For the past couple of months we have been on an emotional roller coaster. During a routine examination, it was discovered that our 9 year old Cocker Spaniel, Sarah, had a large mass in her liver.  She had to undergo a series of diagnostic tests, x-rays and an ultrasound, which the vet and radiologist concluded showed a large inoperable malignant tumor.  There were also other tumors present in her pancreas and possibly the spleen.  Next came aspirates of the tumors.  Outcome: inconclusive.  

One of our vets told us to let her do whatever she wants, eat whatever she wants; things that are said when there is no hope and little life left.  

We were devastated.

Our pets are part of our family; the thought of her impending death was almost too much to comprehend.  She was asymptomatic. She was running 3 to 4 miles without a problem. We were totally taken by surprise.  We take very good care of our pets.  Nothing but the best for them.  

In trying to make sense of this devastating news, we found ourselves on a journey.  An introspective journey into the land of Why.  Why God?  Why did this happen?  Why her?  Why us?  We had planned a Hawaiian vacation in June 2010 to celebrate our 10th anniversary.  We meant Hawaii, God, not Ha-WHY-aii!  Our journey led us to the island of Why.

Have you ever visited the island of Why?  Perhaps some of us still live there.  When we live on the island of Why, no explanations suffice in satisfactorily answering our questions.  On the island, our whys pile up like a 300 story building.  One on top of the other.  Getting heavier and heavier until you feel crushed under the weight of insatiable whys.  We had to figure out how to leave this island before Hope became its victim.

It doesn’t take long to realize that dwelling on the island of Why is a waste of energy.  We had to intentionally turn our focus from the whys to gratitude.  Gratitude for the time we had with her.  Gratitude for the unconditional love that she so freely gives.  Gratitude for the blessing that she is.  Gratitude for God's hand in all of this.  

Once our intention became gratitude, we began to cruise away from the island of Why.  After all, this discovery was "out of the blue."  Yes!  There is something to this.  It was discovered by what some might call “happenstance” but we believe to be God.  Gratitude for the University of California (UC) Davis Veterinary Medical Teaching Hospital located only 2.5 hours from where we live.  The vets at UC Davis are experts in all things animals.  

Gratitude breathed life into the corpse of Hope and our whys turned into hows.  How can we make this better?  How can her life be saved?  How?  Then we remembered. "Nothing is impossible with God."  Nothing, nada.  In the Gospel of Luke, chapter 1:26-38 (NIV), when the angel Gabriel brought startling news to Mary, he used these phrases:

“The Lord is with you.”

“Do not be afraid.”

“For nothing is impossible with God.”

Mary didn’t respond with whys, she asked how and received the answer.

We began seeing how the papillary ridges of God's fingers were impressed all over this situation.  We recalled the "coincidence" of the vet’s discovery of the tumor and the importance of how close we live to UC Davis.  We began looking for God more and more. The more we looked, the more we found the essence of God.

It wasn’t easy.  Every step of the way we would be tempted to take a one-way ticket back to the land of Why, but we refused the trip and began speaking, "We are expecting a miracle." This became our mantra. "We are expecting a miracle."  We said it out loud to anyone who would listen.  We posted it on our Facebook pages.  We wanted those words to ring in our ears and be confirmed with our eyes.

We had to wait three weeks for an appointment with the surgeon at UC Davis.  Three weeks is a lifetime when you only have a few months to live.  Despite the wait, we continued to pray over her and renew Hope while speaking the words, "We are expecting a miracle."  

When the three week wait was finally over, it was a Monday and the first snowstorm of the year emerged. Driving over the infamous Donner Pass through a fierce Sierra Nevada snowstorm wasn’t what we had envisioned, but we kept reminding ourselves of the angel Gabriel’s words.  A 2.5 hour drive evolved into four hours, then six.  We finally arrived. 

Hope was exhausted.   

The next morning, we met with the surgeon who explained that “it just so happened" that a world renowned soft tissue surgeon was there that week, that week only, and she would be his attending surgeon.  Aha!  That’s why we had to wait for three weeks!  More impressions of God’s fingerprints were revealed.  God brought this surgeon all the way from Australia to provide her expertise for Sarah’s surgery.  The surgeon cautioned that if the tumor was operable, it would be a very complicated surgery and they wouldn't know for sure if they could remove the tumor until they did another ultrasound and, if necessary, a CAT Scan.  We would have to leave Sarah there that day to be prepared for possible surgery.  We went back later that afternoon to visit with her knowing that if the tumor was indeed inoperable, she would come home with us the next day, Wednesday, after the results of the ultrasound and CAT Scan, or she would stay and have surgery.  We had already been told that we could not visit her during her recovery.  Something about animals getting too excited when they see their family, then depressed when the family has to leave again.  The earliest we could see her and possibly bring her home was Friday.

Hope became anxious, breathless.

We found out Wednesday morning that the ultrasound showed an encapsulated tumor and they didn't think a CAT Scan was necessary.  It was no surprise when we learned that due to the complexity of the surgery, the world renowned surgeon was now going to be the primary surgeon and the surgeon we had been talking with would be the attending.  We were told that Sarah may need a blood transfusion if she loses too much blood; this is a complicated surgery, tremendous risks.

Hope had to be revived.  There is no “do not resuscitate” (DNR) document when it comes to Hope.

Surgery was scheduled for late afternoon Wednesday; we traveled back home to wait and spend time with our other pets.  We received a call from the attending surgeon late that evening.  He wanted to know if they should continue the surgery because once they got in, they found "numerous" nodules on her liver and some on her pancreas.  He said they could just sew her back up and send her home.  

Hope stopped breathing.  

The surgeon could not tell us what to do; it was all up to us.  It didn’t look good he said, it wasn’t one or two nodules…they were numerous.

We told him to continue.  We would deal with the rest of it later, but for now, take the largest tumor which occupied 30% of her liver.

Hope was on life support.

We prayed.  We praised God.  We cried.  We praised God.  "Nothing is impossible.  We are expecting a miracle."

Sarah made it through the surgery, the earliest she would be released:  late Friday, most likely Saturday. 

Much to the surprise of the attending surgeon, Sarah made a strong recovery and he called us Friday morning to say she was ready to come home.  Friday, the day of the second snowstorm of the year, a snowstorm that was supposed to continue throughout the weekend.  Though this snowstorm tried to stop us, we continued to persevere, “The Lord is with us.  We are not afraid.”

We arrived at UC Davis safely and walked in to pick Sarah up.  The attending surgeon told us that the next 14 days were critical.  We had to keep her "quiet" all 14 days.  Keeping a Cocker Spaniel quiet for 14 days is no easy chore, especially with two younger Cockers waiting at home.  No playing, no jumping, no climbing stairs, no moving other than to eat and relieve herself. 

The pathology report would not be ready for 2 weeks.  They suggested that after she recovers from surgery, we should make an appointment with the oncologist to see what options are available.

The technician brought Sarah to the waiting room.  She was so happy to see us.  The waggle of her two inch tail brought tears of joy to us.  She’s alive, she’s happy, she’s precious, she’s one of God’s little creatures.

Hope began breathing on its own.  

After we made it home, we inspected Sarah’s incision.  50 staples in her red and purple bruised belly and a funky haircut was a painful reminder of what she had gone through.  Did we make the right decision?  We had already come to the conclusion that we would not put her through this again and we would not want her go through chemo.  She's been through enough.  We are expecting a miracle.

Hope was bruised.

A few days after returning home, she sneezed, yelped and popped a staple.  We were concerned.  We called the attending surgeon.  He said not to worry about the staple, after all, there were 49 left and internal stitches as well.  He also said he was glad we called because the preliminary pathology report had come in.

Hope held its breath.

He began reading the results:  tumor...benign.  Pancreas tumors...benign.  Lymph nodes...clear.  Other nodules on her liver are fibroids caused by the large tumor. Liver supplements should take care of that.

Our expectant miracle was birthed.

Hope breathed deep.

Thank God that no CAT scan was initially ordered.  They would surely have seen the other nodules and not performed the surgery.  God’s fingerprints. 

Hope is alive and well and so is our Sarah baby.  Hope has no DNR document because "Nothing is impossible with God." Hallelujah!