The News

The News

I walked through the front door and Bailey greeted me with his tail wagging—but something was different. He wasn’t himself. He was slower and more lethargic than usual. The medication had helped him pee but he wasn’t 100%.

The next day I called Dr. Tung to ask about a stronger, more aggressive medication for Bailey. Dr. Tung prescribed the stronger meds but suggested that if Bailey isn’t back to normal in a few days that I should take him for an ultrasound. Sure enough, the stronger medication worked and Bailey was back to being Bailey—but not for long. After the stronger medication was finished Bailey once again struggled to pee. I reached out for Dr. Tung once more to get another prescription, but no dice. Dr. Tung told me that if it was a urinary tract infection it would have been cured by now and Bailey would have to see a specialist and have an ultrasound.

The specialist’s office was located in the Veterinary Emergency Clinic—a 24-hour animal hospital where sad news is dispensed on a regular basis. The specialist, Dr. Mason lacked the warmth and compassion that I had hoped for—everything was just a matter of fact with him.

Dr. Mason examined Bailey before taking him in the back for his ultrasound. “What do you think?” I asked nervously. “Well, dogs his age that have this problem usually have cancer, but let’s see what the ultrasound says.” My eyes filled with tears.

There it was--the enemy staring us in the face. The bullet that had been dodged for 13 years. What were the odds that Dr. Mason was wrong? What would the ultrasound tell us? The two hours that followed were two of the longest hours of my life.

Melinn and I returned to the vet clinic where Bailey was thrilled to see us. To him, it was just another adventure. To Dr. Mason, it was a time to deliver the news. “Bailey’s ultrasound was not normal,” he said. I broke down. There was no possibility of keeping it together. Dr. Mason continued: “We can see a thickening of the bladder wall and spots on his urethra.” I looked over at Melinn to see tears running down her face. “How long does he have?” I asked. By now, Dr. Mason could tell how badly we were taking the news. “Now, what I am going to tell you is extreme. If his urethra becomes blocked, it’s a matter of just a few days. But on the other side of things, he could last three to four months.”

Dr. Mason outlined the two options: Do nothing and let nature run its course or chemotherapy, which would first require I biopsy to properly identify the source of the cancer. I was confused and conflicted. After hearing the word “cancer” not much else made much sense to me. I knew I wanted Bailey to be with my family for as long as possible but at the same time I could not bear to watch him suffer.

To fight or not to fight. We decided to take Bailey home to weigh our options. That night, somewhere in the midst of a million tears I decided that I would arm myself with as much information as possible. I realized that Bailey had no idea that something was wrong—and as long as it stayed that way I decided that the best option was to fight…and fight hard.