Jazz's last day

Jazz enjoyed Christmas Day, but today he simply didn't want to / couldn't get up - ironically it's the CDRM that finally seems to have got to him.

We already had an appointment booked with Fiona for his next treatment today, but decided that this should be his final visit instead. 

He went very peacefully, although not without tears from all of us, including Fiona.  We'll all miss him.  He was a very special dog. 

New treatment plan: try increasing chemo frequency

Jazz was bright today, and eating and drinking normally. We went out for a short walk around the block too.

Fiona called this evening, and we discussed his ongoing treatment. Neither of us feel it's appropriate to change to a different drugs regime at this point (apart from anything else, other available drugs have more side-effects, and he's already had some severe reactions to other chemo drugs). However, we feel that the chemo is not lasting him for the full week now, so we're going to try the Vincristine every 5 days instead of every 7. This is not normal treatment (but then, if he was on normal treatment, we'd have been able to cut the Vincristine down by now, and when we tried dropping to every two weeks he got ill).

There is a risk that by treating more often, we'll start to attack good cells (such as the gut and bowel) as well as the cancerous ones, but since he's apparently feeling wiped out for two days a week now, when the Vincristine's "run out", we'll give it a try and see what happens.

Not for the first time, this really is starting to feel like the beginning of the end.

Enlarged lymph nodes

Because we were going out on Friday night, and I didn't want to leave Jazz on the drip with Ed dog-sitting, I booked Jazz in for a day at the vet's for his chemo and drip. He was VERY subdued all day, just lying on his side in the kennel, ignoring everything that was going on (even though there were workmen there removing the old portakabins in preparation for the building work that starts next month).

He was still very subdued on Saturday. In the afternoon, I noticed that he was very swollen around his neck and behind his jaw. (He's obviously decided that poodle impressions - the clipped legs for the chemo - are old hat now, and decided to look like a bloodhound instead.) This weekend, Helen was on duty, and she suggested I should give him an extra steroid injection in an effort to reduce this. (We were at Bridget's for her birthday this time - Jazz seems to be making a habit of making sure we're not at home when he gives us frights now.) Inspection by telephone seemed to show that it was the lymph nodes that were enlarged.

On Sunday morning, the swelling seemed to have reduced slightly - the lymph nodes were still about the same, but the jowly look was starting to go, although he was still pretty subdued. Slightly worryingly, we realised that some of the snoring we'd been hearing was while he was still wide awake. Concerned that his breathing might be impaired, I spoke to Helen and she offered to check him over. She confirmed that the swelling is the lymph nodes, checked his chest (as his breathing sounded laboured), but found it clear. She took his temperature (normal), looked down his throat (not obstructed) and generally gave him a thorough check. The good news is that the lymph nodes are quite mobile, and can get a lot bigger before they'll start to seriously block his airway. The snoring is because they're quite close to the larynx. She'll speak to Fiona tomorrow, and one of them will call me.

He got quite a lot brighter by the evening, asking to go out and demanding food in no uncertain terms, although there was still no sign of the lymph nodes reducing in size.

Because of the swelling, I've taken his collar off and replaced it with his racing harness.