I just had a couple of really dark days – about 48 hours where I could not stop crying, and then about 24 hours where I could not stop sleeping :-).

I guess it was not until my brother and-sister-in-law went back to Copenhagen that I really had time to reflect on the events since diagnosis on 16 June, and a reaction should not have come as a surprise.

The instant feeling of dread and panic when I heard the diagnosis – what was going to happen to Max. The hectic time activating all networks, and their networks trying to find a good home for an eight-year-old rescue dog, in a city already flooded with dogs for adoption, and now also from Ukraine, and the immense sadness at the thought of parting with him. The research – lumpectomy or bilateral mastectomy? The meeting with the surgeon to confirm: bilateral mastectomy. The bureaucracy of first waiting far too long for the cost estimate from the hospital, the misinformation from the sickness insurance as to what I needed to do (wasting several days trying to get that done – for nothing), the nightmarish day at the hospital where in the end surgery had to be postponed. The even worse nightmare of, for a couple of days thinking the shelter was the only solution for Max (even the shelter had to be persuaded after they told me they were completely full), until at the last minute, with the help of my neighbour-dogwalker Frank and Sabine, we found him a great new home. And one of the worst moments of my entire life: seeing him off to that new home in Köpenick (Frank and Sabine kindly took him in their car) (but which was of course a thousand times better than taking him to the shelter).

It all hit me a couple of days ago.

Many people do not understand why I decided that I would no longer be able to take care of Max. As if a cancer diagnosis and the uncertain future that comes with it were not reason enough. (Don’t even get me started about the response from the so-called adoption agency, House of Bitches – pure narcissistic evil, which also should not have come as a surprise since they had been monumentally unprofessional from day one).

Max is very strong, and still a bit anxious and reactive in certain situations. I can just about handle him with the upper-body strength I have now – strength that I will lose after this type of surgery, and – since I am not getting any younger – can’t be certain that I will ever regain. In fact, even hoping that I will not need debilitating treatments post-surgery, it is more likely that I will not be able to completely regain that strength, and that it will become irresponsible of me to take Max out in the streets around here. And Max is the kind of dog who needs a lot of exercise.

And all that, by the way, is also the reason why I did not “just get someone in to walk him occasionally”, as many have suggested. I don’t know how they imagine getting an experienced dog-walker in to walk a dog at least three times a day, seven days a week would be doable. The dog-walker I originally had once a day twice a week was a great arrangement, and luckily, since it was holiday time, he was able to include Max up to six times a week since my diagnosis, but that still leaves at least two shorter rounds every day. But as always, it is people who have never had dogs who are the experts and full of totally unrealistic advice.

I did have in mind to place Max in a dog pension until I knew more about what the future holds in terms of my health (chemo? radiation), but since this is holiday time, they were all full – or at least the ones in any kind of vicinity of Berlin. I was too exhausted to contemplate travelling with him to the other end of the country, even if I had been able to find him a place.

Even though I miss him very much, I do feel good about the solution we found, and would once again like to say that without my neighbours/dogwalker/dog trainer couple, I simply would not have been able to pull off this solution, and I am forever grateful for their help at one of the lowest points in my life. And the instant feeling of dread and panic I felt while wondering what would happen to him is something I never want to feel again. If I ever mention the possibilitiy of acquiring another pet – someone please shoot me.

In the coming week, I will concentrate on bringing my spirits up, eating as healthily as possible, go to a few exhibitions hopefully not too well visited and which I can reach without using public transport, staying away from people (I REALLY do not want to catch Corona right now ….), and keeping my fingers crossed that things will fall into place with the payment.

It is still, after a week, a “he-said-she-said” situation with the sickness insurance saying they have paid the bill, and that I am NOT to pay it myself, and the hospital saying they have not received the payment and suggesting that I pay the bill myself. Getting rather sick and tired of the whole thing and dreading any future similar situations.

With the invaluable help from my neighbour/dogwalker/dog trainer, we have found a new home for Max, and it is even in a much more suburban and quiet area than this one, and in a house with a garden. Max’s foster parents from before I adopted him also have a big hand in making this happen.

Immense relief knowing that Max will be in good and loving hands now added to the immense sadness of the last few weeks. Not to mention the stress.

Added bonus, Max’s new owner would like to stay in touch, and would like me to visit for coffee and a walk in the forest, and – always depending on my health, of course – I have offered to house- and dogsit if she ever has to be away for any length of time.

Also, after a couple of weeks of nailbiting trials and tribulations, one of two important approvals from my sickness insurance company has come through, and the other one is alledgedly in the pipeline. In that context, I guess one of the “problems” was that the waiting lists in Berlin for this kind of surgery are relatively short, which is incompatible with the heavy bureaucracy of the sickness insurance for current and former EU employees. Had I lived in Denmark, I would probably have had to wait for the surgery for months rather than weeks, and therefore had plenty of time to get the paperwork done.

Head- and stomach aches, as well as brain fog, suddenly lifting, and I already have a bit more both mental and physical energy. I can now start to look forward to the arrival of my brother and sister-in-law, whom I have not seen for three years, and relax with them until surgery on 12 July. This will also mean that my home will feel less empty with them here, even after Max moves to his new home some time this coming weekend.

My wonderful neighbour/dogwalker/dogtrainer are helping me with Max now since it was all getting too much.

A lot of stress, also with my insurance company dragging their feet, gave me brain fog, stomach aches, and sleepless nights. Not mention printer/scanner kaputt, and new printer not working either.

Anyway, Frank and Sabine hated the idea of the shelter as much as I did, so they have assured me that that is out of the question and they also interviewed a potential new owner for Max, and took him to see her and spend a trial sleepover and picked him up again. I already don’t know what I would have done without them. We are now waiting to hear the final decision of this potential new owner. I am keeping my fingers crossed since we all like her very much and her surroundings would be so much better for Max than mine. Should this fail, we do have a relatively long-term, but temporary, though very good, solution to fall back on.

However, while waiting for this decision, the search is still on, and anyone interested in further information about Max can check out previous posts, and/or send me a message and I will send them the Steckbrief about Max which Sabine and Frank wrote.

If they are still interested, they should contact Frank and Sabine on this e-mail address.

… because I now have to consider the last two options for Max (shelter, and if that does not work out, then euthanasia).

I and many others have spent weeks exploring all options to make sure it does not come to that.

I don’t wish bad things on (most) other people, but I really think all those who are so judgemental should try, for just one day – not weeks – to know what the chaos of receiving a cancer diagnosis, worrying about what is going to happen to one’s dog, and facing major surgery on a date coming ever closer, and an uncertain future after that.

Just one day, and feel the sense of desperation, dread and anxiety it causes, and how it makes it impossible to focus on anything else. Not to mention the immense sadness which has to be put to one side and dealt with later.

I have been asked whether the fact that I have been diagnosed with breast cancer is a secret. It is not. The last thing I want to do is perpetuate the stigma I feel is still attached to “The Big C”. What I know so far is on my website.

Alhough I may or may not keep a kind of diary on my website whenever I need to organise my thoughts or have major news to report, there is enough literature, blogs etc. everywhere on the internet and in social media, support groups on Facebook (reading about the number of young women with small children, going through years of radiation, followed by chemotherapy, over and over, is certainly sobering), …. and I don’t feel a crusty old battle-axe like me with (hopefully soon) only herself to take care of, and most of her life behind her will be able to contribute anything novel or different.

For now, this is quite new, a bit of a shock (although I don’t know why it should be – cancer hits one in three or four of us sooner or later), and now I know what people mean when they say a kind of chaos ensues after a cancer diagnosis. As detailed on my website, my first priority is to find a good home for Max, before I can focus on facing and coming to terms with yet another new chapter of my life.

Thank you for all the messages of support received so far. I hope it is OK that I am currently too scatter-brained to reply to everybody individually, and I also need time every day to switch that aspect off and focus on other things – not least Max – and clear my head a bit. Especially since I don’t yet know much about how my life will look in the coming months, I have to try not to think about it 24/7.

EDIT 28 June:

If no miracle happens before that, I am taking Max to Tierheim Berlin in the afternoon of Monday, 4 July. Although with my date for major surgery moving closer and closer, I am relieved that somebody will be looking after him, but this is definitely not the solution I was hoping for, but I unfortunately have no other choice. Berlin seems to be flooded with dogs for adoption from southern and eastern Europa, “Covid dogs”, and now also dogs from Ukraine.

EDIT 18 June:

Finding a solution for Max is getting urgent. Agonising over his future (and of course my own, but for now, mostly his) is keeping me awake at night. It is all starting to cause me what I can best describe as pangs of anxiety. I am dizzy with fatigue, and totally incapable of concentrating properly, which I feel is making me unfit to walk him in the streets around here. Knowing him in good hands would be an enourmous relief.

Perhaps I should also add that Max has been on holiday twice with Lucky Dog Berlin. There, they have farm animals, cats, and young children, and I was told that that all worked out really well. Anyone who wants to know more about the combination Max and children may want to inquire directly with them.

ORIGINAL POST

I am now officially a cancer patient. The consultation in which my options will be discussed takes place next week, but after doing a bit of research, and given my age (topless sunbathing has long been a thing of the very distant past), I will probably opt for a double mastectomy. Whether I will need radiation and/or chemotherapy after that will only become completely clear during and after the surgery.

Whatever happens, this new turn of events is already draining me of energy and I am finding it hard to focus on taking care of Max. Of course after surgery, I will also be physically unable to handle a dog like Max and take proper care of him for a considerable length of time, and I am therefore looking for a new home for him. This pains me greatly for several reasons.

Before I adopted him, he had already lived a slightly nomadic life for a little over a year after he arrived in Berlin from a shelter in Spain, where he had spent three years. It is not clear to me, what kind of life he had before the shelter. Max is from 2014, and is half Podenco. The other half is unclear, but many have suggested labrador (based on his voracious appetite, I think – Max is not exactly a fussy eater).

I really would not like to see him going from household to household again. The other options – shelter or euthanasia – I can’t even think about right now. I will therefore try to describe Max as accurately as I can so that people who might be interested in adopting him know what to expect.

Max quickly becomes attached to his owner and his home, and needs a lot of attention, affection, and exercise. He also likes ritual, with certain things happening after each walk, for example, like a “Streichel-session” (his “Streichelbedard” is limitless). And for example if I go to bed without saying goodnight, even if he is fast asleep when I go to bed, he comes to my bedroom a few minutes later with an air of – did you not forget something? – we then say goodnight, and he turns around and goes back to his bed in the living room.

I have a great dog-walking service for him twice, sometimes three times a week, where he is taken by car to the outskirts of Berlin to run around (and he really likes to run) off the leash together with three or four other dogs. This is probably his favourite thing and it works really well.

On other days I often take him to one of the dog parks, either those within walking distance or a couple  of those further afield by public transport. He loves the dog parks and the socialising with other dogs there, but he is still a little bit nervous on public transport and needs to be watched and reassured in case he suddenly decides to lunge towards one of the other passengers. He is of course always muzzled on public transport.

In the streets, Max walks relatively well on the leash, but he is easily distracted and sometimes needs to be reminded of his acquired good manners. He also still tends to get reactive when he is startled, so whoever walks him has to be very aware of what is happening around them, and of who or what Max is looking at, and always have a firm grip on the quite short leash. I therefore keep him muzzled at all times while walking the streets. The muzzle will never be his favourite item, but he seems to have resigned himself to that fate.

Max knows that his eating and my eating are two completely separate events, and even if I eat right next to him, for example on the balcony, he knows to leave me completely alone. When there are visitors he might try to get their attention but quickly understands that the same rules go for them as for me, and he then lies down and waits till we have finished eating. As for begging food at the table or trying to get at food left out somewhere, this is something he has apparently never considered, let alone tried.

Max does not bark or howl when he is home alone (which once or twice a week can be up to four hours), but he does stage quite a drama when I come home. Profuse stroking and petting calms him down, but funnily enough also sending him to another room and closing the door quiets him down immediately.

To me, Max is a fantastic dog and a joy to have around. It breaks my heart to have to let him go, but such as my life is going to be for a foreseeable future, knowing him in good hands with somebody who will appreciate his idiosynchacies would be a great relief.

I shall miss him terribly.

Here are some photos of Max, followed by links to a couple of videos. Anyone seriously interested in more information about Max is welcome to write to me on this e-mail address. It is quite urgent.