Fate can work in mysterious ways.
A couple of months ago I was invited to participate in a symposium conducted by the National Cancer Policy Board at the Institute of Medicine in Washington DC. The topic was cancer in dogs, and how we might find ways to benefit dogs, their owners and science to better inform the treatment of cancer in humans through what is called "comparative oncology". It was an unusual topic in my experience and that of my colleagues, so I eagerly anticipated learning about something I hadn't given much consideration to in the past.
Little did I know at the time how personal this journey was going to be for me and my family.
Shortly after I accepted the invitation, we received sad news: our Golden Retriever Lily-who has been a member of our family for 11 years-developed swelling in her face. Our vet saw her the next day and told us she had lymphoma. The outlook without treatment wasn't good, and with treatment wasn't much better.
Tears flowed in our home that evening.
A week later we found a mass on Lily's back leg. Another trip to the vet, another needle biopsy, and another cancer, this time a sarcoma. The prognosis was even worse. Lily likely had weeks to live.
Lily fortunately didn't suffer, and died peacefully last week. Our local vet and my newly acquainted veterinary oncologists from Purdue (who were part of the conference faculty) became our trusted guides through a journey about which we knew precious little.
And now I found myself offering a presentation as the last speaker at the symposium, discussing our journey and what I have learned from the conference. Getting past the tears of our loss wasn't easy. More...