When Cancer Comes For Those You Love
By Sarah Kilch Gaffney
Scrape.
Scrape.
Scrape.
I cringed as I listened to the nails on Gabbie’s back left foot drag along the pavement with every step. A couple of weeks ago, it was every other step. A few weeks before, it had been every seventh or eighth. Before that, it was winter, when snow banks kept us off the shoulderless road and the weakening of her limb was still imperceptible.
As Gabbie’s leg worsened, I did some research, then took her to the vet. After an examination, the vet told me it was extremely likely that Gabbie had a spinal tumor. As he began explaining how the musculature in her left leg had already atrophied, how she would get progressively worse, and how to watch for signs of pain in someone unable to communicate such things in words, I had to turn away. We agreed to not go forward with her vaccinations, and that I would call if I had questions or she seemed like she was suffering. I probably seemed disinterested, like I didn’t care that my dog was dying, but I needed to pay for the exam and I needed to leave and I needed to do it quickly.
I knew so much more about what was to come than he could have imagined.
My daughter, who was home sick from school that day, had accompanied us to the vet’s office. As…
