Jan 13

 Last couple of days have not been good. The nausea is definitely back. Sticking with me throughout the day, hard to shift, draining me of all motivation and capability to do shit. I am sleeping a lot to escape the misery and also because I am permanently exhausted.

Not good.

Today, feeling ill yet again, just lying there about to watch some TV, a mini panic attack came over me, a sudden shift in anxiety about being ill, instant odd feeling in my stomach, dizzy head, sweat prickle, panic. Ok. Ok. Calm. Calmmm. I know we feel shit. I know it's never ending. But calm. It's ok.

Fortunately it moved on pretty quickly. But left me feeling even more precariously fragile. My mentals have had enough of constant misery it would seem.

Today I have spent all day trying to deal with it. Sleeping for a long period. At the end of the afternoon Hazel cried for help. I felt terrible. But responded. Tears. Hazel had got news back from the specialist. The prognosis was grim. About as bad as it gets.

Sigh. That horrible inevitable moment is here. What to do. No way out. The radiologist identified a tumour, high up in the shoulder. The treatment would be a severe amputation of the shoulder, everything out, a quarter of the chest. And even then. Dubious. The likelihood would be a return of the tumour in a year. And. Her other leg did not look in a fit state to carry all that weight from a missing leg.

The information was thorough. Complete. No advice one way or another was given. But. The message was clear. No hope.

Hazel was in bits. Of course. My own stomach went down. Twisted. Tears. Sad. A struggle. I ignored all my own shit and just focused on Hazel. Very careful to be as supportive as possible. No pushes. No stupidly idiot comments about positivity. Just. Be ever so mindful of what you are saying. I let her talk. I said I was sorry. It was brutal. I did not voice an opinion. Or anything. Just lamented with her. The most awful thing. Eventually she asked what would I do. So hard. I know how hard this is. How incredibly shit. Unfair. Cruel. I didn't say any of but, that it was very hard. Do you know what you would do she said ? Yes. She cried some more. The information was clear. Even if she had invasive surgery. Even if it went perfectly well. Even if by some miracle the cancer didn't return. They didn't think her remaining leg would be able to carry her for long. You would end up with lots of pain and trauma for no good. And the likelihood would be that it would be on multiple fronts, the cancer would not be removed. Given all that. There is no way out. Putting Poppy through invasive procedures and further scans seems like a bad decision.

There are no good decisions here.

All outcomes are horrible.

I said nothing of the inevitabilities. When pressed I said that even under the best of circumstances, they don't think she will cope. And that I think you have to let her go.

More tears. She is so young.

We hugged for a long time.

It is horrible.

I know this dance far too well.

Later she said that she was still Poppy. She was still there. Yes. I said. And shook my head. Just like Athena Hazel said. Yes. I said. Tears. Dogs will keep on going. It is the worst thing to make that decision. They are the most positive happy creatures who just want to stay with you and be happy. They wear their heart on a sleeve.

Finally.

My advice. Because there is nothing to be done here. Nothing I can say that makes it better. Nothing that takes the pain away, or alters the path of a cruel universe. I am powerless. But my advice.

Don't make a decision now.

Let it sit. For 24 hours. Or however long. Let the shock do its thing.

Things are always in a better place when you give time to make a decision. Not that it makes the outcome in any way better. But you are going to make a better decision. More sure. More thought. Time to let some of the shock wear off. Not that it wont be a huge shock. Or horrible. But there is always wisdom in letting something sit a while.

And then.

It was her choice. Whatever she chose I would support. There isn't an easy answer. I think she has to let her go. But whatever she chose I would help her.

If she needed money, it was there. If she wanted anything at all that I could do, I would provide it. The "easy" bits were not a problem.

I then asked if her boyfriend was working today. Yes. And that perhaps he needed to bunk off the day as an emergency and she needed to talk to him. Spend time with him. That she should as her next move go talk to him. Play a game. Something. Just talk to him. 

So she did all of that.

It's the best I could do. It is pathetically small. I cannot turn back the tides of time or the universe as much as I really want to.

I left her with her boyfriend. I said I wasn't abandoning her, just giving her and her boyfriend space. If she needed me I was there. If she wanted me to sit with her I was there. She understood. Held my hand. Said it was ok.

Ho hum.

Very sad.

Life can be cruel.

Poor Poppy.