It's an awful word. I don't like to say it. It makes me cringe and evokes more reaction than a cuss words. It's the terrible C word. Yes. Cancer.
And it's a word floating around our house because an immediate family member has just been diagnosed. Cancer. It's a heartbreaking, slam to the gut word. I hate it.
That would be our lovable, fuzzy friend Buddy.
Yes, Buddy has cancer.
I think I knew it was coming, ever since I found the suspicious lump. That's why he had emergency surgery last week. Now we have to set up an appointment with an oncologist. We have to explore options.
For now, Buddy is okay. They took the tumor, but they didn't get all of it. They couldn't, not without removing his boy parts, which are kind of essential.
The kicker is his age. He's healthy but old. So, we now have to decide what's best for him. I wish I could just ask him and have him tell me- yes, more surgery or no, just feed me steak every night and let me go.
Billy knows something is up. He knows Buddy is sick. And he's looked very closely at Buddy's staples all down his belly. Ugly stitches and staples. Billy has been nice enough not to touch, but is very curious about everything going on with Buddy.
So now we wait and see.