What choice do I have?...

...other than to do nothing! I opted to try chemotherapy. I want to give Ozzie a chance to fight his cancer. With the other option of complete surrender seeming so very grim, I have to pursue some kind of treatment. I cannot just sit back and do nothing (not with a face and a hot lips bandana like the one that he has on in this picture).

Prolonging his life by months to a year or more is worth it to me, especially if his quality of life is maintained, and given that the option of doing nothing yields a mere 3- month life expectancy. Another man in the waiting room at the specialty clinic today was pursuing chemotherapy for his 6 year old collie mix with renal cancer. He said that his happy dog has had an extra 4 months of life, and he believes that every extra day is a gift. I agree.

At some point, I have to sit down and write about my recent thoughts on veterinary medicine. To a large degree, in light of the specialists that we have seen and dealt with as of late, veterinary medicine baffles my mind to the fullest. There must be something similar that veterinarians swear to as I swore to the Hippocratic Oath. The modern oath states, in addition to other things, that "I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug." Those three things have been sorely lacking in this process, with the exception of our primary care veterinarian.

For example, it certainly does not make it easier for me when the ultimate answer from all of these specialists is a cold-hearted allusion to "humane euthanasia". My dog is 9 years old! He runs and jumps, he snuggles and "works out" with me, he is our guard dog patrolling our gates, and he loves his life. I don't understand being a specialist, or being a physician at all, and not ultimately hoping for a cure. Even without the liability that I face as a human physician, and even if I were to work under the auspice that all of my patients would die before the tender age of 20, I would still care. I would care more, and be more warm, more sympathetic and more understanding than what I have been shown by several veterinarians in the past few weeks. This discussion is too long for the timing of this entry because for now I need to tend to my patient...

"But I will preserve the purity of my life and my arts."