I just called to cancel my appointment today and send the message about
my disappointment that the vet was unwilling to discuss things over the
phone. They put me on hold and the vet came on with apologies for the
misunderstanding. She said she had some blunt advice for me and
thought it better to discuss it in person. Of course her "blunt"
advice
was no worse than the conclusions I'd already come to on my own. They
do, as does Michelle, suspect strongly that he has lymphoma. They are
still hesitant to treat for it without further confirmation, but I got
the distinct impression that if I insisted, they would. Both doctors
feel that aggressive cancer treatment would, at best, buy him limited
time, and disrupt the quality of life he is experiencing now. She said
that she has, in cases like this, tapered the steroid dose, (after
initial
daily dosing), to eod in an attempt to avoid prolonged use reactions.
Unfortunately, the result in
these cases is usually the same, the cat crashes and there's no way to
tell if it's a result of prolonged steroid use, the tapering of the
steroid, or the lymphoma itself. Nasty business this.
So, even with discussing things over with the vet, my decision made
this morning stands for now. I wish there were some way to make
Spencer "all better", since that doesn't appear to be possible, (at
least not without Divine Intervention, and I don't need a vet for
that), I will make the time he has the best quality that I can.
Nina
Nina wrote:
Hello Everyone,
That was my first reaction too. I even said to the vet's assistant
that I needed my answers BEFORE I brought Spencer in again. It was her
suggestion to bring him anyway. Let me clarify something ... The
doctor that is insisting on the consultation in person is not my
regular internist. She got on the case because when Spencer was
failing, my regular vet was not on duty and I wanted him seen asap.
I've been tip toeing around trying not to offend this woman, she has
been pretty good for the most part and I figured three heads were
better than two.
I've been thinking long and hard about all this, as you can imagine. I
have been talking to Spencer, doing my best to make a decision based on
everyone's best interests. The pressure to decide quickly (given that
remission is more likely in the beginning stages of cancer), has made
it all the more difficult to think clearly. I'm disappointed that the
vet won't discuss things over the phone and I don't have enough history
with her to assume she's right in insisting that I come in there.
Perhaps she's just tired of trying to discuss things with me over the
phone and through a third party. (Every answer she gives me prompts
two or three more questions).
Looking at Spencer, seeing the burst of quality life the steroid shots
have given him, suspecting that putting him through the tests, office
visits and treatments, will at best buy him more time, but not
necessarily QUALITY time... I'm having a hard time making my decision
final by writing to all of you about it, but I am very close to
deciding to stop all hope of a medical intervention miracle and just
enjoy the time we have together as things stand. That doesn't mean
that I'll ever give up hope that Spencer will somehow miraculously
rally, that by some chance he doesn't have cancer at all, it's all a
big mistake and he'll just continue to improve and get well. I have,
however, been around this disease long enough to recognize the sounding
of the closing bell when I hear it. I can't tell you the number of
times my heart has sank reading posts on this list from kitty guardians
with the same symptoms that Spencer has presented.
I was discussing with my sister yesterday about how reluctant I am to
put Spencer through any more stress. About how even if we did get a
definitive diagnosis of a specific cancer, I'm not at all sure I'd want
to treat him for it. Something my sister said has been echoing through
my mind... She said, it seemed to her that putting Spencer through a
battery of tests with the HOPE, (not the suspicion), of it being
something curable, was not reason enough to disturb what may very well
be his last days. I've always been grateful when one of my loved ones
has had good final days with a quick and peaceful passing. Buying more
time with Spencer, if that's even possible, does not seem worth the
cost.
I just got a call from Hideyo. Hideyo reminded me that animals live in
the NOW. Taking a moment away from the rambling I've been doing to you
kind folks has helped. I went and gave Spencer some food. Petting
him as he ate, I felt some of this awful weight lifting from both our
shoulders. I'm not saying I won't change my mind again, but I'm
feeling a sense of calm and peace that has been rare since Spence first
started showing symptoms. It leads me to believe I'm on the right
track here. He came back from what seemed like the dead to be with
me. That's just what I'm going to allow him to do; BE with me in the
now.
Thanks for being my sounding board and indulging me while I think out
loud. As always, I'm so very grateful to the support of this group,
Nina
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