Protocol Week 1

Dave's treatment this week was 400IU of L-Asparaginase, or Elspar. The side effects are supposed to be mild, and we're watching him for any allergic reaction signs (pawing at his face, swelling).

He also came home with:
Clavamox 250 mg antibiotic 2x a day
Cosopt eye drops 3x a day (these were expensive!!)
Neopolydex eye drops 4x a day
Prednisone 50mg 1/2 tablet once a day (beginning on Saturday)
Vitamin A 10000 IU, 1 once a day (for healing, only a week's worth)

A little more than 24 hours after treatment, no signs of an allergic reaction. He slept soundly as soon as we got home last night, and we didn't try to feed him. He ate a half a portion of food, which was all I gave him, this morning, and coughed some of it up as he was eating. He finished it, drank a good amount of water but didn't have a morning BM. He took his meds like a champ, with a little peanut butter.

He took his Clavamox without issue. He did all of his "business" outside without any problems this afternoon. My mother in law checked on him around 2 today, and said he greeted her at the door. He was excited, chased a couple birds outside, and looked out the window as she left - all normal. He greeted Mike when he got home at 4:30 with his toy chicken in his mouth, and gave him kisses. He greeted me as well. He's been sleeping, but got out of bed when we asked if he wanted to eat. We tried to feed him around 7:15 tonight, and he didn't eat. We left his bowl out, so hopefully he'll go back to it.

I'm going to measure out his water tomorrow so we can begin to monitor how much he's drinking. If the increased drinking and decreased eating continue, I'm going to give the vet a call to ensure that we're on the right track.

UPDATE: About a half hour later, Dave ate his food, albeit slower than usual. Later in the night, he jumped up on the couch - before we could get to him to assist him in getting up - and snored the entire time. It's a small sign of hopefulness, but even his sleeping noises are back to normal. I'm hoping for more days like this...

TMI

Hi. I'm Abbie, and I am the "mom" to an awesome 8 1/2 year old Boston Terrier named Dave. My husband and I rescued him seven years ago, and we've all had a wonderful life together. Two weeks ago, Mike turned the big 3-0. I had some plans for a secret party in the making, and went all out in the gift buying. A little more than a week before Mike's birthday, we noticed that Dave's lymph nodes appeared to be swollen. I was just getting over a third sinus infection/bronchitis combo for the winter season, so I assumed that he had caught a bug from me. He was not acting sick, so we decided to monitor it.

Three days before the birthday, I took Dave to the vet, and she told me that he probably had lymphoma. I had done some internet searches on "swollen dog lymph nodes," so it didn't come as a complete shock. But the reality of the vet saying it floored me. They aspirated four lymph nodes - the ones in the neck and in the back of his hind legs. Two days later, my hubby got the worst birthday present ever, a cancer dog. However, Dave was completely fine and was acting just like he would on any other day.

We got an appointment for a consultation at the University of Pennsylvania's oncology department, but had to wait ten long days. I did more research online, trying to stick to veterinary teaching hospitals for the most reputable information. What I found was that he had a year to 18 month prognosis with chemo, and a four to six week prognosis without. Not encouraging.

The weekend before his appointment, Dave started to show symptoms; he was lethargic, vomited a few times, and was showing possible signs of being in pain. He was shivering, staring at us blankly and couldn't get comfortable. The morning of his appointment, Tuesday the 29th, he laid in his bed while we went about our business, which was highly unusual. As soon as he heard his harness and leash, he was up and jumping on me, ready to go out.

We got him to Penn, and he proceeded to try to bite a dog, and tried to jump off Mike's lap repeatedly. When we went back to the exam room, he tried to give kisses to the vet and vet students, and sniffed around the room, checking everything out.

The good news was that he qualified for a trial that they are running! The trial creates a vaccine out of his own cancer cells. It's used when he (hopefully) goes into remission so his body will fight the cancer if it comes back. According to the research, it almost always does, stronger.

The bad news was that we had to leave him overnight, and he had to have several tests to be 'staged.' On Tuesday, he had a chest x-ray, a stomach ultrasound, a bone marrow aspiration and bloodwork to ensure that he qualified for the trial - his blast cells had to be lower than 5% in his blood and 30% in his bone marrow. Assuming that they were, he would have surgery to remove a lymph node for the vaccine and then would have his first round of chemo. His numbers were good for the trial - great bloodwork and 23% in his bone marrow. The worse news was that the cancer was throughout his lymphatic system, and that the bone marrow involvement and symptoms that he was showing put him into the worst possible stage - Vb. Five b is not where we wanted to be, especially since he was asymptomatic five days prior.

However, the vet said that he was still a candidate for treatment, and that the stage doesn't necessarily make a difference in the way dogs respond to treatment. A lot of what I read doesn't necessarily support that, but based on his level of alertness and full appetite, we couldn't not give it a shot. The decision was difficult, because his well being and quality of life is our main priority. Did it make sense to prolong the inevitable? To us, if he has a good QOL, and can last another year, possibly longer with the vaccine trial, it's worth it.


We picked him up tonight from Penn and he was great! The vet walked him out to us, and he looked good, came right to us, jumped up and gave us kisses. He is exhausted after all the tests and today's events, and is quietly sleeping in his bed. He made a loud sigh when he finally laid down, as if to say (in my mind) finally, I'm in my own bed.

We're cautiously optimistic for now, but know we have a very long road ahead.