One Year after My Jazz’s Death – Why I Feel I am to Blame

One year ago today,  June 5th, I woke up with the sweetest miniature black/gray poodle, Jazz,  laying on the left side of my body.  What I thought was him trying to get up by kicking his legs was actually him in the midst of a grand mal seizure.   He apparently climbed on me to be as close to me.  It was 5:30 am and I was still sleeping when the seizure occurred.    As soon as I realized what was happening, I called my husband, Ed, to come home asap.   No other words were spoken between us.   Ed knew it was bad.

By the time Ed arrived home,  the grand mal seizure had subsided but the permanent damage was done.   After Jazz collapsed in my arms,  he was panting heavily which meant his body/brain was overheating.    Suddenly,  Jazz popped up out of my arms and walked straight into a wall.    I’ve been through this same horrible nightmare of a scenario with two other dogs.   I knew the neurological damage he suffered meant the end was imminent.    Buddy and Lady, my two abandoned dogs, each survived grand mal seizures but their brains were affected greatly.   Buddy ran head first into a wall, then my tv then another wall.   He couldn’t stop running.  His legs wouldn’t stop moving even when held.  It wasn’t until he collapsed in my husband’s arms on the way to the vet that early morning that his legs suddenly stopped.   Lady didn’t run but she couldn’t stop walking in circles after several grand mal seizures.   After her third seizure,  she was walking but her eyes were vacant.   Jazz fell into the latter category.  He couldn’t stop walking in circles in our kitchen where we confined him so he wouldn’t get hurt.   He wasn’t in pain.   I would yell his name and he would stop momentarily and stare but not at me.   He knew my voice and connected with me.   He stopped one time for a few seconds to be with me.

There is nothing to do for a pet at this point but to humanely end their lives since there is no recovery.    On this day, I can vividly remember the morning events as if it happened yesterday.    My last happy moments with Jazz were less than 12 hours earlier as he jumped up on me when I entered our home.   He rolled and wriggled around on the floor in sheer delight making his happy noises as he always did when I  came home.  Those moments were positively precious to me.

In 2011,  Jazz’s “brother” Shadow died suddenly of congestive heart failure.   Two months later Jazz was diagnosed with localized oral melanoma which required radiation.   He pulled through this extremely well and was cancer free!

Jazz’s neck and jaw marked for radiation

We were nearly at the two year anniversary mark of Jazz being cancer free when we found a small lump in the same area of his mouth.   His oncologist was shocked that it not only returned but it was the aggressive type.  As I was sitting in the room listening to the surgeon and oncologist explain what was found in his biopsy after a small portion of his jaw was removed,  my head was literally spinning out of control.   I held Jazz close to my heart as the words aggressive cancer were bouncing in my head.  I was trying to comprehend the differing opinions from the two doctors.  A third doctor who was never named had yet a another opinion which I never heard.   I listened to the oncologist since she deals specifically with canine cancer.  The surgeon wanted to wait to see if the cancer would return and if it did,  Jazz would require more surgery.   Knowing the pain Jazz endured after the removal of part of his jaw, I knew I wouldn’t put him through that again.  I couldn’t see surgically removing more of his jaw as the answer.   That left chemotherapy.

I asked about side effects of the chemo and was told dogs tolerate it quite well.   The major side effect I had to be concerned about was anorexia – loss of appetite.   There was a chance his kidneys could be affected but the oncologist felt Jazz would do very well and would require three rounds.   Without it, I was told,  the cancer would return and spread in a couple of months.   I decided to start the treatment that day.   I sat with him as the IV needle delivered the toxins.  All I kept thinking was that we were destroying cancer cells.   Jazz started crying and I didn’t know why.   He was receiving fluids and needed to relieve himself.   Jazz always let us knew when he had to go out but never cried.  This came to be commonplace after the chemo.

I’ve never been through chemo with a pet.  I’ve lived through it with my mom and sister but never a pet.   When Jazz and I arrived home,  he was so wiped out I had him lie on a pillow on my lap.   When he raised his face to look at me,  I will never forget how he appeared.   He looked as if he was dying.   I cried wondering what I just did to my precious loved one.  I chose chemo because I wanted to save his life not to hurt him.  By the time we returned the next day for another dose, he had improved.   By the third day,  he wasn’t doing as well.  Blood tests were done each day and by the fourth day, it was decided to discontinue the chemo.   Jazz was in renal failure and immediately hospitalized to receive fluids.

What had I done?    Ed and I stayed by his side at the hospital.   Somehow, someway,  Jazz survived which they said was a miracle.   He now had permanent kidney damage.    As I did my research after not being told much of anything,   I changed his diet completely.   No more dry food.  He needed to receive fluids on a daily basis.  I don’t think the oncologist expected him to survive because she never told us when to change the amount of fluids we were giving him.  I noticed after two months of daily injections of fluids,  Jazz had improved a lot but his vision had been adversely affected.   His sight would leave him after getting IV fluids at times.  Other times,  his vision would return after receiving fluids.   The oncologist didn’t understand this phenomenon.   No one seemed to know about his blindness coming and going.   When Jazz was in crisis mode again a few months later,  we took him to our local animal ER who told us he was blind.  I told them his vision would return after getting fluids.  The didn’t believe me.   After a couple of hours of fluids,  his vision returned.   The next morning we had to transport him back to the oncologist again where he continued to receive fluids.    He survived once again!

Now I studied his condition in detail.   I used supplements.   He received special kidney-friendly homemade meals every day.   He had to wear hats because the sun caused him to lose his vision.     He saw a chiropractor to help him with a persistent back problem which started after the kidneys were affected.  I still feel the conditions were related.   He always improved after his chiro appt’s.    We worked so closely with Jazz.  We monitored everything that he ate and figured out the amount of fluids that was best for him on our own.    Jazz not only got better, he was thriving!  But, the permanent damage was done.   His oncologist said the only reason Jazz was still alive was due to our hard work and dedication to his health.   While I was so happy Jazz had improved,  I felt it was my fault he was in this position to start.

I was the one who decided to do the chemotherapy.   All I could hear is that Jazz had no chance of survival if he didn’t receive chemo.   Jazz never showed signs of cancer either time.  He was happy and playful at the time of each diagnosis.    I chose the chemo because it was caught in the early stage.   I thought I made the right decision.   I did ask the right questions but was barely told about possible renal failure.   Jazz nearly died from the chemo and felt it was  my fault.   He could never receive anymore chemo.  It would’ve killed him without a doubt.

Ed has never blamed me for Jazz’s kidney problems.  He’s always told me he agreed with my decision to do chemo.   It was his best chance at survival.

Jazz endured so much after his second round of cancer.   He was a fighter no matter what trials he endured and he endured too many.    I couldn’t believe how hard he fought to live.   Ed believed Jazz wanted to live for me.   I became Jazz’s world.   Jazz loved car rides. I took Jazz to functions but they became fewer.    He was always happy but I knew how confused he was when his vision left him.   We finally found out his vision was affected because of his blood pressure.   His kidneys and the fluids made his bp fluctuate which sadly played with sight but he never became permanently blind.

He so wanted to eat dry food.   We adopted his new brother, Brody, who ate dry food.   He would walk over to Brody while he was eating and push him out of the way so he could eat his favorite dry food.    As adorable as it was,  we couldn’t allow it.    Two nights before his death,  he began eating Brody’s food and as always, I playfully told him he couldn’t have it.  Had I known what was going to happen,  I would’ve let him eat to his heart’s content.   I would’ve done anything to save Jazz’s life and it felt I was responsible for bringing harm to him.  It was never my intention.   I hope Jazz knows I always had the best intentions for him.    I never wanted him to suffer as much as he did.   He was so unbelievably sweet.   Ed, Jazz, and I became a strong team with Jazz knowing he could completely rely on us to help him.   Jazz was diagnosed with the cancer but the three of us went through it together.

I honestly don’t know if I would choose chemotherapy for another pet again.    I saw the effects it had on Jazz and the images of his face after that first night are cemented in my mind forever.    I can still hear his cries having to go out and pee.   There were times he could no longer hold it and had accidents and we were never mad about it.   It was a byproduct of the chemo.

Jazz’s cancer never returned despite never finishing one round of chemo.    And despite Jazz being in the end stage of kidney failure,  we never knew it!   He never showed any classic symptoms.  He ate.  He didn’t become exhausted.  He still played.   He was happy.  He wanted to go away.  He didn’t sleep more than usual.   That last day was a shock.

I think about that last morning and how he climbed on the side of my body to be as close to me as possible as a grand mal seizure took over his body.    Ed was the last person to see Jazz as himself before he left for work.   He saw no abnormal signs.   He literally left 10 minutes prior to when I called him to come back home.   If only I had woken up to see Jazz one last time as he truly was,  I could’ve done something differently.   I know Jazz was a very happy boy but I’ll always wonder if he blamed me for what he had to go through.   What I decided for him was done out of love but I don’t know if I made the right decision.   I hope Jazz knew that.

One year ago today, my sweet boy took his last breath in my arms.   I miss him every single day.   I had an extremely difficult time with his death which is why I could never bring myself to write about him.   I believe he is reunited with his best bud and brother, Shadow.  Those two were inseparable and now they’re back together again.

Jazz,  I miss my sweet, strong fighter.   I never had a dog endure more heartache and health issues than you and you, my sweetie,  never lost your sweet demeanor.  If possible, you became even sweeter.    You were one special boy.  You live forever in my heart and soul   I wish I could’ve done more to help you.   Always in my heart.

Jazz and his best bud are now together again.

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