Let me set the scene for you. Ginger and I have seen our doctors multiple times in the last few months. We are taking new meds to resolve problems that our other treatment plans haven’t resolved. An example of that is I’m injecting myself with testosterone every other week. My third shot will be later this week.

Ginger has been down to Purdue Veterinary Hospital a half-dozen times for inflammatory bowel disease. More to the point, Ginger has been down to Purdue twice in the last month and will be there next month. When I say, “Let’s go to Purdue,” she will go the door to the garage all excited.

These recent trips aren’t like when we would go to Purdue due to Ginger dancing with death. There have been a couple of trips to Purdue that I wasn’t sure that I would be returning home with her. However, these trips allow Dr. Gibbs to give Ginger a new drug as she weans her off some other meds.

We arrived at Purdue Veterinary Hospital. For some reason, Ginger seemed pensive even though I assured her all would go well.

In a couple of minutes, Ginger heard her name. She jumped up to play with one of the students who would take her to the exam room. The students work closely with the doctor, part of their educational program, to become vets themselves. As the student and I walked to the room, Ginger stopped and wanted to visit the owners of other dogs in the waiting area. Ginger doesn’t interact with other canines; she wants contact with people. Finally, after pulling her away from several people, we got to the exam room. The student jotted down my responses to questions about Ginger’s health. She said that Dr. Gibbs would be in a couple of minutes.

Dr. Gibbs came into the exam room with two other students. She said they would take Ginger to another area of the hospital to run some tests. It didn’t take Ginger long to realize she now had her doctor and two students to interact with. She was so excited that one of the students couldn’t get ahold of her leash. The more people around Ginger, the merrier she was.

Off they went. Ginger was now the center of attention. I would have loved to see her react to the other staff members. An hour later, Dr. Gibbs returned with the students. Dr. Gibbs asked me all sorts of follow-up questions about Ginger. I responded that she was doing well with the new medicine. Then, she presented her treatment plan. Initially, she wanted to wean Ginger off a steroid she has been taking for several years. For the next month, Ginger was to take the steroid every other day.

When Ginger returns to Purdue, she must be there at 7:30 am without taking any of her medicines that morning. Dr. Gibbs will decide whether Ginger can stop the steroid capsules and decide what dose of the new drug she must take. By then, Dr. Gibbs can determine whether she needs to continue her weekly B-12 shots.

Dr. Gibbs ended the check-up and told Ginger she could return home. Ginger excitedly said goodbye to the students and Dr. Gibbs, and off she went.

As I drove home with Ginger, my mind drifted back to the other times I was sure Ginger would make it. I recalled my two dances with death.

I learned a critically important lesson from my two dances. My clock is ticking. That lesson was reinforced with Ginger’s two dances. Live in the moment. Someday, you won’t have any moments left.