Chemo Appointment #1: “Perfect Patient”

The morning finally arrived after what felt like an eternity (but was only four days). Honey’s first chemo appointment.

The days in between our initial consult and the chemo appointment were a deep struggle for me – Honey was fairly normal but a bit lethargic, and every possible fear assaulted me. I felt like we weren’t doing enough, even though she was on prednisone for the swelling of her lymph nodes.

Funny how I was suddenly so desperate for more time with her, yet anxious at every passing moment in which her cancer could be getting worse.

But the morning arrived and we hustled into the veterinary office. A friendly vet tech greeted us and took Honey back for her two-hour round of testes and then IV-fed chemo treatment.

John and I manifested our angst in different ways. He fidgeted a bit and worked from his phone, eyes always on the direction that Honey had been taken. I pulled out my laptop, wifi hotspot and tried to lose myself in emails and tasks to make the time pass quickly.

It did. An hour and fifty-two minutes later (I wasn’t counting or anything), Honey reappeared with the oncologist and her intern. Honey was bright-eyed and wagging her tail as much as ever. The only physical sign of the chemo was a purple band holding gauze around her leg where the IV had been.

“She was the perfect patient,” the doctor said immediately. Relief flooded every inch of my being.

Her vitals, bloodwork and urine analysis were all where they should be. She had gotten along well with the other dogs receiving treatment. Here are her discharge papers if you’d like to see: Honey Discharge.

“She likes treats with her chemo,” the oncologist continued. “So we gave her plenty of treats.”

We were sent home with a baggie of pharmaceuticals in case of side effects and Honey trotted out to the car happily. We were told to expect some lethargy for the rest of the day, but Honey kept her sparkle and spunk all day long.

That day was the first day I didn’t break down crying because of the overwhelming sense of helplessness. I feel like we’d made the right call with our baby, that we were doing something to fight back that would still leave her with a fairly normal life. If anything, Honey seems to be enjoying these vet visits a bit too much. 🙂

Into the second day after chemo, she was active and napping as much as normal. I’m eternally grateful for these moments and the validation. There is hope for Honey. And we’ll hold onto that.