His Heart Scribe Inspirations Devotional Magazine January 2014 January Issue 2014 | Page 21

...
When my boyfriend Seamus is home
from work, he shares the responsibilities of
taking care of Oscar. But during the day,
it’s just me and the dog.
...
Oscar, unlike my caregivers, doesn’t
care that I’m tired, feeling nauseous after
my chemotherapy treatments. Every morning between 6 and 7, Oscar scoots over to
my side of the bed and begins the process
of baptizing me with his tongue until I
wake up.
...
Caring for Oscar is not
always easy, but trying to keep
up with him has been some of
the best medicine I’ve received
since my cancer diagnosis. Oscar and I have even shared similar experiences, and together,
we’ve slowly matured and grown more disciplined. He no longer pees on the Oriental
rug in my living room, and I have stopped
sleeping in until noon. Oscar just finished
getting his booster shots, and I will soon be
getting all of my childhood vaccinations for
the second time (a patient’s immunizations
are lost during a bone marrow transplant).
...
Walking up and down stairs used to
be a challenge for us.
I felt weak
and unstable
on my feet
after spending so much time on bed rest.
And Oscar’s short, stubby legs meant that
more often than not, he would end up tumbling rather than walking down the stairs.
Now, we bound up and down the stairs
with ease, taking them two by two.
I’ve found that I do some of my best think-

(Continued from page 15—Life Interrupted)

promised to wear gloves when walking and
feeding him, vowed that he would never
sleep in my bed and lined up four friends
to help take care of him when I lacked the
energy.
...
I spent months trolling animal
adoption websites for the perfect furry
companion but as soon as I saw Oscar, I
knew I had to bring all four,
wiggling pounds of him
home with me. With his soft
white fur, tiny heart-shaped
nose, and hazel eyes, it was
love at first sight.
...
But within 72 hours
of living with Oscar, I began
to wonder if I had made a huge mistake. I
had meticulously geared up for his arrival
(teething toys, a crate, and an armload of
cleaning products and stain removers:
check, check, and check). But nothing
could have prepared me for the task of
sprinting outside of my apartment building
at the crack of dawn with a peeing 8-weekold schnauzer-poodle mix. After a bonemarrow transplant and two and a half
years of ongoing
chemotherapy, my
muscles were weak
and my energy nonexistent.
...
Walking Oscar quickly became
the most dreaded
part of my day. After a few blocks, he
was warmed up and ready for a run in the
park. I, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to
crawl back into bed.

(Continued on page 28)

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