Balancing hope and reality

I answered the phone. And all is not lost. Our dog named Cat still has a chance. And we're holding on to hope.

According to the IMG00221-20100126-1531vet, Cat has Chylothorax disease, which is extremely rare in dogs. Options are limited, he says, but she may be able to pull through. Right now she's at my feet while I type, unaware that I'm gonna be shoving more pills down her throat in a few minutes to fight infection and help with inflammation. And Friday we return to the vet for her chest cavity to be drained of fluid build-up once again.

It might seem like we are only buying time. And maybe we are. But we're using that time to get educated. I refuse to blindly agree to euthanasia when/if the option is presented without doing my own homework. And so far, we're dissecting one comment from the vet who examined Cat that I doubt he paid much attention to.

Turns out, Cat is the 6th animal (3 dogs and 2 cats, I believe) who has been treated for Chylothorax in his office in the last eight weeks. From research and conversations with friends in the industry, we know that this is a crazy-big number for one doctor to be seeing in a lifetime, let alone such a short time-span. And since Chylothorax can sometimes be the result of a fungal infection, we're going all Nancy Drew and concluding that she contracted Valley Fever, which resulted in her present condition.

I'll have an answer in a week. Maybe we're wrong. But if we're right, there's more hope because we know how to proceed.

I read a book once by a self-published author about her quest to save her cancerous dog's life. The book sucked. It was badly written and well, that's probably why it was self-published, but all I could think as I read page after page telling of cross-country flights on her husband's private plane to specialists for expensive treatments and resting in their "mountain home," was that she was loaded beyond belief. There was no way in hell I'd ever utter the words "cost is not an issue" to save a pet's life.

Must be nice, right?

But as painful as the book was to read from a writer's perspective, there was no denying the author's love for her friend. She moved heaven and earth to do what she could for that dog.

I wish I had a private plane. Because then, cost wouldn't be an issue.

My bank account isn't big enough to get God's attention for a temporary celestial relocation, but that's okay. We've got hope. And for now, that's enough.