Any patient with a dog, knows that our faithful companions immediately sense when we're not feeling well and then do their best to help lick our wounds.
Last night was my turn to help out Betty, our wonder mutt. A little before 5 pm, she started coughing in convulsions. She lost bladder and bowel control. She wandered into the spare bedroom to isolate. Soon, she lost the strength in her legs. She couldn't walk and I couldn't carry her, so my neighbor came to the rescue and gave Betty a lift to the car.
We rushed to the emergency hospital in Eagle Rock and arrived just as they were opening at 6 pm. I was afraid that it was time to say goodbye to my faithful girl. But she pulled through, in spite of literally turning purple, a collapsed lung and a host of other problems set off by an inability to breathe.
We're hoping that Prednisone (the same drug that I take for rising EOS) reduces the swelling in her trachea so that we don't have to do surgery.
When we were at our local vet's office this morning, I stepped on to the giant scale and got a shock. "Is this scale correct?" I asked the vet's assistant in disbelief. Of course, it was. I just couldn't believe that I tipped the scales at 110 - an eight pound weight loss in less than a month. (This in spite of calorie contributions in the form of mac 'n' cheese and soups from two friends.) I've been having a host of ongoing GI problems, which I'm sure explains the plunge in pounds.
I'm scheduled at the City of Hope on Thursday and plan to ask for a referral to a GI specialist.
In the mean time, we sick dogs will just have to stick together and nurse one another back to health.
No comments:
Post a Comment