The Clouds Gather Over Ginny the Wonderful

Here is the update of the triple threat. Not much humor.


1. Me and Alvin.

As for me, I'm OK. All day and night, Alvin continues to chirp as he sends penicillin through a long tube in my right basilic vein in the upper arm. It's just an annoyance. Another 4 weeks to go with that.


2. K and Margins

As I said last time, K's surgeon excised her tumor on Halloween. The final pathology took a long time to come back. All of the tumor was DCIS (nonaggressive breast cancer). However, as we suspected the margins were not clear. The surgeon will have to go back in and get out the remaining tumor on December 3.  It is highly unlikely that they will find any aggressive cancer in those small bits of tumor. It's upsetting, but prognosis is good.


3. The Clouds Gather Over Ginny the Wonderful

As I said last time, on October 23, Ginny's prednisone dose was halved, and she started an oral chemotherapy drug called Palladia. The chances that Palladia would work were 40% or so. She is not in the 40%.

The tumors in her lymph nodes stopped shrinking. The Palladia made her nauseated, and she tried harder and harder to resist her medicines, holding her mouth shut ever more tightly, and cleverly cheeking the pills. Then, she started vomiting up everything, including food and water. Her eyes grew red and bleary, and she became weak and lethargic. She looked like she was dying.

Today, we took her to the oncologist, Dr. Cronin. Clearly, the Palladia did not work. Any other chemotherapy drug would cause a lot of side effects with little chance of success. All we can do now is maybe buy her a little time. Dr. Cronin gave us injectable drugs, including an antinausea drug, a steroid, and two other drugs to control the effects of the histamines that the tumors release. Dr. Cronin's nurse gave her the first doses along with a big bag of fluids to make up for the fact that she had not had any water for a day or two. It all went into the great pile of loose skin all dogs have over their shoulders. She hardly noticed. Then, leaving the clinic, I had to lift Ginny into the car.

We went home, and I sobbed for a few hours. I tried to nap, but I couldn't. I came downstairs and sat on the sofa, thinking I might do some work. But, suddenly, there was Ginny, standing up, looking right into my eyes, wagging her tail, and hyperventilating, which is how she asks for a walk. So K and I took her for a long walk through the neighborhood, and she ate her treats, ran around, and sniffed everything like she always has. Then, she had a fine hamburger for dinner.

We have our Ginny back. It's only for a short while. The steroid will freeze and maybe shrink the tumors, but the effect will wear off. It may get her another week or two. We will enjoy every moment she is still here.

We have decided that Ginny may eat all the cat poop she wants. 

After all, what's the harm?