Not prepared for anything

A couple of weeks ago, Rocky started having some discomfort -- again with his neck. It was symptomatic of a sprained neck; he could only eat and drink when his food bowls were elevated. We didn't think much of it.

It got progressively more worrying, however, when the swelling didn't subside. Last week, we brought him to the vet's. He collapsed and his tongue turned blue. The vet said it was his poor heart condition, coupled with the stress of being in the vet's clinic -- which by now he's come to abhor.

It isn't a sprain this time, because the position of the swelling was different. The prognosis then was that it was one of three things: (a) a foreign object (e.g. bone) stuck in his throat; (b) an infection of the salivary gland or lymph node; (c) another tumour (primary or secondary).

He was given some anti-biotics and anti-inflammatories, and we made an appointment for a follow-up.

At home, we talked about what might happen, and we agreed that we were not going to put him through another operation.

***

Tonight we went back in; the lump hasn't subsided. He's been having trouble eating, and he's been waking up in the middle of the night, screeching from the pain in his throat.

"I want to go in there, and take it out," the vet said. "That seems to be the only option."

I bit my lip. "I don't know if he's going to make it through another GA," I said simply. "Is there any way we can just manage the pain?"

She shook her head. "He's lost a lot of weight, and if, as you say, he's not eating, then the only other option would be just letting him waste away."

I blinked back tears, and as I looked in her eyes, I knew what she was thinking too. That's not an option.

***

Tomorrow, Rocky goes under the knife again. The decision was made so quickly. I'm still in shock.

***

"From hereon out, you're going to have to be prepared for the worst," she said.

I nodded.

***

I'll never be prepared for the worst.