If you’re a regular reader, subscriber, follower or stalker – you may have noticed the timing of my posts is out of wake and possibly the content has changed a little the last few days..

For those of you that are new here, my furry gal pal has Chronic Lymphocyatic Leukemia. She has been diagnosed since September 2019 but we were suspicious as early as 2016 that something was amiss.

At Christmas last year, shit hit the fan and we genuinely did know if we had days or weeks left with her. It was traumatic and exhausting and while we did a rescue protocol of chemotherapy, her disease is so complicated and so advanced it is very much trail and error with her. But we managed to get her stable and enjoying life again.

The last few week I have noticed some small changes. Very minor and to a less experienced Sarah, I would have palmed them off as nothing but I am two chemo protocols, pancreatitis, gluten allergy, ulcer wounds all over the body, bleeding bowls and many many more complications deep now and I know that if a dog is drinking a noticeable amount of water, something is wrong – seek medical advice, now.

So to fast forward through waiting to get into the vet, we caught up with our hero in scrubs yesterday. We ran a blood test and the good news is, it wasn’t any of my red flag concerns such as diabetes, kidney failure or liver failure. In fact, for an almost twelve year old dog with the medical history she has, Nahlas organs are doing incredibly well. I 100% attribute this to her diet and the decisions I have many throughout her illness to try and keep her in the best fighting shape possible.

But I promise you this – it does not matter how many times I get those blood results back and her white blood cell count is in the hundreds of thousands. I will never not be rattled to my core.

It’s been almost five years since I heard “I think she has Leukemia” over the phone that day and every time I see it advance or attack back, I still get that same feeling of drowning in my own heart break. What this brave soul endures so selflessly and with such grace is the worst of the worst. It is worst case scenario, the hardest of diseases. The most confronting thing is it’s her blood. It is her life source that the cancer is in.

Grief suffocates me. I have had a lot of grief in my short life, for myself, for Nahla, for my childhood, for the life I dreamt of. And one thing I have learnt is this..

Grief never shrinks. The tsunami never gets any smaller. We simply become better equipped to deal with the waves when the tsunami hits.

I am sharing this with you today because I am always honest with my readers and followers. The reason I have fallen behind on my creation of content is because I have needed a few days to sit on the couch and watch mind numbing nonsense to ease the drowning in my chest.

I know that if I do not allow myself to feel and process this wave of anger and resentment, it will manifest in other areas of my life.

I even cried in my yoga class today. I was dreaming of my wedding day and Nahla with her flower girl flowers because, you know it’s happening. And I couldn’t stop myself from crying.

The beauty in her disease is that every single second with her is a gift. Ever extra day is so valued and appreciated. And even though I hate it and even though sometimes I am drowning under another tsunami, eventually I find her face in amongst it all and I remember how much she has taught me about strength and courage when facing disease and hardship.

In the darkness and the heaviness of stage five Leukemia, she is so bright and full of so much love and compassion. She is the most beautiful soul and there will never be a second in my life that I am not thankful for her.

She is so inspiring, so bright, so kind. I am so blessed to have had the honour of walking this path with such a beautiful partner in crime.

Nahla – my girl. You’ll never read this, but I know you know, you have taught me more than any human being I have ever met. I will never be able to repay you for all you have given me and I thank the universe every day for you.

I would not trade a single second, even with the grief, for anything in the universe.

Thank you for being my first ever love and for healing the heart you didn’t break.

I love you.

Sarah x