”A Leap of Faith”

We welcome guest author Jackie AuCoin McQueeney with her incredible life story.

by Jacqueline McQueeney, Bristol, Connecticut

I was diagnosed with cancer in 2010. Sarcoma. Stage 4. I am still alive today and a dog helped me make a leap of faith; faith that I would live.

My opinion of dogs in general changed in 2010, which was also the year I learned that I had cancer. As far as the cancer, the first little inkling that there was something wrong with me occurred in June of that year. I developed a little, tiny squeak in my breathing….just a little “eek” at the end of each breath. I could make it go away if I took a deep breath or coughed, so I thought nothing of it. But it didn’t go away. Over the summer, the squeak escalated to a loud rattling wheeze, one that I could feel rumble in my back. And then it turned into a cough. Even then, I did not really feel alarmed. My doctor prescribed an inhaler and then antibiotics, but neither helped mitigate the unrelenting cough. It worried me a bit, but at that time my sister and I had taken up biking and I chalked it up to inhaling large amounts of pollen or a bug. But by August it had gotten so bad, I was now coughing up a bit of blood-tinged sputum. But I never smoked a day in my life! The thought that this nagging cough could be cancer never entered my mind. Until it did.

Around this same time in 2010, my daughter Maddie, who was 21 then, returned to the family home so she could complete her college degree. She started to think, to wish, that she could get a Pomeranian puppy. Specifically, she wanted a black one. We already had a family dog, a slim black female Italian greyhound mix, named Petey (short for Pupita). But Petey was so completely bonded to my husband that to say she was a family dog really wouldn’t be true. She was Rob’s dog, and he was her human. So, although I wasn’t crazy about the idea, I relented. Late that summer, my daughter and I took a girly road trip from Connecticut to Pennsylvania to pick up a new puppy; the last of his litter. We had faith that this little black fluff ball was destined to be “her” puppy. She named him Nova. I coughed the whole trip, both ways.

MADDIE and NOVA, Cape Cod, Massachusetts

Nova started out as a bratty puppy. Maddie had to attend her college classes and I was working, so we tag-teamed caring for the puppy. Nova was difficult to housetrain. I became tired of cleaning up pools of pee on the carpet. In fact, I was generally tired all the time and frequently took naps in my car during lunchtime at work. At one point, I’m ashamed to admit, I floated the idea of re-homing Nova. I did not feel very well and training a puppy and all that goes with it was taking a toll on me. I was still coughing without knowing why. Thankfully, Maddie put her foot down and stated that we would be keeping Nova, no matter what. I told my doctor I thought it was time to do a chest X-ray.

My doctor called the evening of the x-ray and told me there was a mass in my lung. Perspiration broke out and my forehead glistened. I asked how worried I should be about that finding. He answered only “I wish it wasn’t there”. It was September. My life was different after that phone call. There were more tests, a biopsy, a PET scan and a puppy to raise. In a way, the puppy’s needs came first, just like a baby’s would. Nova needed to be walked, played with and trained, so he was the perfect distraction. Although he was my daughter’s dog, Maddie was away a lot during that fall for school and to visit a long-distance boyfriend. Nova became my little buddy. I had never had a dog like him. As he started to shed his dopey puppy ways, he became a delight and earned his place in our hearts, especially mine. It was October.

Nova at 2 years old

The results of the lung biopsy revealed that I had a malignant fibrous histiocytoma. Say what? I was expecting to be told I had lung cancer. I never heard of MFH. Due to the rarity of this diagnosis, I decided to move any further tests and/or treatment to the Smilow Cancer Hospital, at Yale New Haven Hospital. One of the advantages of living in central Connecticut is its close proximity to several major cancer centers. A PET scan was done at Yale’s Smilow Cancer Hospital in New Haven. It showed that the primary mass was in my uterus and had spread to my lung. The coughing was caused by a single large tumor in my lower left lung. The primary tumor was in the wall of my uterus. The only symptom from the uterine tumor was a couple days of pain a few weeks prior.

By Thanksgiving, I had had two major surgeries within a 3-week period; a complete open hysterectomy and the removal of my lower left lung. Two large tumors were now in the trash, kiwi to small orange in size. But in the midst of this medical disaster, there was Nova, our bright star, the cutest ever bundle of fluff. I started chemo shortly after Christmas.

Chemo is not fun. It saps your strength and delivers a fun assortment of miserable side effects after each infusion. On a cold day just after New Year’s, after I had had only a couple of infusions, I took Nova for a walk in knee-deep new snow. There is a large field near our home that is open to hikers. Many people bring their dogs there to run off-leash. By this time, I had some experience with Nova off-leash in smaller, controlled settings and he would always return to me when I called. I didn’t feel that it was wrong to let him off his leash so he could really burn off some energy bounding in the deep snow. Although my legs felt heavy and sluggish from the chemo, I could still manage to walk pretty well. Mid-way during our walk, Nova decided he needed to scale a very steep hill. Crap! The lure of the hill was just too much for him! He did not come when I called him. There was no way I could go after him. I was panicky! How would I ever explain to Maddie that I lost her puppy! So, I took a leap of faith. I turned and walked away. I had taken only a few steps before Nova noticed that I was leaving him. After a moment’s thought, he pivoted and bounded back down the snowy hill and returned to my side. Big praises for Nova and we finished our walk in the cold air. I was heaving frosty clouds of relief all the way back to the car.

That first walk in the snow was a learning experience for Nova and a revelation for me. He learned that we were his family and he did not want to be without us. After that day, Nova could be taken to fields or woods without a leash. He didn’t need to be called back very often anymore because he took frequent peeks over his shoulder to check that his family was still with him. Sometimes I’d hide myself behind a tree, just to see what he’d do. Of course, once I was out of view, he hurried back to find me so the walk could continue. This ability to take Nova with me anywhere, without fear that he’d run away, was a total revelation to me! Dogs could actually be companions! Was this a Pomeranian thing? My previous experience with dogs was that they would run away, far, as soon as there was an opportunity. Guy and Beau (hound mixes). Poco (Norwegian Elkhound). Jezzy (lab mix)…were all runners who would not even have it occur to them to come back until they were lost and exhausted. (Petey, Rob’s dog, WAS good about staying in her own yard, but she would whine if Rob was not there). I take some of the blame for my prior dogs. All of them were pre-internet, where there are endless dog training blogs, videos and advice. As a result of inadequate training, my experience with dogs was over-shadowed by one thing…..DON’T LET THE DOG GET OUT! It was not enjoyable to have a dog. It was a pain.

However, Nova was a joy! His happy-go-lucky nature melted away some of the fear and discomfort from my diagnosis and treatment. He made me laugh and gave me a reason to do things that I really didn’t feel like doing, like our hikes in the woods and eventually swims in the pond (yes, a swimming Pomeranian!). But the day came when my treatment was over and I was feeling more like myself. Maddie’s life stabilized and she had a place of her own. She wanted Nova to start his life as her dog in her home. As was only right. But losing Nova was a heartbreaking blow to me. He was my pal, my little buddy. I hid my disappointment over loosing Nova from my family and Rob and I became a one-dog family again.

Cancer receded from my life a little in 2011. Treatment was over, my hair was growing back, scans were good and lingering side effects from the surgeries and chemo were fading from memory. I felt pretty good, actually. But the surveillance scan I had at Yale in June 2012 brought all that to a crashing halt. In the doctor’s office for the post-scan appointment, where I heard that I was no longer in remission, I asked to see the messy black and white pictures of my lung, so I could see what he saw. A white marble-sized spot, round and innocent looking, sat in my right lung.

This was a really bad turn of events. I had started out at stage 4 and now the cancer had returned. This was really bad. However, surgery to remove the new tumor was scheduled quickly and I was back in the operating room at Yale 4 days after the new tumor was discovered. This surgery was done via VATS, which means video assisted thoracic surgery. Piece of cake. But now what? The statistics were now considerably worse than they were before, even though I was technically cancer free again now that the marble was removed. Of all the things I’ve learned during my cancer journey (I hate that expression) is to never ask for a prognosis or statistics. My doctors never offered one and I never asked. What good would it have done? None. Unless I need to get my affairs in order immediately, I don’t want to know about my odds.

With the latest surgery behind me, I decided to look for another dog to fill the void Nova left in my life. I decided I needed to believe I would live and what better way to go on living than to share it with a dog who needed me? And I made the ultimate leap of faith. I started looking on Petfinder for a larger, Pomeranian-type dog.

Augie in the Snow

In December of 2012, the year my last tumor was removed, I adopted Augie (FKA Bosco). My once-in-a-lifetime dog. Augie was a large 25-pound black Pomeranian, like Nova. His bio stated that he was picked up as a stray in Lafayette LA and that he was a “bundle of fun”. In hindsight, “fun” was not an adjective I would pick for this dog! He was serious. I remember him being placed in my arms when we picked him up from the rescue transport (Rescue Road Trips). He looked so worried! If he had brows, they would have been knitted! We didn’t go straight home that day, but to the wooded park where I often took Nova. We brought Petey too, so they could get to know each other in neutral territory. Augie never took his eyes off me. After a while on the long-lead, I let him off the leash (in hindsight, this sounds crazy. I’m sorry). Like Nova, he stayed with me, checking over his shoulder frequently. He picked up a long branch-like stick and pranced it around like he couldn’t believe his good luck. Maybe they didn’t have sticks in Louisiana. I smiled and I knew. I said to my husband that day “He’s going to be my new best friend”. And he was. And I went on living.

Augie, worrying that I would drown. That little spec is me. I think he would sit there until he died if I never came back.

To say that dogs are my best friends is an understatement. I and my family have been through a lot but my dogs certainly made me laugh longer and enjoy my life. Thank God for dogs!

AUGIE WAITS