Month: August 2012

Today was our first visit to the vet post-op. It’s been one week since Ray’s successful amputation surgery. He continues to do very well and amaze us overall.

We visited the vet so he could have a look at the incision and decide whether the stitches were ready to come out, if things appeared to be healing properly, etc. I must admit it was a bit of a shock seeing the length of the incision once all of the bandaging was removed. My husband got a bit choked up and had to turn away. There is easily a full 12″ of stitching, but the good news is that it’s healing beautifully. We’ve put Ray in a t-shirt so the incision can get a bit of air, and the stitches should come out Tuesday.

We had cut his meds down to twice a day doses of Tramadol, but I’m thinking that may have been somewhat premature. He was quite restless and couldn’t seem to get comfortable in my office this afternoon so I gave him a couple of pills. Maybe too much activity today with the vet visit and all. He settled right down for a snooze shortly thereafter. I guess that’s what they mean by administering “as needed.”

Another good thing is that Ray’s voracious appetite has slowly returned. That had me a bit worried as 1) we used to joke that “if Ray doesn’t eat, there’s something wrong with him” and 2) he’s already lost 25 lbs in the last six months. Before the cancer diagnosis, he was quite a big boy and we started walking him longer and cutting back on his food a bit, which worked well, but now I’d like to see him re-gain 5 lbs or so.

I started my outdoor walking regimen again yesterday and really missed having Ray with me. I know we may never be able to do the mile loop of our neighborhood again, but I sure hope he’ll be able to go for at least short walks someday.

Things continue to go well with Ray’s recovery as we monitor his progress and help to provide his basic needs.

He is sleeping a lot, and that’s the best thing. His appetite is also beginning to return to ravenous pre-surgery levels. When he needs to go, he is able to hop outside, with us by his side, and do his business no problem. Reminds me of Forrest Gump’s quote to describe his marathon-running phase: “When I got tired, I slept. When I got hungry, I ate. When I had to go…you know…I went.”

We are keeping a watchful eye on him from a close proximity and allowing him to not only see what he is capable of with three legs, but some of the adjustments required. For example, he is learning to keep his three remaining feet on carpet (as opposed to tiled floor) in order to more easily get up from a laying position without slipping too much. I have bought and laid down additional runner rugs to help maintain a continuous path of carpet throughout the house to help him with this, but it is still a learning process, as he used to love laying on the tiled floor to cool his tummy. Ray is a smart dog, though, and he is seeing things are different.

I think he’s going through a bit of depression too, in realizing what’s happened to him. Then again, maybe it’s the meds. Hard to tell. He’s also having really frequent, vivid dreams, with lots of running, eye twitching and snuffling. I have to wonder if he’s imagining himself on four legs or three. Hopefully, in the near future, the “new normal” will be just that.

Our boy is home already and doing great!

We had a call from the hospital this morning at 8 that Ray had had a good night and was handling things well. This afternoon, the doctor felt he was dealing with reduced pain med levels well enough to go home! I frantically vacuumed and washed towels and dog bedding, wanting to have a clean environment ready for him.

At the hospital, Ray came hopping down the hall with enthusiasm and energy. He spotted my husband and I waiting and the tail was set a-wagging. We greeted him with equal enthusiasm, no tears. The doctor remarked that, amazingly, he is probably in less pain now than he was with the tumor.

He is heavily bandaged and will remain so for the next 7-10 days until the sutures come out. Back on the Tramadol at regular intervals. Heat packs on top of the bandage a few times a day to promote healing. He has already shown a great enthusiasm for water, baked chicken breast and his favorite spot under the kitchen table, so things seem to be returning to normal pretty quickly. He is able to hop outside to wee just fine, with us close by to monitor, of course.

The weight lifted from our shoulders feels enormous. I can’t thank everyone here enough for your support and encouragement.

Just got word from the doctor that Ray’s surgery is complete and went very well. No evidence of tumor spread beyond where it was in his (former) elbow. He’ll probably stay at the hospital for two nights; if so, I’ll visit him tomorrow.

Thanks again to everyone for thoughts and prayers. Now we move on to recovery!

“Thank you to all of my new Tripawds friends for your best wishes and prayers on my surgery tomorrow! Mommy will keep you posted.”

I am sounding like a broken record lately, I think.

Another complication with Ray: Sunday morning we got up to discover he couldn’t stand. At all. He had absolutely no strength in his hind legs.

We literally carried all 80 lbs of him to the Jeep and got him to the emergency vet pronto, which resulted in…pretty much nothing. Without a more extensive exam (and I refused x-rays because we’d just taken a bunch and they were fine) they couldn’t tell us much of anything except nothing was broken.

Of course, my first thought and fear was that the nerve sheath tumor had somehow – already – moved into his spine. Despite being assured over and over that these tumors are extremely slow growing and highly unlikely to invade other parts of the body, I took my usual Chief Pessimist seat in the Pity Party Room. We put mats on the floor and cried and slept next to Ray most of the evening. I mulled on where to donate all of his leftover Milkbones, what I should do with his toys, etc. once he was gone. For me, it was that bad. My husband, who is English, tends to suffer in silence as many English people do. We were both inconsolable.

At 1 a.m., Ray started doing his little chirp noise and was restless. I opened my eyes to find him standing. On his own. I woke my husband. We helped Ray outside, where he quickly collapsed. Discouraged again, we brought him back in, made sure he was relatively comfortable, and went back to sleep. At 6 a.m., he became restless again and I awoke once more to find him standing on his own. A good sign, but I wasn’t convinced. Same thing, though – shortly after helping him outside, he would collapse in a heap.

At 8 a.m. we got him to our regular vets (who are absolute angels, by the way – don’t ever make fun of a Texas Aggie – A&M turns out the BEST veterinarians.) The doctor who has been seeing Ray through all of this worked us in, despite a packed schedule and he was very optimistic. He checked Ray’s reflexes – all good. We took Ray outside to observe him in the soft grass, and lo and behold, he was hopping around on three legs much better, like he had been Saturday before this sudden downturn. He has continued to improve throughout the day.

SO. Now the plan is to give Ray an extra day to recover from whatever happened, and amputation surgery will be Wednesday. And frankly, nobody’s sure what happened – Ray could have done something as simple as pull a muscle; with all of the extra exertion being put on his three good legs, that’s certainly possible. Then again, he could have an underlying back problem that may resurface later. Our strategy now is, if he comes through the amputation surgery ok but the hind leg lameness presents itself again, we will address it then. As the vet said, no matter what the situation, his tumor leg is still going to hurt him, so best to get it off.

When I was making Ray’s dinner tonight, he heard the familiar clanging of the stainless steel bowl and came hopping through the living room and into the kitchen like a crazy dog, ears flopping, tongue wagging, tail swinging. I can’t tell you how happy that made me.

Well, we’ve rescheduled Ray’s surgery for this coming Tuesday. It was supposed to be Thursday the 23rd, but he’s been in a terrible amount of pain lately so we were able to get an earlier slot. We’ve upped his Tramadol dosage quite a bit (under the vet’s supervision, of course) and are just trying to keep him relatively comfortable. Will be so glad when this is over with and Ray is (hopefully) on the road to recovery.

It’s funny how your perspective can change with the circumstances. Earlier this week, we were dreading the prospect of the amputation of Ray’s front right leg due to a nerve sheath tumor. Now we’re asking, “Ok, how soon can we get that leg removed?”

The news from the cardiologist today was excellent: no evidence of any kind of heart disease or anything else that would cause Ray’s heart rate to jump so dramatically just before surgery. After ruling out any cardio issues, we elected to go the next step and have them also perform an abdominal ultrasound to eliminate the prospect of renal (liver, kidneys, etc.) tumors, which the surgeon cited as a possible cause too. All clear there as well. (I was particularly relieved to be given his clean bill of internal health in general, knowing what we know about Goldens leading all other dog breeds in various cancers and diseases.)

So, now our baby resembles “a moth-eaten blanket,” as the vet technician said today with a laugh; Ray is shaved over about half his body, and not symmetrically, so he looks awful. (Probably a bit of a relief when it’s 103° outside, however.) But he is happy and managing the pain better now that we’ve switched to Tramadol, and although we still don’t know what caused his racing pulse, at least we know what didn’t.

Because the nerve sheath tumors are somewhat slow to grow, we have a bit of breathing room to decide what’s next. And that’s the question really: what do we do now? The general recommendation is that we try the amputation surgery again, with an alternative anesthesia plan. Tomorrow we’ll be conferring with our vet and the surgeon, but after today’s news, there doesn’t seem to be any reason not to give it another go.

Thank you everyone for your thoughts, prayers and support. Today was a good Ray day.

Not good news on Ray this morning. They put him under anesthesia and were just about to operate when his heart rate became dangerously elevated. The doctor brought him back up and his heart rate is stabilizing, but surgery is postponed for the foreseeable future. We are scheduled to visit with a cardiologist tomorrow to determine if there are other issues. Please continue to keep us in your thoughts.

Well, this is the last day our golden retriever, Ray, will be on four legs.

He was diagnosed with a nerve sheath tumor in his right front leg about two weeks ago and amputation surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning. (You can see in the photo where the biopsies were taken from his elbow.)

Unfortunately, tumor excision and radiation were not much of an option in this case. These tumors are notoriously hard to get out due to their tendency to wrap around muscles and nerves, and if they aren’t completely, 100% removed, they are nearly guaranteed to come back. The good news in all of this is that, once his leg is removed, the cancer should be gone too. Dogs who have limbs amputated due to bone cancer are not usually so lucky, as that type of cancer is particularly aggressive and can both return and metastisize to the organs. Nerve sheath tumors tend to stay localized. We have confirmed through x-rays that his chest is clear and the other bone structures (hips, left leg) do not show any type of cancer.

He’s been sleeping a lot the past couple of days and is running a bit of a temperature. I’m glad he doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him tomorrow. But relief from the constant pain in his leg will hopefully, eventually bring things back to relative normalcy. We have been assured numerous times that most dogs, after a period of healing and adjustment, do just great on three legs.

Ray has been such a joy to my husband and me, especially since the loss of our 16-year-old mutt in March, because of his loving, happy demeanor. It’s our turn to be there for him now.