One-Two Punch

The Cambridge dictionary defines a “one-two” punch as two unpleasant things that happen together.

That pretty accurately describes my week.  After 13 years of love, devotion, lots of tail wags and shoes delivered to all who entered our house, our little baby Isis’ health declined very rapidly and she passed last Saturday.  As I still repeat every day, “the best little girl in world.”  The house is so very empty without her.  All those moments of companionship.  Her greeting every morning of bringing me my slippers and sitting on the couch curled up next to me as I had my cup of coffee.  She loved to run along the fence line with her boyfriend Buddy, the neighbor dog.  A daily routine began with “you want to get the mail?” she would jump up and we both went out – she unleashed and always well behaved. She followed me downstairs for our nightly TV break, where once again we would share the couch. Isis was also a regular with my Zoom Tai Chi class, sitting on the couch in back of me.  I could go on and on listing the precious moments we enjoyed together, now taken from me.  When I was recovering from chemo treatments she was always by my side, keeping watch over me.

Which brings me to the second punch.  The oral daily drug I have been on for the past two months is not working.  It was really good at giving me a rash and pimples like a teenager, but didn’t touch the cancer.  So, our new plan is weekly chemotherapy treatments of taxol, a drug that was administered in combination with another when I first started treatment.  This dosage will be lower but given on a weekly basis for eight weeks.  Then we do a scan and dependent on the results add another drug or simply continue with four more treatments. This creates quite a shift in my life, literally revolving around treatment.  It sure puts cancer at the forefront, a place I have not allowed it to be in a long time.  For almost eight years I have balanced treatment and things that bring me joy – time in nature: the woods and water, time with family, kayaking, traveling, art projects, and baby cuddling at the NICU. Creating that balance will be a little tougher this time around, but watch me try!

I’ve been thinking about grief lately, ya wonder why?!  Grieving the life of my wonderful puppy dog, but also grieving the routine of what was.  The beauty and wonder of the everyday experiences with her.  Something that I can’t get back, but it makes the memory that much more sweet, more precious. 

She left me with one last gift which makes me tear up every time I think about it.  I took a nap the afternoon after she passed away, as I had cried too much and slept very little the night before. As I was napping, I was awakened by her bark, previously a normal occurrence. I then realized that she was no longer with us here on earth. I believe this was her way of saying:

“mom, get up I’m okay.  You will be too.” 

And as I grieve what was and the changes to come, I remember that little bark from my angel, I will be okay!