Biding Time

 As I mentioned earlier this week, Tiny Dog has begun heart failure. I wrote about it only briefly, because I am still processing what that means. And because I don't truly know what it means. 

Research tells me that there are various stages of heart failure, and that Tiny is at Stage C. The next and final stage will be Stage D/advanced heart failure, when she no longer responds well to treatment. The time frame from Stage C to D, though, is quite an unknown; one article I found indicated a median time of 163 days (range, 10–743 days). So that could be between, oh, tomorrow and two years from now. The same article indicates that time in advanced (post-Stage-C) heart failure to death also varies similarly, with median survival time after the diagnosis of advanced heart failure of 281 days (range, 3–885 days). That's a whole lotta range there, I must say.

I dislike unknown periods of time. 

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I am remembering Ottoman-shaped Dog's last weeks in these times. His bladder cancer was an unknown, with the meds being palliative, not curative. We waited, and watched, and waited, and it was an agony not to know when it would be his time. And then one day it was clear it was his time to Go, and it was a heartbreaking sadness comingled with a most bittersweet relief that the waiting for that moment was over.

And here we are, with Tiny Dog. Is it Now? No, not yet. But when? Soon? We do not know. 

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I fare better waiting, when I know how long the Wait will be. I do not do well when time is Unknown. What can I do, though, besides learn how to Wait Better? 

Tiny Dog spends a fair amount of time on my lap or nearby these days, and I do whatever I can to make her comfortable. Sometimes she trembles in that way that so many small dogs do -- but which she never did before -- and I worry that she is in pain. But then she perks up again. And so we continue to go about our lives, trying to enjoy the small moments with the small dog. 

I cannot think about the Future right now: where will I go when it is safe to travel? What will I do when being in public is not such a risk? I have no idea, because when I try to think about it, all I can think of is Tiny Dog: will her needs be met? Will she be stable on her meds? Can she do without me for a few days? I don't know. I have no idea what the Future holds. 

Bless you, Tiny Dog. We will do what we can. I hope you enjoy the time you have, and that I will be able to be with you when you are at the end of your road.