The cancer roller coaster

I'll get straight to the point of this post: We were told via cytology and biopsy that Bugsy's tumor was a histiocytic sarcoma - a localized version that unfortunately had attacked the spleen.
For the record splenic carcinomas are BAD.

But the surgeon - who I respect highly - mentioned there were additional tests that are more specific. So I agreed to do them.

Would you believe it came back NOT histiocytic sarcoma?
If you know Bugsy and his history, you would.

The surgeon was happy. Our regular vet was happy. I was fairly happy.
I sent the lab report to my good friend that works at the vet school and she shared it with one of the oncologists.
Well the fact it's a rare cancer was confirmed. So rare that there aren't many studies on it - he provided snapshots of three, one was 20 yrs old - and no real idea as to what if any chemo helps.
Still feeling buoyed by all the vets saying this was still better than histiocytic sarcoma I was hit hard by the oncologist statement that it wasn't a "better' diagnosis due to the "high mitotic index".
For inquiring minds it is termed a "nonangiomatous and nonlymphomatous splenic sarcoma".

So that is the background.

Bugsy has continued to feel quite well ( according to observation) and that means that he is constantly living on the edge of being in trouble.  Which has kept me from really thinking about the situation.

In the evenings it hits me pretty hard, it's odd, all of a sudden I think, "OMG no Bugsy?"
I truly cannot imagine and I wind up sobbing. But it passes quickly. All very strange as it is literally a wave that passes as quickly as it arrived.

The last few days have been a bit tougher. Due to his obsessive digging at the beach, the return to daily zoomies and not being on adequan for a couple of months, his shoulder is killing him.
It isn't too bad but then he decides to zoom.  Once it's over he can barely walk but he doesn't seem to regret the decision to zoom.
It reminds me of how weak he is. I rub the shoulder or massage his upper back and am so aware of the muscle loss.
I want to remove the pain so he can enjoy life to the full these last months.

I want to hold him (which occassionally he'll allow). I want him to know how much he's loved and that it is OK if he doesn't want to zoom.

The beauty of Bugs is that he WILL zoom, likely beyond when it is even physically possible. Because his heart explodes with joy.

And here are the tears.
I have been exceptionally blessed to have such a beast in my life for so long.  I still can't picture life without him.
Tonight I'll listen to his sleeping sounds and drink in all that I can.
I'll allow that slow deep breathing to calm me and to bring me to peace and sleep.

Good night sweet boy, thank you for all you do, even the bad things.