Winston, our family dog, has cancer. He’s been diagnosed with canine lymphoma, which isn’t all that different from human lymphoma. The treatments are very similar, and we’ve started him on something called the Wisconsin protocol for treatment. This is a 26 week program that has shots or pills administered weekly. He got his first dosage of Asparagine a week ago Friday, and a followup dose on Monday of Vincristine. He’s been taking prednisone daily as well.

His lymphnodes shrunk down to almost nothing within 48 hours. His tonsils were lymphnodes, and swollen so much he wasn’t eating and was getting weak. It was wonderful to see that chemicals can really attack the cancer - he was back to himself in no time. We didn’t see any negative side effects, until this Friday night.

He started being lathargic and not eating. Then the vomiting started. We were told these were just side effects of the drugs, so we didn’t worry too much about it, although we were concerned. Over the next few days, he couldn’t even keep ice cubes down. Mom took him to the vet today, and they found his white blood cell count was dangerously low… a sign the chemo was doing too good a job. Mom said that she had to carry him out of the car into the vet, he was that weak. He’s on IVs and they’re working on controlling his stomach problems and white blood cell count. He was supposed to start his second week of the Wisconsin protocol today, but they’ve put that off. Apparently, his white blood count had him pretty close to death. He’s overnight at the vet tonight, and maybe tomorrow night too, if he doesn’t improve.

Winston is such a great little dog; so affectionate, so caring, so smart. It really breaks everyones hearts who knows him that he’s going through such troubles. He’s such an important part of my life, and my family’s life that it really sucks. He’s young, only six years, and has a good chance at beating lymphoma into remission if he can stay healthy. The fact his first week of chemo nearly did him in is not a good sign. I lit a candle tonight and said a little prayer. I hope that all the God fearing people reading this do the same. Tonight, the reality has sunk in with me that we’re going to lose Winston a lot earlier than I want, even if he does get out of the hospital this time.

Winston really needs us right now, and we really needs him. The candle I lit was small; almost gone, really. It’s been burning brightly since I lit it, not seeming to mind that it may extinguish soon. If that’s a metaphor for Winston, I hope that this little candle burns brightly and strongly for a long, long time. And I hope that when it does finally go out, I hope it finishes with a quick, simple plume of smoke. Peacefully, not painfully.

I don’t think I can write anymore right now. All for now.