My name is Sara - Molly's Mum. Molly is an 11-year-old Shitzu X. We live in beautiful Brisbane, Australia. I'll get the serious stuff out of the way first. In October 2017 I discovered a hard lump about the size of a pea on the side of Molly's foot. Upon removal they found it to be malignant. We returned to the vet the following week to have her toe and part of her foot removed. It was a very serious time for me (and her obviously) but, to this day Molly is cancer free. On March 29, 2018 I was admitted to hospital for a colonoscopy. I was 53-years-old, fit, active; worked a physical full time job and ate well. My only symptom was that I had a slightly low blood count and I took iron pills so that I could continue to donate blood. The colonoscopy revealed a tumor the size of a tennis ball on the righthand side of my bowel. I have Stage IV bowel cancer with liver mets.
Since that day last year I have had the pleasure of a hemicolectomy, 3x liver resections (and guess who was petrified of liver surgery) and 24 rounds of chemotherapy (with another 10 scheduled).
So.. I'm extremely protective of Molly - and she of me. I tell her every day - she's my girl. Plus, she plays a massive role in my recovery because she's my workout partner.
Once at the very early stages of my cancer diagnosis (April 18) I typed this really longwinded text intended for one of my sons about my diagnosis, prognosis, oncologist and treatment plan. But instead of sending it to him, I sent it accidentally to -- Molly's clipper .. and .. (Still embarrassed - Damn if I'm not stupid sometimes!!) - not sure if she really knew how to answer or what the heck to even think!! Anyway, I ended up kinda saying "please disregard last message - apart from being really sick I'm plainly an idiot!" So she thinks I'm a bit silly.
Anyhow, I've had some pretty hardcore reflection time over the last few weeks. Recovery from a third liver resection and choosing to face another 12 rounds (22-34) of chemo can surely do that to a girl .. I guess I just realised that despite everybody's best efforts shit happens and not everything goes according to plan (Yeah I admit: It's been a rough couple weeks.)
For some reason or another Molly hasn't been to the clippers for a while (I've been doing bits and pieces myself since I've had the time) but I made some firm decisions yesterday. Now I'm the first to admit that Molly is a handful - I created it - she's plain spoiled. I decided yesterday that I want for her to be regularly clipped from now on and - I want her to look forward to it. Regardless of my future this would take a weight off my mind that she wouldn't be stressed. It's a good plan right?
I phoned the same clipper - Yeah that one that read basically my whole diagnosis and treatment plan and I started to waffle on the phone. I started with my name and "Yeah-I'm Molly's mum .. not sure if you remember me - dot dot dot." I gotta push on. "I want to make a booking but I just need to be sure that Molly won't be stressed. I'm happy to pay more if she needs for you to be extra patient."
To which she replied (and this should have been a clue .. ) "... we would never rush a dog ..." So I blathered on for a few more minutes about how important Molly is to me and how lovely she is, then to make the booking she said "sorry .. what was your name?" She literally had zero idea who this mad woman was on the phone. And yeah I'm still embarrassed. I'm gonna need to wear a disguise.
Stay well people!