I am so sad to say this, but I’ll be taking a bit of break from blogging for an undetermined amount of time.

I don’t mean to dish all of my hardships and feelings onto here, since this is a book blog and not my diary, but I am so worried and concerned that it might be good for me to just put it here.

This is my best friend, my son, and the love of my life, Guillermo. He is 4 years old, 35 lbs of special, and means the entire world to me.

When I came home for my lunch break on Thursday last week, Mo brought me a bloody toy.

I immediately stopped him from bouncing around and checked his mouth, where I found a fairly large lump on his bottom jaw. The lump also has an open wound on the top. (The lump is under his tongue, behind his left fang tooth, on the palette.)

I immediately called my vet and made an appointment for that evening after work, but after one Google search, I decided to leave work immediately and go to the vet with him as a walk in.

Some of you might be thinking I’m a bit of a spazz for giving work the middle finger, but last year I lost my dog, Artemis, at a very young age to sudden kidney failure. It was extremely traumatic for me, as Artemis was chasing around a ball and acting normal one day and literally diagnosed to be dying on the next. (No shit.)

If there was anything I learned from that situation, it is this: Those scary things that only happen to everyone else, or only happen to old dogs, or only happen to {insert thing here}, they can absolutely happen to you.

Artemis was 5 years old when she fought for her life for 8 days in the ER with failing kidneys, until her heart started to fail, and I brought her home to send her off from her favorite spot on the couch. It was the worst moment in my life to date. I still think about her every day and it has not gotten any easier for me.

So, as you can imagine, when I Google’d the lump, the results were filled with horrific scenarios, which I did unfortunately discover are a real possibility for my little boy. (i.e., many kinds of deadly cancers, types of invasive benign tumors, scary details of dogs needing parts of their jaw removed.)

To save you all the details… After a needle biopsy on Thursday, an ER visit for mass amounts of bleeding on Friday, and an entire weekend filled with crying and worrying, I finally got a call from my vet today with the biopsy results.

Inconclusive!

Of-fucking-course!

My vet said while the results “mostly resemble a benign tumor,” they aren’t entirely clear. (I’m not a vet, so I can’t even begin to imagine what this means.) She said since the lump is generally smooth, she is hopeful that it will be non-cancerous, but then she rattled off a number of cancers that it still could be, paired with the possibility of needing part of his jaw removed depending on the invasiveness- IF it is cancer.

The only way to know for sure?

A punch biopsy this Friday.

I feel like we’re all friends here, so I hope you don’t mind if I unload for a second.

First and foremost, I am a bit angry that my vet didn’t start this with scheduling a punch biopsy, since even the ER vet who I saw Friday night told me that a needle biopsy will be inconclusive. (This same ER vet also basically told me all of the horrible things Google told me, so I left there in shambles.)

Of course my mind is thinking the absolute worst, but even the best case scenario isn’t going to be pleasant. It seems like our options are:

• Not cancer: Surgery to remove. Hopefully the jaw remains intact. Teeth may need pulled.
• Cancer: Surgery, might need to remove the bone, and his life expectancy will only be about a year afterwards.

Needless to say, I am sick with fear.

Eating is hard, I’ve been sick all weekend, and I am crying on and off throughout the day. I can’t stop worrying about my poor boy and just praying and hoping that it is not cancer.

Friday cannot come soon enough, as it will still take an additional 4-5 days for the biopsy results. This waiting and worrying might actually be the death of me.

I just can’t stop my mind from spiraling down and going to the worst case scenario. Just when I stop crying and start to focus on something else, BOOM. The thoughts are back and they’re taking over.

Sometimes, my head takes me to the moments and thoughts I had when Artemis got sick.

When I took Guillermo to the emergency vet, I ended up having to sit in the exact same seat that I sat in with Artemis one year ago. I looked across the way and could actually see us standing there together on the day I had a major freak-out in front of the entire waiting room. (Artemis’ eyes were swelled closed and no one would give me any answers as to why.)

This gutted me.

The situations are so oddly similar, and I prayed that I would never have to be back at that ER again, or have such a major issue with a dog so young, and all I can do is pray that Guillermo won’t meet he same fate as Artemis did.

Please keep him in your thoughts.

Please pray for him.

Please send him your vibes.

Whatever you believe in, please work some of it in Mo’s direction, because I am scared shitless, and I feel helpless.

I’ll be taking time just to focus on spending time with him and making him feel loved. I’ll let you guys know more when I know more.

xoxo,

Ande