My Dog Mac

If you are one of those people who has never had a pet or loved an animal, this is probably a posting you can skip. For all the others, especially cancer patients with pets, you will understand.

MacGregor -- or “Mac” as we fondly call him -- is my dog. He is a rescue Westie and was supposed to be unadoptable for several reasons. He was at least 10 years old, wasn’t housebroken, and apparently did not relate well to people – at least that is how the story goes. He had been left in a kennel for six months. His owners had gone to assisted living. Apparently the dog belonged to the husband, who was a banjo player. Mac wasn’t into female owners. Mac had stitches running diagonally across his belly from when he was attacked by an Australian Shepherd. He would not make eye contact. He was not a trusting dog.

I had several colleagues at the veterinary school at Purdue University. They found Mac and his longtime friend -- an 8-year-old Bichon Frise named “Buttons,” who used to belong to the wife. I agreed to “test drive” (dog sit) both dogs during the Christmas break in 2008. Buttons was definitely a lap dog and quite friendly. Mac was a grump. Carl was not too happy about the dog-sitting situation, but he could see that I was determined to care for the dogs and that was that.

First task completed… Both dogs were housebroken in two weeks – even in the freezing Indiana snow. I was a professor at Purdue University at the time. That’s the only reason I would be living in snow.

As time went on, I noticed that Mac began to quietly growl under his breath at Buttons, when Buttons would jump in my lap. Mac would then scoot closer and closer to me on the sofa. He still was not making eye contact or letting anyone touch his ears or belly.

By the time Carl and I went to our Midyear Conference in California in January, I decided that I wanted to adopt both dogs. Carl was still not over losing our Corgie Sophie and said, “No.” So I negotiated for one dog instead of two. He said I tricked him. LOL. “Which one do you want?” Carl asked. “I want the Westie,” I said. He looked surprised. “That ugly, grumpy dog with the stitches and bloody ears?! No one would want him!” “Exactly!” I said. “That is why I want him,” I replied. And that was that.

Buttons went off to a great home in Chicago to live with the father and sister of my friend Judy. He is happy as pie.

When I was diagnosed with leukemia, I was very fatigued. I remember lying on my back on the sofa and not feeling well. When I woke up, Mac had climbed up on the sofa and was lying on me with his belly touching my torso and his head under my chin. Ever since then he followed me everywhere. I could not even go to the bathroom without him waiting outside the door. We were friends for life. And that was that.

Last Monday Carl and I were packing and getting ready for our vacation in the White Mountains. Part of the ritual was dropping Mac off at the vet’s boarding facility Monday late afternoon. The alarm was set for 5 a.m. on Tuesday, so that Carl could make his golf tee time. The fishing poles and gear were ready for some trout catching.

I woke up suddenly at 4 a.m. with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. For some reason, I started to cry. I was worried about Mac. I asked Carl if he would be terribly upset if I did not go, because I had to get my dog. This was not like me. Carl was surprisingly understanding, even though he probably thought it was strange.

I waited for the vet’s door to open, and I asked to take Mac out of boarding. They looked a little surprised at my request. I wanted the vet to take a look at him. The vet felt a lump in his belly. The x-rays showed that Mac had recently swallowed 50 stones (30 in his belly and the rest in his intestines). The vet said he was too old for surgery. The only chance he had was to get rid of the stones. I spent the last three days and nights helping him expel the stones from both ends. We were exhausted.

By Thursday the last one came out. Mac was a tough dog, but the ordeal was too much for his old body. I wrapped him in a towel and rocked him. Mac passed away on Friday with me petting his beautiful head and body. Such a truly loyal and faithful friend. May you rest in peace, you old grumpy sweet boy. I will forever be grateful for all the love and happiness you brought to my life. You will be missed more than you know.

Love & Gratitude,

Your MaMa

One year on ibrutinib

Carl and I recently returned from NIH on the East Coast. The highlight is always being able to have dinner with my cousin Sam. This time we managed to also squeeze in a pancake breakfast. He works for NASA and has decided to retire in a year or two to Arizona. Sam, Carl, and I are very close, so it will be wonderful having more family close by. The three of us took some time to go to the Hungarian Festival for a little R&R. We saw George at the hotel (one of my blood brothers, who started the trial the same day). We missed seeing Matt. :-(

I cannot believe it has been a year since I entered the clinical trial with the experimental drug ibrutinib. My visit to NIH began with donating 17 viles of blood to Count Dracula, the lab technician. The good news is that my white blood count has decreased from 35,000 to a little over 29,000 (approximately 4,000 to 10,000 is normal). This is where I was five months after I was diagnosed. I am moving slowly, but headed in the right direction. I would be thrilled to be normalized.

I was then pumped full of radioactive juice so that my insides could be viewed by the medical team. My lymph nodes have not increased and I have remained the same since last January. This is also good news.

If you recall, last time I had a bone marrow biopsy I was wheeled off in a wheel chair. I could not walk due to the fact that I was stabbed five times with the Lidocaine, because my nerves kept feeling the needle. My bone marrow biopsy went better this time. Thank God for that one. I walked off the operating table on my own. I will not get the results of the bone marrow biopsy for several weeks. As soon as I do, I will post the results.

There are only a few side effects I reported.

1. The first is that the fatigue has returned the past few months. Rats! Sometimes the fatigue is more like complete exhaustion. Yesterday I took a 4.5 hour nap. I am hoping this will ease up. The medical team said they may have to take me off the drug for several months, if this continues. This freaks me out a little. I am keeping a journal for them.

2. The second side effect is my brittle nails. I have always worked with my hands, so I never had the luxury of having girlie–girl nails, so that is not a big thing for me. It is just a little annoying. The doctors suggested I take biotin.

3. The third side effect is sort of a silver lining one. My hair has changed texture. It used to be straight with no body. Now it has curl and body. I can’t wear a bob cut without using a flat iron! Amazing! Apparently, I am not the only one who has this side effect. I am not complaining about this one. LOL.

I have also signed up for another clinical study to help Dr. Richard Childs and Dr. Adrian Wiestner at NIH. This just involves donating my blood, bone marrow, tissue, etc. for further genetic research. This will help me get more scientific information to help me understand my situation.

I just got through reading Dr. Wiestner’s paper on the clinical study that was presented at a conference and found out that two people in our trial have died, but thankfully not from the experimental cancer treatment. Looks like they had problems with infections. I can’t let things like that get me down. I don’t have time to wallow in the mire and waste my time belly-aching.

My family and friends keep me excited about living. My son-in-law Steve is in Africa now and will be bringing home Ian, a new son. He just turned two years old and he is blind. I am excited about meeting him.

My son Rocky just completed another marathon in Portland. That makes two marathons in four weeks. Crazy! My daughter-in-law Elizabeth, who is five months pregnant, walked a total of eight miles to meet him at his milestones. What animals! It puts a smile on my face.