in the longest, most detailed way. I notice this extra because I’ve heard most of his stories a dozen times, but I have savored the re-telling a little harder over the past few days of visits. Anyway, I don’t think we’ve given the impression that many of these things are possible for him right now, but they are! So while yes, there is a lot to worry and be sad and scared about, there are also things to be grateful for with getting to stay in a house together with Birkie and make homemade meals at the top of the list. (Thank you, Kate!!) Another thing to know is that we already left Seattle and are now in Madison, Wisconsin to visit family, see friends and experience the calming presence of Sam’s Madison doctor and the familiar faces of the nurses here. It’s great to be back in familiar territory and out of Seattle, which, unfortunately, is a place now synonymous with cancer. Our hope is to spend another couple weeks here while Sam gets a course of treatment designed to slow down the rate of the leukemia’s progress and then head back home to Alaska, which is where he wants to spend his final days. Which brings me to the less straightforward stuff to report. Truthfully, I’m still not sure what to say, but it’s so heavily on my mind that I have to mention it. It’s easy for me to get wrapped up in thinking about how long we have together, but Sam encourages me that now, more than ever, is the time to stop thinking about whatever is next and just make each day as good as it can be. In any circumstance, this is hard to do but it’s extra hard for me lately. I’ll be honest - I’m not as good at it as you’d think I’d be by now. I just can’t stop thinking about time. You know when you look back on certain periods in your life and they seem really happy or really sad, but also really short? As you can imagine, that shortness feels terrifying now. Somehow though, at the same time it feels very misleading. Because in between the special moments we’re supposed to be sharing and major conversations to be having, there are also normal ups and downs of day-to-day life that mess up all the picturesque stuff that’s supposed to be happening. (See also: Birke gorging herself on massive quantities of dog food and probably spending the next few days pooping as much as an elephant.) I think this obsession with time is probably common with life-ending circumstances, but grappling with it in any productive way is currently way beyond my emotional maturity level. The only good to come of the grappling so far is that I’m pretty sure the life-ending scenarios we’re dealing with flashed into my eyes at the vet yesterday morning and nothing more needed to be said about the importance of saving our dog. Then later, just before I wrote this post, I sat cross-legged on the couch next to Sam in front of the fire at Kate’s house, my knee resting on his lap. Happy to have her home and healthy, I was petting Birkie while Sam ate a bowl of oatmeal and we talked about the day. In that moment, I simultaneously felt so content, and also like I wished I could pause the frame and somehow retain the ability to hover above it and re-play it over and over for the rest of my life. I know that, “the time Birkie ate so much she almost blew up her stomach” is one of the stories Sam would tell and re-tell with too much detail over and over. It feels good that we are still getting to make those stories together.
Elizabeth Hosch
3/28/2017 09:10:01 am
Oh, the day-to-day ordinary times, the stuff of real life. I love these times too. Hold tight to them, much love.
Abbey
3/28/2017 05:14:15 pm
Reading with so much love, awe and tears in my eyes. Love you.💜
marilyn tucker
3/29/2017 07:04:50 am
always happy to get an update from you - no matter what it is - and now the dog - omg - I remember when my MEG ate a whole lb of Russell Stover chocolates - had then put with Christmas present I had purchased and YUP she found them - one sick puppy - Hi to you and SAM - glad you are in Madtown
Alida
3/29/2017 07:56:06 am
I've said it before, but you have a truly unique way of flowing all of the ups, downs, chaos, bliss, knowns, and unknowns into words.
Melissa Malott
3/29/2017 07:06:43 pm
Oof. You both are such sparks of joy in the world. I'm thinking of you so much.
Kay Ladányi
3/31/2017 06:44:45 pm
I want you to know that I am thinking about you and Sam, and am sending my best wishes and love to you both. Cousin Kay Shuart Ladányi Comments are closed.
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