“So If you have not read in my previous blog, my West Highland White Terrier Princess has Lymphoma. We know now that it is stage 4a and that it is B-cell, which is jargon that you can look up on your own time. These lymph nodes in my dog’s neck were gagging her and making her drool. They are now less swollen so I guess the chemo is working. Yay!!!

So what does all of this mean for me? Well I am super glad that my little Princess is feeling better, but the concoction of medications are now the part I have to live with.

First I want to point out that I am the laziest form of germaphobe. So if there is a problem I am going to be scrubbing everything down with bleach, but until said problem happens, its doesn’t need to be scrubbed down. My house is clean, it just isn’t spotless enough for my germaphobic narrative.

Okay so now you know the situation and my neurosis. Let me introduce you to the fucking problem. The first dose of chemo they said, “Now if she has accidents you will need to wear gloves and you are going to want to wash it with a mixture of bleach and water at *^&%& ratio” I am going to be honest I didn’t get the ratio because I was panicking….is it too late to just put the dog down? *kidding! I’m kidding!!!! (Becki translation “this fucking shit is toxic you will need complete hazmat suit and lighter fluid mixed with bleach to have any luck at all of cleaning it.”) Also they gave her prednisone that is helping her get some relief….but also making her drink lots of water and therefore what goes in must come out. Okay week one goes well. One small pee accident and I cleaned it up like the grown person that I am…

Week 2: Here we are and our second week we go in and they can’t give her the original chemo meds because she has some diarrhea and That type of chemo can cause diarrhea. “So now we are going to send you home with these chemo pills to give to your dog, but you have to wear gloves when handling this medicine.” Wait! What? I’m not sure you should trust me with this stuff if you need gloves and all. Is this like a little nuclear bomb in a capsule? Why do I have to give it to her? I’m not sure I’m qualified. Seriously hazmat suits should be on my grocery list. Or wherever they sell those, Target maybe?

“The side effects include pissing or trouble pissing.” they didn’t say that I just paraphrased for you. She is on the prednisone which may be the culprit for the diarrhea and the need to urinate and now this pissing chemo….oh and the pee is toxic and you need to be careful because you should wear gloves and wash it with bleach.

***19***$#@****&7****^%$ { this is curse words that haven’t been invented yet but my mind is thinking them because I am smart and inventive and freaking the fuck out}

So needless to say I am a neurotic mess that walks her dog a little too much and then when I was just in the shower like five minutes ago….. she pissed a fucking lake of toxic urine on my hallway floor. I see my poor kitty on the wrong end of the lake and I am suddenly concerned for his safety. Also I have never seen the “Swamp Monster” movie or was it “Swamp Thing”? Or was there two? But needless to say I fear that my kitty is going to end up being the “Toxic Urine Lake Monster” and what happens now? I don’t have the proper training for “Toxic Kitty” I didn’t see those movies. If you saw them, how do I reverse the toxins? Am I going to wake up and have a twenty-foot kitty with three eyes and the ability to read my thoughts? (because cats can do that you know)

I think fast and I grab a roll of paper towels and gloves (they seem so impotent for what I am dealing with now, seriously does Amazon sell hazmat suits? Where can I get one of these fucking things?) and I rush to pick up the hazardous waste off my hallway floor before it claims my sweet kitty that I call “Boo Boo kitty and also Nunu, because he is both the love of my life and naughty.” What can I say I like the bad boys!?!? I put paper towels on the mess so that my precious kitten can cross the “Toxic Urine Lake” and I put on my futile gloves and I clean up the mess. Then I douse the area with my bleach concoction and wash thoroughly. I take the hazardous waste and get rid of it and wash my hands.

Now I am just hoping that I caught the mess before it has any effect on Boo boo kitty. He’s being naughty but that’s normal. If I feel a Hundred Pound Cat jump at my feet while I’m sleeping tonight, I will know the sorrowful truth.

…..But otherwise things are going good! How about you?” I respond to the terrified clerk at the grocery store as she refuses to touch the twenty-dollar bill that I am trying to hand over to her.

Moral of my story: I am completely incapable of handling this like a mature adult.

Until next time 🙂

 

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