June 23-26, 2025 - Dior’s First Chemo & A Wound That Wouldn’t Quit

Monday morning, June 23, started out like any other post-surgery morning—until it didn’t.

Dior had done great overnight. When I got him up to go potty, I noticed a few blood droplets on the floor. At first, I chalked it up to minor drainage. But as he came back inside, I saw that his incision had a small spot where blood was actively seeping. I laid him down, applied pressure, and thankfully it stopped. He ate breakfast, took his pills like a champ, drank water, and seemed totally fine.

We had our first chemo appointment scheduled for the same day and I knew that as soon as he was up and moving, it was going to start bleeding again. While Brandon and I got the car ready, Dior got up from his bed to check on us. That movement triggered another wave of bleeding. By the time we were loading him into the car, our floor looked like a crime scene. We were frantically wiping down the floors and walls in our house and hosing down our garage and driveway as fast as we could.

We hit the road, 90 minutes to the vet, with Brandon in the backseat going through pad after pad trying to manage the bleeding. I was behind the wheel trying not to panic, checking Dior’s gums, eyes, demeanor—anything I could do to reassure myself that this wasn’t a true emergency. He was calm. Chill, even. Totally unbothered by what was happening. Meanwhile, we were spiraling.

When we finally made it to the clinic, Dior was still bleeding and left quite the trail from our car to the front door. I warned the front desk of the mess that was about to come through, and they prompted us to get a weight before entering the exam room. Poor Dior was slipping and sliding on the blood pooling beneath him with every step. Dr. Hunter quickly ran into the room, looked at the incision, knelt down, swiped her finger through the mess and calmly said:

“Oh, this is old blood. Totally normal.”

I almost hit the floor with relief.

Turns out, this wasn’t an active bleed. The dark, watery drainage was serous fluid and old blood from the surgical site, finally finding its way out through a weak spot in the incision. If it hadn’t drained, it would’ve eventually reabsorbed into his body—but it was clear the pressure had been bothering him for days. If you’re keeping up with Dior’s Incision journal (viewer discretion advised).

This was actually a blessing in disguise.

Dr. Hunter confirmed we’d still proceed with Dior’s first round of chemo and remove his stitches that day. They also drained the seroma under the site, gave him antibiotics, and added three days of nausea meds to his routine.

Brandon and I took the opportunity to go for a quick fishing trip nearby—no bites, and WAY too many mosquitos—but it felt good to breathe for a moment. We got the call several hours later: Dior was doing amazing and ready to go home.

And when we got home? It was like nothing had happened.

Dior got a sponge bath, inhaled his dinner, and actually stood and ate next to his sister for the first time since surgery. That night he slept soundly.

@haleyandthedane
Tripawd 🤝🏼 Stairs I’m so stinkin proud to be this boy’s mom 🫶🏼🐾❤️
♬ original sound – haley

Yesterday, June 25 was the turning point.

We asked Dior if he wanted to go upstairs. And y’all—he did. Effortlessly. Not just up but down again and with no assistance. He even hopped in and out of the car by himself when I ran a quick errand. For the first time in 13 days, we slept in our actual bedroom on the second floor. It was one of the best nights of sleep we’ve had as a family since diagnosis.

I’ve been keeping his surgeon, Dr. Ford, informed with photo updates of his incision and he’s cleared Dior for some light exercise beyond our four walls. Of course we will take things slow with some light walking up and down our street, but Dior is eagar for a change of scenery.

This week, Dior reminded me once again why I love him so deeply. His resilience. His calm. His drive to be near us, to do what he loves, even through pain or recovery. He’s unstoppable.

Our next adventure feels just around the corner—and for the first time in weeks, I truly believe we’re going to get there sooner rather than later!