Trying to get back to real time on here. Today is tough. I did a three-week postmortem freakout that I had misdiagnosed Ebony’s disease as metastatic neoplasia instead of (still bleak but treatable) systemic fungal infection. Do not worry. I did not. No one is more neurotic, obsessive and self-critical than me when it comes to medical treatment of my patients, which I have never tried to reign in because…well, honestly, it serves me well.
DEFINITIVE diagnosis: metastatic neoplasia.
Presumptive underlying cancer: hemangiosarcoma (That one is an educated guess, not a certainty. But it sure acted as evil as hemangiosarcoma, wouldn’t you say?)
I will continue through my own special stages of grief…
- Anger at anyone who has a black/old with white face/cute dog, especially one whose tail wags lazily as they walk
- Freaking out
I am kind of looking forward to the sadness stage. I am sorry Russ and all of you out walking your dogs around Omaha these last few beautiful days to have dragged you through my anger stage with my scowling and growling. Your black/old with white face/cute dogs, especially ones whose tails wags lazily as they walk are beautiful, and I am glad that you have them.
In fact I have two beautiful dogs of my own. And a cat. Which brings me to what I actually MEANT to say today…I love my pets and I intend to consciously appreciate them on a day-to-day basis. (I was going to spare you all the crazy, but I will leave it as is. Maybe some day it will be fun to look back and laugh at how neurotic I am.)
I think I will come back TOMORROW and post specifically about Max the Cat. This is quite enough for one day, don’t you think? I do. Apparently the internet does not agree. When I was frantically looking through radiographs of veterinary and human medical sites, (Yes, why? How do you freak out?) I switched one search (“thoracic” “radiographs” “neoplasia”) to “Images” and this happened…
Eb, you’re gorgeous. I sure miss you, Friend.
Tags: Ebony Dog