It’s Always Something

Well, it’s been awhile since we posted. You’ll have to forgive me, I have been living in complete and utter craziness. I have been sick three, yes three, times in the last month and a half. Anyways, onto the important stuff.

Olive started her fourth set of Cytarabine treatments today. Chemotherapy is chaotic to say the least. So much goes into this crazy operation. Olive’s blood cell levels have to be right, her temperature has to be up to par, she can’t have any infections, and her liver enzymes have to be within normal ranges. As life would have it, last night Olive started limping. Great.

So, I took my neurotically paranoid self to the computer and googled “dog limping.” When that turned up with a gajillion results I looked up “how to find out why your dog is limping” and then I sat down with my furkid, on the ground, armed with a flashlight. Olive was looking at me like I lost my mind, and she very well knew I had, so she just sat there and cocked her head as I examined her paw millimeter by millimeter. I found nothing. Not good. All I could think was “now we will have to delay chemo, I’ll have to get another day off of work, and my dog is in pain.” It’s funny, for someone who for a living aids people In reframing and identifyig the positives I was pretty intent with being negative. That is, until Olive ran up the stairs and started playing with her sister, no limp in sight.

Of course, her limp still existed the next morning prior to chemo. That was okay, because I woke up refreshed and okay with whatever plan was developed. The neurologist ended up OK-ing her chemo and we set up an appointment later in the day before her next dose to have her paw looked at. Guess what the vet found? Nothing. They think she stepped on a small thorn and her paw is irritated. Of-freaking-course. So chemo continues. Additionally Olive’s meds are being reduced to 125mg Keppra 2x daily. I could literally see Olive smile when she heard that.

My sweet girl is sometimes chaotic. I think at times she tests my sanity, and I know that at all times she loves me. What a wonderful chaotic mess. I could not imagine it any other way.  Our little journey together is amazing, frightening, and most importantly, a blessing.

How Beautiful a Day

The sun rises and falls on its own pattern, its own schedule. This is life in a nutshell. We can’t control it, can’t predict it, only accept what it brings us and readjust. My hero Olive does this amazingly well.

It’s been 3 days since the completion of Olive’s first set of cytarabine injections and my Little Warrior is taking it like a champ *knock on wood*. She still runs, plays, and showers me with kisses. From research I’ve read, it’s the seventh day that is toughest. However, Olive doesn’t live waiting for her difficult day, for the trouble, for worry. No, instead she powers on providing others with support in times of emotional need. She prepares for success and jubilee instead of living in fear.

You see, even in devastation there is beauty. In fire there is life, and in ice there is preservation.  In wind there is pollination and in rain, replenishing. Olive knows that even after pain there is reward and after fear there is love. Olive, just like the day, shows me that it is important to rise after every fall and that the brilliance of a sunrise outshines the night.

Sometimes I get Jealous

Emotions are a funny thing. You can be on an upward path to your happy place and then bam some other thanks-but-no-thanks emotion slaps you in the face.

I get that sometimes. 

It’s a weird, often times, two-toned feeling. The kind of dual feeling that has you reflecting on your luck and lack of it at the same time. The Alice in Wonderland kind of confusion where you wonder what it really is that your emotions are trying to tell you.

Today I felt jealousy. It hit me right when I woke up and checked good ol’ trusty Facebook. First post was a mutual friend celebrating her pups first birthday today. Immediately I felt a pang. I was cheated from Olive’s first birthday. That was the day from hell. I spent it crying, running her from hospital to hospital, watching her suffer. How unfair that I have that memory on her birthday.

And then the duality of it. 

How lucky am I that she made it to her first birthday, how lucky am I to have her past her first birthday? Incredibly lucky. That is the answer. The hard part of it all is not feeling guilty when I feel mad, frustrated, or upset. I am allowed to feel that, that is okay.  That is normal. That doesn’t mean I’m not grateful, that means I’m human.

And more than anything that means I love Olive with every ounce, every thought of my being.