This is the hardest post I've ever had to write. I am crumbling in pain, both mentally and physically drained. I'm a car running on fumes.
Life is unfair.
It's probably too soon that I am writing this, but I think it's also part of the grieving and healing process.
Whitney Dog crossed over to the rainbow bridge today. It was sudden and unforeseen. I'm full of denial, unacceptance, and anger. I know I can't go around hating the world, but that's my coping mechanism right now and I'm going with that.
We have received so much support and kind words, I can even begin to return all of the messages that we have received today. You know who you are and thank you for your support.
I know there is a lot of people wanting to know...What happened. It all started two months ago when she started not eating her "regular" dog food. She was also vomited quite a few times that week. Doug took her into our vet and they did a x-ray noting bone fragments in digestive system, but they should be small enough to eventually pass on their own. Whitney was given some anti-nausea medication and an antacid. If she wasn't getting better in a month or two we should bring her back in.
After the vet visit, she seemed to improve. She ate her food better and acted like her normal self. In the last 2 weeks she started to slide backwards again. While Doug and I were on vacation she taken to the vet by my dad as she started vomiting again. Again she was given anti-nausea medication and antacid and she seemed to turn around yet again. That all changed Monday when she starting vomiting again. We called the vet, they suggest we do a biopsy or ultra sound. We chose to be more conservative and schedule an ultra sound as soon as we were able (Friday was the scheduled appointment). She continue to do fairly well until Wednesday.
On Wednesday she stopped wagging her tail (something I've never seen, I didn't know it could stop). I couldn't get her excited, she was clearly sick, very sick. Last night we snuggled in bed and I knew, I just knew something was really wrong. She was so warm---I ended up giving her some Tylenol to bring down her temp. I texted Doug and said, "I don't think she is going to make it this time, she is so weak."
This morning we agreed Doug would check on her at noon to see how she was doing. He called me shortly after and said that he was on the way to the vet. I asked him to pick me up from work and I would go with.
We talked about options, never about cost. You can't put a price on a family member period. We asked for another x-ray to be done. This is where we learned the beginning of the worst. When the doctor came in the room with the comparison x-rays, I knew it was bad before she showed us results. When my eyes met hers my eyes welled up. She said, "It's not good news." The bone fragments have moved some, but they haven't passed as they should have. Also the x-ray shows fluid in her chest as well as a mass around the bone fragments. The only option for survival was surgery.
Emergency surgery was started. The surgery revealed the worst of worst of any diagnosis, pancreatic cancer. Her tumor ruptured and caused a massive infection called peritonitis---which is often/usually fatal. With the combination of pancreatic cancer, she only had hours to a day to survive. Pancreatic cancer is one of the or is the hardest cancers to treat. Whitney's tumor was baseball sized. She has been sick for a while and we hadn't known it. The tumor hide between her spleen and liver so it wasn't detectable. This is often the case with this type of cancer, it's rarely caught in time and is very, very aggressive.
After surgery we opted to wake her up to say our goodbyes. We needed closure and we needed to see her big brown eyes one more time. We were her world...everyone else were just there, we were her everything. She was my shadow everywhere I went, she was my best friend. We found each other 8 years ago and we had a special bond, she didn't have with anyone else.
It's hard to sit and type this entry and see her empty space on the couch, walk by her dog dish, know when I go to bed tonight, she won't be curled up underneath the bed and for story time tonight, she won't be laying next to the bed in Harrison's room. There will be no more mornings of tail wagging, so excited to see you it's like Christmas day morning, every morning. She loved life.
We have 8 beautiful, wonderful years of memories. I should be thankful for that---but it wasn't enough. 3 years ago in October would have marked her survival from a mysterious diagnosis that was expected to take her life. She proved the modern world of medicine wrong. Somehow I thought this made her invincible.
I'm greedy...If I could hold on to her forever I would have.
I know she is has crossed over the rainbow bridge where there are plenty of squeaky tennis balls she can rip the fur off of and chew up their squeakers.
The next part is our turn to learn to live with her memories and accept her passing. It's going to be a journey full of bumps, sad tears, happy tears, smiles, anger everything in between.
Whitney Dog I know you know how much we loved you. We will forever be your everything and you will forever be in our hearts. Your two boys will grow up to know that you were such a special part of their lives and Violet puppy---well you know, she's got room for improvement. :)
LOVE you my Whitney Dog.
Life is unfair.
It's probably too soon that I am writing this, but I think it's also part of the grieving and healing process.
Whitney Dog crossed over to the rainbow bridge today. It was sudden and unforeseen. I'm full of denial, unacceptance, and anger. I know I can't go around hating the world, but that's my coping mechanism right now and I'm going with that.
We have received so much support and kind words, I can even begin to return all of the messages that we have received today. You know who you are and thank you for your support.
I know there is a lot of people wanting to know...What happened. It all started two months ago when she started not eating her "regular" dog food. She was also vomited quite a few times that week. Doug took her into our vet and they did a x-ray noting bone fragments in digestive system, but they should be small enough to eventually pass on their own. Whitney was given some anti-nausea medication and an antacid. If she wasn't getting better in a month or two we should bring her back in.
After the vet visit, she seemed to improve. She ate her food better and acted like her normal self. In the last 2 weeks she started to slide backwards again. While Doug and I were on vacation she taken to the vet by my dad as she started vomiting again. Again she was given anti-nausea medication and antacid and she seemed to turn around yet again. That all changed Monday when she starting vomiting again. We called the vet, they suggest we do a biopsy or ultra sound. We chose to be more conservative and schedule an ultra sound as soon as we were able (Friday was the scheduled appointment). She continue to do fairly well until Wednesday.
On Wednesday she stopped wagging her tail (something I've never seen, I didn't know it could stop). I couldn't get her excited, she was clearly sick, very sick. Last night we snuggled in bed and I knew, I just knew something was really wrong. She was so warm---I ended up giving her some Tylenol to bring down her temp. I texted Doug and said, "I don't think she is going to make it this time, she is so weak."
This morning we agreed Doug would check on her at noon to see how she was doing. He called me shortly after and said that he was on the way to the vet. I asked him to pick me up from work and I would go with.
We talked about options, never about cost. You can't put a price on a family member period. We asked for another x-ray to be done. This is where we learned the beginning of the worst. When the doctor came in the room with the comparison x-rays, I knew it was bad before she showed us results. When my eyes met hers my eyes welled up. She said, "It's not good news." The bone fragments have moved some, but they haven't passed as they should have. Also the x-ray shows fluid in her chest as well as a mass around the bone fragments. The only option for survival was surgery.
Emergency surgery was started. The surgery revealed the worst of worst of any diagnosis, pancreatic cancer. Her tumor ruptured and caused a massive infection called peritonitis---which is often/usually fatal. With the combination of pancreatic cancer, she only had hours to a day to survive. Pancreatic cancer is one of the or is the hardest cancers to treat. Whitney's tumor was baseball sized. She has been sick for a while and we hadn't known it. The tumor hide between her spleen and liver so it wasn't detectable. This is often the case with this type of cancer, it's rarely caught in time and is very, very aggressive.
After surgery we opted to wake her up to say our goodbyes. We needed closure and we needed to see her big brown eyes one more time. We were her world...everyone else were just there, we were her everything. She was my shadow everywhere I went, she was my best friend. We found each other 8 years ago and we had a special bond, she didn't have with anyone else.
It's hard to sit and type this entry and see her empty space on the couch, walk by her dog dish, know when I go to bed tonight, she won't be curled up underneath the bed and for story time tonight, she won't be laying next to the bed in Harrison's room. There will be no more mornings of tail wagging, so excited to see you it's like Christmas day morning, every morning. She loved life.
We have 8 beautiful, wonderful years of memories. I should be thankful for that---but it wasn't enough. 3 years ago in October would have marked her survival from a mysterious diagnosis that was expected to take her life. She proved the modern world of medicine wrong. Somehow I thought this made her invincible.
I'm greedy...If I could hold on to her forever I would have.
I know she is has crossed over the rainbow bridge where there are plenty of squeaky tennis balls she can rip the fur off of and chew up their squeakers.
The next part is our turn to learn to live with her memories and accept her passing. It's going to be a journey full of bumps, sad tears, happy tears, smiles, anger everything in between.
Whitney Dog I know you know how much we loved you. We will forever be your everything and you will forever be in our hearts. Your two boys will grow up to know that you were such a special part of their lives and Violet puppy---well you know, she's got room for improvement. :)
LOVE you my Whitney Dog.
