watching horror movies since 1974

Biscuit started chemo on April 27. The first week went very well; he had one bout of vomiting, but maintained a normal appetite and activity level. We’ve been told that he won’t lose any fur, but may lose his whiskers.

By the time he second treatment came around, D was in Belgium so I took Biscuit to the vet on my own. It was a new drug this time, cytoxan, and after doing some reading about it, I was a bit concerned about its potential side effects. Biscuit came home in the late afternoon, having done very well with the drug at the vet.

Actually, ocean.

D left for Brussels last Sunday, after a whirlwind couple of days of cleaning, shopping and packing. Until Biscuit’s official diagnosis came in, and we got his chemo rolling, D’s trip was almost an afterthought in our lives. Well, less so for him, naturally.
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During the past two weeks, the question I’ve heard most often (besides queries about Biscuit, of course) is “how are you coping?”

The answer is one simple word: candy.
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More of D’s words.
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D started this as a simple email, but it grew into a journal of sorts. Though some of you have read this already, I thought I’d share it here. I hadn’t intended to – I didn’t want to write about this here at all – but D has summarized the details of our last week so very well, and likewise has captured the fragility and strength we’ve both found in these intense days such that I felt compelled to share it here.

There’s more, much more, to come as we face the next steps of this journey.
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