Trumped by a geriatric Golden Retriever! Is there no lengths this dog won't go to?

It's Anzac Day - April 25th - and a gorgeous day here in Lennox. I woke early enough to attend a dawn service but in the end opted for snoozing and a casual coffee on the floor next to Murphy. And while clearly this is super un-Australian of me, I can provide a very good reason for my choices.

You see this past week Murphy decided she had had enough of the health focus being on her mum ("and where has all her hair gone anyway - as part of the pack there is an expectation we all have fur!") and on the Sunday afternoon a week and a half ago, decided to have what can only be best described as a doggy stroke. John was sailing and I had been having a lovely afternoon coffee with the gorgeous Gaye when my mobile rang to tell me a neighbour had Murphy 'distressed and unable to walk' in her front yard. I had just arrived home and to be honest was completely relaxed about the call assuming that the neighbour wasn't used to Murphy's wobbly back legs and sooky ways. However when I arrived and discovered the terrible state she was in, I quickly realised this was much more serious than a case of Murphy being tired and looking for a piggy back home and a couple of schmackos.

I hoped to no avail that she would settle down and eventually fall asleep in one of her 8 beds (nope, not kidding) but in fact she continued to pant and drool and refused food so after an initial telephone consult with the after hours vet, we opted to drive her to the clinic. Michael the on call vet was amazing and diagnosed the problem immediately but made it clear Murphy would need hospitalisation for many days and that her prognosis at this stage, very poor. By the time we left her there and took the somber drive home, it was close to midnight. In the space of one afternoon Murphy clearly trumped me in the health stakes. From then until now almost every telephone call, every conversation, every sleepless hour the result of worrying that Murphy might not make it. I have longed to get to a point where cancer and my ability to beat it didn't occupy my thoughts so much but I never wanted the replacement distraction to be concern for Murphy.

Since last Friday there has been a 24 hr vigil to watch over her. Makeshift beds downstairs, a calendar of medication requirements, hand feeding, carrying outside, carrying to the car and carrying to the toilet, coaxing to stand and walk and of course, endless and endless pats and a whole lot of cuddles. Slowly, ever so slowly, i am relieved to report that she has started to improve. Her mobility is increasing and she's eating some food. But there's still a way to go. There have been many times in these past 6 days since coming home from hospital that I've sat and watched her sleeping and thought how much Murphy deserves my every effort to care for her and nurture her back to health. After all, she's been such a faithful and beautiful friend to me and has hung in during my low times. As they say, dogs are miracles with paws.

And so during this time, with all of the distraction of a very sick dog in the house, I've managed to almost complete my radiotherapy! Yes, I have less than a week to go! I want to get excited about nearing the end of this treatment phase but I must admit, the worry of Murph has somewhat dampened my enthusiasm. It's hard to believe I am almost there. Six long weeks of daily nuking of my left breast has resulted in quite bad burning to the skin and a discomfort that's hard to describe. It's not hideously painful, just provides for a general throbbing that never subsides. I'm now at the point of having to apply a dressing to the area following every radiotherapy session. It's ok though because the tubes of gel like cream are a really cool shape and I've gotten pretty good at self application. Well, good is probably a stretch but at least I can go out in public these days with it on. The first time I did it I somehow made my boob look like it had exploded in my bra top and I had gauze and fluff sticking out of several spots of my top including the back of my neck??? Yes I know, I don't know how either??

I know in my last blog I mentioned the characters one meets in a radiotherapy waiting room. Those relationships have continued to be nurtured in our green gowns within the four walls of the cancer centre sterile environment. I have enjoyed the banter and the support of my colleagues especially the compliments and sideways winks from the good old blokes in there.

"The Spanish Dancer must be buggered after trying to tango with you young lady" a particular favourite.

The impact even greater if you can imagine that many of them are sitting around with no pants on. Enough said about that. You never quite know who or what you are going to get every time you turn up for your appointment. A veritable lucky dip of characters and cancer issues. This past week I felt the heavy pangs of empathy when I met Debbie from Casino who is just starting on this part of her journey. She has both breast cancer and a brain tumour. Twice daily sessions for her and many more weeks of treatment to go. Debbie turned 60 this year and had announced to her family that it was 'her year' - time for travel and fun with less work. Two weeks later she discovered her cancer. You learn a lot about life as you sit in this room. Debbie and i moved our conversation to pixie hairstyles and laughed at the 'colour' options for our new hair and despite her sad soulful brown eyes, i detected a spunk in her that i truly hope will see her through. It also once again reminded me that regardless of the fact I am a fellow radiotherapy client, I have much cause to be extremely grateful.

My life is gradually returning to normal. I'm back at several gyms and absolutely loving every class. The energy and support network in those sweaty rooms has carried me so much throughout my cancer journey. Big love to my fitness friends.
Additionally i have had the pleasure of working on a discrete project which has given me cause to speak with many of my work colleagues recently....so good to hear their voices and share in their collective brains trust during consultations. I am lucky to be surrounded by such smart, capable women and I've missed them terribly.
And finally I am moving to a stage of recovery where I can start to make plans outside of medical appointments and schedules......soon, very soon, trips away and holidays and nights out and fun stuff within my reach.

So as I sit here watching the afternoon sunset, with Murphy snoozing beside me, I formally enter the final 3 hits of radiotherapy which will run over the next 5 days given a weekend in between. I feel more and more confident of Murph's return to good health and I think the Langill girls will have cause for many celebrations in the coming weeks.

At the close of this month it will be a half a year of cancer diagnosis and all that it holds in terms of medical intervention and recovery for me. To my fellow cancer colleagues now celebrating years of a cancer free life, I know I am only in recovery infancy. But I have to say I also feel like I've lived a long time with this demon now and I am eager to draw it to a close.

I can still hear the stadium crowd chanting my name and encouraging me to run harder.....and I can see third base is close. Only I've now realised, right at my heel is my gorgeous pal running along side me, a heartbeat at my feet and a waggly bottom and squinty eyes when the umpire finally yells SAFE on third.......for both of us.

I love you and thank you again for your support. K and M xxx