Call me unemotional... it's what I am.
But I have never cried for joy until....
Now.
I'm sitting here typing with tears rolling down my cheeks trying to find some way to thank God for what He has done.
This past week has been the longest, and one of the hardest weeks of my life. If you've been reading my blog for even a month or two, you'll recall that about a month ago was our dog's - Winston - birthday. Just turned four years old. I can't even express how much I love that dog.
Call me obsessed.... it's what I am.
Anyway, on June 21st, a little over two weeks ago, tho it feels like two months ago, we took Winston in to be groomed. Winston had been acting kind of strange the past two months or so. He had become very quiet rather than being his rambunctious self, and he was barely eating, which was unbelievably strange for him. He has been obsessed with food pretty much ever since we got him. But even though he hadn't been eating, he looked fat.
Or, rather, he looked fat.
But he wasn't. We got him back from the groomer, and found that his whole back was completely emaciated. Nothing but bones. Yet his stomach was huge - it was bloated.
We took him to the vet that Friday, being so completely freaked out about his health. They drained two pounds of fluid off of him. Two. Whole. Pounds. Kind of freaked us out, but it explained for the bloat. We hoped he would get better.
Took him back in on Monday. And what happened? They drained two and a half more pounds of fluid off of him. The vet told suggested to us that we take him up to an emergency animal hospital... two hours away from here. I was freaking out. I knew this was big time. Not good. I cried a lot that day. And I never cry. I even went somewhere without nearly a scrap of makeup on, and that tells you something right there. We drove all the way up to this emergency hospital. They took Winston back. We saw a vet soon after we got there, who told us the possibilities of what Winston had. One of them being cancer, which appeared likely, and of course unfortunately something that couldn't be fixed. The vet told us how much the testing would cost, and it blew us away. The cost was unbelievable. My mom called my dad to ask what he wanted to do. He said no. We went back home... a long two hour drive back home.
On Tuesday of last week, my mom called our local vet to see if there was anything else we could do. She said there wasn't, since we didn't have any kind of a diagnosis. I cried more that day. Lots more.
Oh, and I must put in a side note to explain why this was so intense for us. Me and my brother are about to go to a two week long worldview summer camp in a few days, and we were afraid Winston would either have to be put down beforehand, which would lessen our experience, or that Winston would die while we were gone, again making it impossible to get anything out of camp. That just made it all the harder to handle.
Anyway, our local vet told my mom pretty much the only thing we could do is put him down. But that would be without knowing if we could have helped him or not. My mom called my dad once again, aannddd my dad changed his mind. We took Winston back up to the emergency hospital on Tuesday. Four hour round trip two days in a row will wear you out.
They did the last test on Winston on Thursday, and we picked him up Friday. From Friday on, it's been the longest four days ever. Winston, on Friday night, was completely out. He looked really bad, really sick, really close to dieing. I spent the night with my cousin Friday night, only to get a call from my mom on Saturday at 8 in the morning telling me to come home as quickly as I could. The insinuation being Winston was about to die. I threw all my stuff in a bag, didn't change, didn't put my contacts in, nothin. Got home, and Winston seemed okay, and I was wondering exactly what the rush was. About an hour later my dad called me back. Winston had almost stopped breathing. My dad was sure he wouldn't live until noon. And yet, he lived on. Lived through that whole day. Even ate a little bit.
{winston on the way back from the emergency hospital}
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were just long days. Long days of uncertainty. My dad was positive Winston had cancer, because he had watched his mom die of cancer, and Winston had all the same symptoms. I woke up several mornings feeling sick inside.
I've spent a good amount of time crying this past week. I've spent a lot more time praying and trusting God. I've even been frustrated with God. But nonetheless I've tried to trust Him with everything in me.
And maybe you're thinking right now I'm too obsessed with my dog. But let me tell you, he's like a child to me. And the fact that he is only four years old just made it seem so wrong.
I've cried. I've prayed. I've trusted. I've wrestled with reality. I've written in my journal. I've read my Bible to find the only source of comfort that I have.
The vet up at the emergency hospital called yesterday, telling us the results from the biopsy would be back today. And I was expecting the worse - some kind of cancer. I prayed all day yesterday, all day today. Praying that all of us would have the strength to take whatever God's will was. Neither of our dogs have ever just been "the dog" that sits around the house and exists. They're both absolutely bound into our lives, and they're like children to all of us. Losing either of them would be an extreme loss for our whole family. I knew we'd all need strength and peace from God to take the hardest news, and what seemed the most probable news.
The vet called about an hour ago. My heart rate hit the ceiling. My mom talked with her for a long time. I was afraid for the worst since they were talking so long. What was happening? Then I heard my mom talking with my brother. She was laughing.
Wait.
She was laughing?
Surely she wouldn't be laughing or at all happy if Winston weren't okay.
My mom came back to my room. I was still nervous.
My mom said they found no traces of cancer, no reason to believe he had cancer.
What he had was treatable.
As soon as my mom left I shut my door and tears started streaming down my face. I couldn't believe it. Winston is going to be okay. I'm still so shocked. I honestly thought it was God's will that Winston would die within the next month. But it sounds like he'll be with us several more years. And I cannot thank God enough for that. I can't believe it. I feel like I'm in some joyful dream.
I seriously hope I don't wake up.
{sorry for a super long, super melodramatic post. I felt the need of getting all these emotions out somewhere. I promise my next post won't be nearly so melodramatic}
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