Good Days, Not Such Good Days

We are two weeks post first chemo treatment.  The doc said to expect some GI symptoms in the first 48-72 hours post treatment.  My Roscoe did seem to have a little loss of appetite, and maybe a BM that seemed a little loose, but he didn’t vomit and didn’t lose his appetite for food or water.

If anything, he just didn’t have the energy or unction that he normally has … which lasted maybe 3-4 days.  A couple of days this week, he kind of concerned me because he would only walk a short distance before laying down and taking a break.  Then again, it concerns me every time he licks at a limb or joint.

It’s difficult to trust the process, never having been through it before.  Like the post title, though, he seems to be having really good days, with some not-so great-days thrown in.  I don’t mean to be preachy, but my roots and beliefs encourage me to recall a few verses in the Bible.  Specifically for this journey, Mark 5:1, “They came to the other side of the sea, into the country of the Gerasenes.”

It might seem odd that this line carries so much weight; without the context the last lines of the previous chapter.  Jesus said, “Let’s go to the other side of the lake.”  It is the recollection of the disciples freaking out when a storm came out of nowhere while they were crossing (a presumably large) lake.  The disciples woke Him up and remarked, “Teacher, do You not care that we are about to perish?!”

Jesus (I imagine He was annoyed) replied to the effect of, “What is wrong with you guys?  I said we’re going to the other side.  What gives?”  Then he told the storm to chill out and it chilled out.

I know not everyone reading this subscribes to a faith, let alone to the Christian faith, but even for those who don’t, there is something, some hope to take away from these few lines.

The seas are stormy in our lives right now.  I really admire this dog, and some days the waves seem to kind of beat down on us.  Chaos, doubt, confusion.  They are each very readily met with the loving lapping of a canine tongue.  It’s as if, when my concern seems to take control of my day because Roscoe didn’t walk as far today as he did yesterday, those doubts and frustrations are met with the slobber from a dog’s tongue on my face (and entire head, to be clear), saying, “Enjoy now.  Have faith.  I will never leave your side.  Ever.”  Things like this make life, and even its challenges, a little more bearable. Roscoe makes life and its challenges more bearable.  Maybe that’s why I’m scared.

On a more humorous note, I snapped this shot of Roscoe after he did what he had to do to make his toy more like him.  What a character.  I really love this guy.

I can’t say there are good days and bad days, because there really aren’t any bad days.  Some days are clearly belter than others, but how can a life be bad, when it has a dog in it?  Humans are taught to plan ahead, to anticipate tomorrow.  Dogs don’t do that…. at least not that I can discern.  Dogs can wake the same way they spend their days, the same way they sleep, living in the moment.  I like taking a break from being human every now and then, and try to live that day in the moment, like Roscoe…..