Analogies

So it all began nearly a year and a half ago when I was observed sometimes to squat, rather than perform my customary balletic leg cocking routine.  Gail wondered why I was peeing like a girl dog. 

Then there was the occasional puddle appearing on the carpet, and Gail started thinking I was reverting to my puppyhood.

A trip to the vet in July 2020, and then another two months later. Blood and urine tests and an ultrasound scan, and afterwards, between the tears, Gail declares I have a ticking time bomb inside my bladder.  

A new routine of tablets wrapped in yummy cheese commences, and over winter I'm almost as good as new, although what formerly came out gushing like a Highland burn in spate has dwindled to a slow and time consuming trickle.

I'm still full of bounce, enjoying my food, my walks, my cuddles.  

Gail is now thinking the time bomb clock might be running slow. But then peeing becomes yet more difficult, accidents are happening again in the house and more tablets are added to the daily regime. 

My bladder action is now likened to a tap with a worn washer. One can still turn it on and off, but between times it drips a little.

Gail searches the internet for "male dog incontinence products" and the belly band is purchased for night time wear. I think of it as my Championship Belt. 

Peeing and now also pooping increasingly demand acts worthy of a contortionist.

But in all other respects, I'm still going strong.

Gail says I have reached the Cristiano Ronaldo phase of my career*. An analogy which I think suits me rather well.

*Gail says: the reference to Mr Ronaldo in no way is meant to imply that the ageing but still super-fit (and, er, ever so slightly vain) footballer recently re-hired by Manchester United has incontinence problems, rather to draw attention to the fact that dear Bertie retains an amazing level of physical stamina given his advancing years!

One year on

 Gail here.

It's now been a year since Bertie was diagnosed with a malignant tumour (transitional cell carcinoma or TCC) near the neck of his bladder, and I was told that such tumours tend to be aggressive and treatment options limited. I won't pretend the past twelve months have been easy. There have been many ups and downs. 

Bertie still has his good moments, as captured on video last Saturday during a sunny and idyllic walk along the banks of the beautiful river Dee.

https://youtu.be/44OT1itLq7Y

But then there are the times at home when he stands bewildered, looking uncomfortable. 

I am trying to come to terms with the fact that the last year has in effect been a 'bonus year', and be grateful for that. 

"He eez doing amazing"

Gosh our humans sometimes get all worked up about not very much, don't they?

So OK, I'll concede I might have been acting a bit strangely earlier this week, although I would dispute Gail's claims that I was "totally out of it" and "staggering around like a drunken zombie".

Anyway, despite the fact that by yesterday I was feeling a whole lot livelier and no longer nauseous, Gail took me to visit my nice Spanish vet Mar. (Well she's nice when she's not sticking things up my bum.)

After examining me carefully - weight, temperature, heart, abdomen, eyes, the rear end business etc. - and reviewing my urine analysis results and her notes on how my condition has evolved since the bladder tumour (TCC) diagnosis last September, Mar pronounced the following verdict:

"He eez doing AMAZING!"

So to all my dear friends who expressed concern after reading Gail's post yesterday, I just want to say Thank You and Panic Over.

Peak crocus

 

So I was merrily racing around in the park yesterday afternoon, full of the joys of spring, when Gail suggested I pause for a moment and tell you about the results of my recent blood test, just in case you were wondering.

Now I don't like to be one of those dogs who goes on about his health problems all the time. Suffice to say my urea levels are a bit elevated, but the creatinine level is just fine. What does this mean? Well it seems that my kidney function is slightly compromised, so things aren't perfect. But the vet thinks the Previcox tablets are doing much more good than harm, as six months after my bladder cancer (TCC) diagnosis I'm still eating well, feeling comfortable and enjoying my walks. So no changes in my treatment are recommended. 

Excellent.

Back to bouncing through the crocuses.

Happy Nature Friday! 

Do hop across to the LLB Gang to see their post today and links to all the other Nature Friday posts.