Last Saturday, I got the call from the vet. "Simon has at least one mast cell tumour that has to be removed. We'll schedule him for surgery on Monday."
For such a small word, it certainly can send you reeling. When you hear the C word, it's all you can do to focus, to listen, to process. This tiny word has the power to suck all the wind out of you, to drain all happiness.
I put down the phone and told my husband the news. I googled "mast cell tumour dog." I learned more than I wanted to know. Then, I curled up on the couch with Simon and cried - quietly enough not to alert my husband. Or so I thought. But, he found us and he cried too.
It all started the end of May, when Simon began vomiting every few days. I was scared. After all, Simon is an older dog. The vet diagnosed an ulcer and gave him meds to allow it to heal. All was well for a few weeks and then it started up again. I was scared again. The vet mentioned that mast cell tumours can cause ulcers. Now, I was terrified. The vet did thin needle aspirations of Simon's lumps and bumps. Simon has had a long history of lipomas, which are harmless fatty growths, so I hoped the results would come back benign as usual. No such luck.
Simon is now recuperating from the removal of two mast cell tumours and a growth on his eyelid. The vet was optimistic afterward, but I still asked that the tumours be sent out for grading. I haven't heard back yet. So, I have been on pins and needles all week, trying to keep my active boy calm so he can heal and waiting for the report. I just want this to all go away.
So, if you have any good vibes to spare, please send them to Simon.