Postscript.

Sophie died on December 1st. It was the right day. A day earlier, I would have had hope for recovery. A day later, I would have felt guilty for putting her through extra pain.

The last month was glorious. We increased the piroxicam, and the uplift was immediate. B. even started taking her back to the dog park. Sophie caught toys and played hide-and-seek and performed tricks we hadn’t seen in a year.

We all went to a relatives’ house for Thanksgiving, and Sophie had two accidents. She never, never had accidents but we assumed it was from all the excitement. She was sick through the weekend, but we dismissed it as something she ate at Thanksgiving.

But by Tuesday, we knew things were serious and weren’t surprised when the vet said there was nothing left to do.

As devastated as we feel, we are mindful of the extra time we had. Sophie should have died of chondrasarcoma. But thanks to diligent veterinarians, one debulking surgery, and 21 radiation sessions, she was thriving. She never had another symptom and didn’t even develop cataracts from the radiation.

Her downfall was, instead, transitional cell carcinoma (TCC) that was growing in her urethra. Either the tumor or a bladder stone blocked her urethra so that she couldn’t urinate, resulting in too much potassium in her system which led to heart failure.

If you happened to catch this blog because you were looking for information on canine chondrosarcoma, welcome. It’s full of good news– our experience with debulking and radiation was easy, routine, and worth every penny. I hope you can benefit from our experience.

 

Good-bye Sophie.

Separation

Your absence has gone through me

Like thread through a needle.

Everything I do is stitched with its color.

–W.S. Merwin

 

Day-to-day

We are in a worrisome time for Sophie– every expression and action is analyzed, looking for clues about pain and mood.

Overall, she is slowing down. She no longer greets me when I come home or wags her tail as often as she used to. But she still runs to the kitchen when I open the refrigerator door, and is super-cuddly every evening.

It’s clear that her bladder is bothering her. On a walk, Sophie walks a few feet, and then squats like she needs to pee. She holds that position for 30 seconds, continues the walk and then squats again. Needless to say, we don’t get very far.

A recent vet visit indicates that she has bladder stones; they can’t be treated except for surgery, but maybe they can be slowed through diet. She continues to take piroxicam every-other day.

One of those hard letting go things: Sophie’s dog license was up for renewal. I got a rabies exemption from the vet (they will write a letter upon request, no problem) that said “due to Sophie’s advanced cancer…” Somehow, I hadn’t thought of her cancer as advanced.  And I only paid for a year’s license. While I desperately hope that I’ll get to renew it next year, I’m trying to face facts.

 

The First Last

This past weekend was Sophie’s last visit to the dog park. She doesn’t seem to enjoy the company of other dogs anymore. The local dog park has been part of the daily routine for almost eleven years.

Currently Sophie is producing only a little urine, red with blood, due to an infection.  A slick discharge suggests that the tumor has broken through the vaginal wall.  She may also be suffering from a bleeding ulcer, a side effect of the piroxicam. 

Despite all this bad news, the past week was a good one. Sophie now takes Cephalexin for the infection and her energy level increased immediately after starting it. She is also getting phenoxybenzamine to help relax her muscles and pee more easily. She is still taking piroxicam in hopes of shrinking the tumor, but the side effects are mitigated by sucralfate which helps protect and coat her stomach. 

Sophie continues to enjoy multiple walks each day, to jump for joy at breakfast time, and to snuggle on the sofa in the evening. While we might mourn the loss of our dog park visits, we’re also glad that it’s the only activity ending for now.

 

Sophie’s second cancer

Sophie still has no real symptoms or side effects from her bout with canine nasal chondrosarcoma in 2007. She sneezes daily and is otherwise happy.

For the past several months, however, Sophie has seemingly suffered a never-ending urinary tract infection. She goes outside at every opportunity and takes a long time. At our last visit, the vet strongly suggested an ultrasound because she suspected bladder stones.

Sadly, the results were much worse. Sophie likely has transitional cell carcinoma. It’s a nasty, aggressive cancer of the bladder or the urethra. This cancer is completely unrelated to her previous struggle– it’s just her bad luck to get two icky cancers in the space of two years.

The vet has prescribed Piroxicam, which might help slow the tumor, and Misoprostol to offset any digestive problems caused by Piroxicam.

Beyond this palliative prescription, there is no real treatment– one can try surgery or chemotherapy, but the side effects frequently outweigh any additional survival time. We are switching to home-cooked meals that are gentle on her stomach, but aren’t making any other changes in our daily routine.

We had such success with Sophie’s first cancer that it’s hard to accept that we can’t do anything about this second scourge. We have absolutely no idea how much time she has left. Right now, she’s happy and generally healthy, and we’re going to enjoy each other for as long as we can.

 

Sneezy

Cancer is no longer a word we use daily and it’s hard to remember how scary it was when we started this journey. If you are looking for current information on canine nasal chondrosarcoma, there is an abundance of information online.

For general information from professional sites, try the del.icio.us links on the right hand side of this blog. Personal experiences abound; my favorite is  Lindsey Lou who shares the story of her dog Honey. The February and March 2007 entries include photos of Honey during various stages of treatment.

Yahoo groups has a community dedicated to all types of canine cancer. It’s a very supportive and active place.

Sophie continues to do quite well and shows very few signs of her cancer experience 18 months ago. In fact, she still hasn’t developed cataracts, which was the one side effect we expected to see by now. At ten years old, Sophie still looks and acts like a much younger dog.

The one daily reminder of her ordeal is that she suffers several bouts of sneezing every day. Anytime she wakes up from an extended nap, she sneezes repeatedly for several minutes.

Since we don’t have much to report, I don’t update this blog very often but I do read the comments. Leave a note if I can be of assistance.

Best of luck to you and your dog.

 

Bonus time.

It’s been nine months since our dog, Sophie, was diagnosed with canine chondrosarcoma. She’s doing great and I’m glad to see through the comments that folks have found this modest blog helpful. I hope you’ll consider creating your own blog and add to the resources available online. If you do, please send the link via the comments on this page.

A quick recap of our experience:

July 2007: Sophie begins to sneeze in a bizarre manner. Really, you can’t confuse this sneeze with a normal, everyday dog sneeze. Something is clearly wrong.

August 2007: Surgery to “debulk” the tumor; biopsy indicates chondrosarcoma, a cancer of the cartilage. The tumor has almost filled the right nostril, but has barely touched the left one; thankfully, the tumor has not pushed into her brain or eye.

September 2007: Full radiation– 21 sessions– each lasting 30 minutes. Sophie tolerates everything quite well. She does not seem bothered by the anesthesia and her side effects are very mild. Mostly, she suffers from fatigue, some hair loss, bleeding gums, sores on her mouth and lots of discharge from her nose and eyes.

January 2008: The sneezing returns, so Sophie has a CT scan. No cancer yet, but there is extensive scarring from the radiation.

April 2008: Sophie turns 10 years old. The hair she lost during radiation has grown in white. She has lots of energy and a hearty appetite.

Future: Sophie’s right eye will develop cataracts because it was in the radiation field. The cancer will return someday, but we hope it’s not for a very long time.

We know that we got very lucky, and we’re making the most of this extra time. I hope that you, too, are able to gain some quality time with your pet. Thanks for reading.

 

The new normal

Sophie went back to the vet this week. She had starting sneezing those abnormal sneezes again. They’re like potato chips– you can’t have just one; Sophie can easily sneeze 12 times in a row. I get tired just watching.

We had started to worry that the cancer had returned. There was the sneezing, an almost constant dripping from her nose and then an afternoon when she seemed off-balance and maybe dizzy.

The scan came back with good news; there’s lots of scar tissue in her nasal cavity but no signs of the cancer. The radiation has damaged the cartilage in her nose, making her less resistant to colds and other irritations. As the oncologist pointed out, this is the new normal. She can prescribe antibiotics if Sophie is truly sick but her energy level and appetite indicate that she feels fine.

There was just one worry: Sophie had a seizure before the scan. It’s possible that it was a reaction to the anesthesia but we can’t be sure.

I don’t know if you can see from the photograph, but the hair that she lost after radiation has grown back– and it’s white!

 

Moving past cancer

Sophie’s cancer has dominated our lives for the last two months. It was early August that her unusual sneezing sent us on this roller coaster– surgery, diagnosis, radiation, worrying.

We don’t know how much cancer remains– but we know it’s there. Sophie, however, only knows that she’s feeling better than ever. She’s got energy to spare– today, she practically dragged me all the way to the pet store. I’m just starting to realize how long she must have been affected by the tumor before we treated it. We had just assumed that her decreased endurance was due to age.

Cancer will eventually get our dog but for right now, life is really good.

I started this blog because I didn’t find much that captured the experience of having a dog with cancer. The blog stats show me that, sadly, lots of other people are looking for that kind of information, too. I hope this little blog provides some useful tidbits and a bit of hope.

Good luck to you and your pet.

 

Chatterbox

An unexpected side effect started this week. In the middle of the night, Sophie’s jaw started to tremble uncontrollably and make her teeth click violently together. This little tremor would continue for a minute, stop for a while and then start again. We were all scared and exhausted by sunrise.

The vet called this phenomenon “chattering”– it could indicate jaw pain (best case) or small seizures (worst case.) I read somewhere that it could be a side effect of the prednisone, but didn’t find anything authoritative to support that.

The chattering hasn’t stopped but it’s a lot less frequent. We’re hopeful that it’s a temporary side effect and will eventually pass.

Otherwise, Sophie is in good shape. Her eye is drippy but not disturbingly so; she has more saliva but I wouldn’t call it excessive. She’s been tired lately but I attribute that to all that late night chattering. For a dog who got a whole month of radiation, she’s holding up pretty well.

postscript: chattering lessened and then stopped shortly around the same time we stopped using prednisone.