The journey a family takes when their pet is diagnosed with osteosarcoma is a rare beast. After a month of unclear diagnosis, testing, front leg amputation, and newfound hope…we received news that Scarlett will only live 2-8 months.
When Scarlett first returned home from her surgery I wanted to document the entire recovery. Not just for myself and family, but for other tripawd family’s not knowing what to expect. The first week provided tons of blogging material. As Scarlett continued to recovery and gain mobility, it seemed odd post “Scarlett is doing awesome”, “Scarlett is still doing awesome”, etc. The recent sad news left me reflecting on the entire journey, and I made a few observations.
When your canine conrad first shows signs of distress, cancer is likely the last explanation crossing your mind. Be it a means of protection our our feelings or not, we often attribute the signs to many other possible ailments. Getting the diagnosis is almost impossible to soak in. One moment they are playing, barking, running and the next they are taken over by exhaustion and the darkness resurges in their eyes. Sincerely though, making the cognitive connection was and remains a challenge. You see a happy dog on the outside but cannot comprehend the sickness on the inside.
During Scarlett’s post-op appointment, during which the vet tech goes over the surgery and vet’s notes, I continue to dwell on one very hopeful quote. The vets notes read “Scarlett surgery went very well. We hope this will help the pain and let Scarlett live a long, happy life.” I didn’t read too much into this until the vet tech chimed in with “That’s really good. They don’t like giving false hope. So that’s good”… The constant flip flop of positive and negative news has let me frustrated and untrusting. We are give hope only to be followed by exponentially worse disappointments.
All in all, I cannot conceive a house without Scarlett in 2-8 months. I am sad that her life will be cut so short. Knowing she will be gone before her second birthday puts a knot in my throat that feels impossible to swallow. But worse that this, I am concerned that her last few months will be consumed with an indescribable pain that her humans cannot see. I hope that we can fight through the hopelessness and make Scarlett feel happy to still be here. So…when the surgery doesn’t work…it sucks. But we would never understand the true value of love without loss.