Sunbeam

What happened to Jake

Around 6:30 on Tuesday night I noticed that Jake had a rash. It spread across his chest and left little pin prick red dots all over his belly and the insides of his legs. There were red marks on the side of his head, the top of his head, the underside of his chin, he was red and spotty all over. I thought he had poison ivy, I took and posted pictures on flickr to see if anyone could confirm. I gave him a bath in case he still had something on him that was irritating him, but as he seemed to not be itchy and otherwise feeling well, I didn’t worry. Truthfully I worried more about catching poison ivy myself. We went to bed and the next morning he was his normal bouncy self. Still some red, but it was fading. There were a few new spots too, but I just figured it was part of the cycle. I went to work. I worried about him during the day, but when I got home he was normal, running around, eating and peeing and pooping, fine. We chilled.

Thursday morning I woke up and was getting ready for work when Jake barfed. That’s not atypical Jake behavior, he’s a barfy little guy. But he barfed what looked like a clear brownish reddish liquid. Blood. I sniffed it. Blood. We headed to the vet. At this point my best guess was that he’d eaten something (I thought a pork chop bone that he’d found in the yard) that irritated his throat and gave him hives because it was gross and dirty. Sometime I think I go to the vet too much, I don’t want to be an over-reacting doggy-mama. I was really expecting them to say that he was fine. I asked to see Dr. Gilbert b/c the asshole blond vet was on duty too.

Sidenote: He is the stupidest, most unfeeling assfaced fucktard. For one thing it’s clear he doesn’t like small dogs. I’ve seen him with labs and rotties and other big animals, and he’s all over them. Whenever he’s seen my dogs he’s been a stupid ass, talking in circles, nonchalant no matter the problem, refusing to speak clearly. It’s hard to explain but if you’re a mom and you’ve been to an asshole doctor w/your kid you would get it. He makes no sense, and he talks to me as if it’s my fault he’s making no sense. He’s also incredibly nonchalant, no matter what he’s telling you. This summer he recommened an operation on Bruiser (despite her advanced age and heart murmur) to remove a lump on her stomach that eventually went away on its own. He didn’t even know what it was, but he wanted to anesthetize her and remove it. He also said that they’d just “go ahead and do a dental” on her while she was out. He didn’t even LOOK AT HER MOUTH to see that she’d just HAD a dental. Ass.

Dr. Gilbert is the doctor who helped Princess B through her Xylitol poisoning, and I trust her, as well as respect the way she talks to me about what’s happening. We saw her and I pointed out the rash and then that he’d been vomiting what looked like blood. That’s when she explained that this wasn’t a rash, this was petechia. If you watch crime shows you know that’s what’s in the victim’s eye whites when they’ve been strangled. It’s itty bitty bleeding under the skin. For some reason Jake was bleeding internally, and from his stomach. She thought it might be poison, like he ate rat poison or the carcass of a rat that died of rat poisoning. She said that it was very serious, that I should be prepared that it was very serious. I prepared myself by starting to cry helplessly. She went to take some blood from him and she was gone a loooong time. When she came back she said she’d double checked her first idea in a book, then called a specialist vet, and now she thought it wasn’t toxin-related, but was an auto-immune response. His body was attacking his own platelets and destroying them, so his blood couldn’t clot anymore. They had to have the bloodwork to confirm one way or the other, but in the meantime she was sending us to Veterinary Specialty Services at 141 & Manchester. This is a full-fledged animal hospital with an ICU and all kinds of equipment most vets don’t have. They see patients by referral from a regular vet only. She sent us there, saying that we had “a few hours left” to start treating him. I was very scared.

We went out to the VSS place and saw Dr. Greer. She explained that she needed the bloodwork to confirm, but this was a classic presentation for something called immune-mediated thrombocytopenia (IMT). She said that there were many reasons that a dog could present with IMT, and explained the bloodwork, ultrasound and x-ray things they could do to try to determine why it was happening to Jake. She also said that in 75% of the cases, even with doing that extensive workup, they still don’t figure out what is causing it. No matter the cause, the treatment is the same. The tests she was talking about were $1200-1800. What did I want to do? Fuck. That’s one of those moments in dog ownership where you think the person talking to you is going to think you’re a dickhole. Luckily before I left the other clinic Dr. Gilbert had talked to me about this a bit and said that in her opinion the whole workup wasn’t necessary b/c the treatment really didn’t depend on the cause. So I said no to the full workup, and she said that she wanted to keep him there while they waited for the bloodwork results that Dr. Gilbert was running. I asked if they would be treating him during that time, or just observing him. She said just observing him. I told her that I would observe him at home then, until the results came back, that I preferred him to be with me if possible. She said there was a chance that he would need a blood or plasma transfusion if he’d been poisoned, and he’d have to come back to the hospital for that. If it wasn’t poison the treatment was long-term steroids, antibiotics and vitamins to get him stable and get his body to stop attacking itself. She said the survival rate for dogs with this condition was 50%, even with treatment, though she said she was very encouraged by how he was still eating. Jake was still staring at us, wagging his tail and acting like he felt fine. We determined that if it was IMT I could pick up the necessary drugs at the original vet (much closer to me) and I went home to wait for her phone call. She told me to keep him from moving much and/or further bruising himself. I tucked him in the baby sling and carried him around with me all day long.

Dr. Greer called around 2 or so, saying that he was not poisoned, he did have IMT and that I should give it about an hour and then go pick up meds for him at the original vet. I asked her if it was OK to leave him alone while I ran that errand and she said yes. Then the Dr. Gilbert called. She said Jake’s blood counts were “off the charts” and that Dr. Greer (who I’d just talked to) had told Dr. Gilbert that he needed a plasma transfusion. What? She didn’t say that to me. Dr. Gilbert said that his blood was not clotting at all, and that he had a much better chance with a transfusion and and overnight stay with Dr. Greer. She said that Dr. Greer said I refused to leave him with her. What? I never said that. I said I preferred to keep him with me until the diagnosis was finalized. I told Dr. Gilbert that, and what Dr. Greer had told me about him being fine to leave alone, which didn’t fit with Dr. Gilbert’s assertiont that he was about to drop dead of spontaneous bleeding any second.

Dr. Gilbert called Dr. Greer back, then called me back, acting as if I was trying to not treat Jake well. She said that he was going to continue to deteriorate without the treatment, that he had only a 10% chance of survival without the plasma. She acted like I was saying I wasn’t going to treat him at all - and all I wanted to know what was the fuck everyone was talking about, since they couldn’t get their stories straight. I said fine, I was taking him back to VSS if that was the case, and I did. They kept him overnight and transfused him with plasma. We’re actually very lucky that there was a facility with this capability here in the St. Louis area. The info I read about IMT recommended a plasma transfusion,  but said it was rarely possible for financial and practical reasons.

I left him there Thursday afternoon, and they called me on Friday morning to say that he was responding very well to the treatment and was eating, acting like he felt well. I could pick him up at 4 p.m.

I did, and he looks good. Acts like he feels well. He’s on 4 medications, prednisone, doxycylcine (sp?) Vitamin K and Pepcid AC because the other ones may make him barfy. He has to go in early next week for blood work, I have to watch him for bruising, petechia, bleeding from any orifice, lethargy or vomiting. He’s going to be hungry, drinking a lot of water and peeing more in the house probably. I can deal with that.

The original bloodwork he had at the vet was $168. Seeing the emergency vet was $95. The overnight stay with plasma transfusion was $498. I had to go to three different pharmacies last night to fill his Vitamin K prescription, and a two-week supply of the pills was $80. I don’t know if I will have to refill those or not, or if I can get them cheaper somewhere. I don’t know what the rest of this bloodwork is going to cost in the upcoming weeks. Obviously I would pay all this and more, gladly, to make him better, but this does mean my Christmas vacation with Todd is now canceled. No biggie. I am gladder than I can tell you that I had the money to spend, I can’t imagine what it would have been like to have to refuse something he needed because I couldn’t afford it.

So that’s what happened, leaving out for the most part how I felt about it. Well, you can imagine. I cried so hard I was sick. I cried so hard that I had scabs under my eyes because the skin got so raw. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t breathe without him. I can’t imagine the cruelty of taking him away from me, and I didn’t realize what this house would feel like with him not in it. He’s the goofiest, most joyous thing I come in regular contact with, and his pure glee at being able to run around and follow my every move with his big googly eyeballs is contagious. You can’t be as unhappy as my soul wants to be when Jake is around. The thought of anything bad happening to his innocent little body was devastating. I think it broke another part of me that couldn’t really afford to become any more fucked up. I feel drained, I feel dead inside, I feel raw and exposed and terrified and anxious. I still don’t know if he’s going to live. I still don’t know what caused this. So for now my entire being is holding its breath, pretending to be alive while we wait to see if we survive this.

The Jake Chronicles

More on Jakester later, you can check my twitter feed for the ongoing saga until I have time to write it up properly.

But tonight, when something’s really wrong with him, and when the house is stripped of all of its joy, that’s when you know what it means to have something really wrong in your personal world. And preparing yourself for it, being cynical and fatalistic and pessimistic – that doesn’t help.

You’re no better prepared to dodge the pain when it comes by refusing to feel the joy when it’s here.

For two years now, every single time I get home I open the door and start counting. One… two… three furry butts come to greet me. I watch them rush out into the yard all together, and if one is delayed or takes longer (for instance Princesses B and C like to sleep on the second floor sometimes, and take a while to hear me get back.) I immediately start thinking they’re dead somewhere. They’re hurt, injured, sick, they’re dying. I just know that today’s the day the dream ends, the luck runs out, the happiness goes away. Every single time I come home, I count.

And tonight I dropped Jake off at the hospital and I came home and opened the door and I counted. And only two came. And it broke my heart.

We’re some cranky old bitches around here. Bruiser wants warm laps, warm blankets and to be left alone. Chelsea wants to be invisible, skulking in the corners, easily startled, flees when you look at her too long. I am a notoriously cranky, misanthropic, unhappy wretch. The only one of us around here with a decent personality is lovable, happy-go-lucky old Jake. Not a care in the world Jake, “Why you growling at me when I stand on your head? Don’t you want your head stood on?” Jake. Watching his furry, bouncy little booty navigate the stairs in the morning… his pure excitement to be awake and alive and GOING OUTSIDE and GETTING TO EAT, it’s infectious. I need him. We all three need him, but I need him most. I need him to be OK.

And even though I’ve been thinking that my cranky refusal to be happy was going to be protection once it came time to feel sad, I am finding it’s woefully inadequate, because I am shattered. Please send good thoughts our  way.

What Priceless Peace

Busy day today. After an unexpected but very welcome full eight hours of sleep, I got a late start to errand running. Home Goods and TJ Maxx followed by Target and Beauty Brands, with a break in the middle for an apartment-warming at Dave’s new place. (Which, BTW, is heated with an oil furnace. Who ever heard of that? Has to have oil delivered. So strange to me.) It was a beautiful day, and I had every intention of joining MyTodd™ at Colleen’s CD release party tonight, but I got home around 6:30 and promptly had an exhaustion attack. It was so cozy here in the house, and getting dressed and tolerating strangers seemed like way more than I could deal with. So I decided to stay home.

Senor Crazypants Observes His Domain

I was catching up on Tivo and watched last night’s Dog Whisperer. I have to say that I have such a life-energy crush in Cesar Milan. I understand why dogs respond to him, because *I* want to go sit next to him, every time I see him. He makes such good sense, and he has such an appealing, no-nonsense way of being. It makes me feel positive and capable, watching him. So I was curled up on the couch watching a young couple deal with a really tense and aggressive dog, and I looked down gratefully at my own little pack. Bruiser on my right, Chelsea on my left, Jake in the middle – they were all curled up against me, dozing peacefully. It’s the most chilled-out feeling you can imagine, all three of them snuggled under a blanket with me. And I thought how lucky I was, to have them for companions. Though they aren’t perfect, and I am not perfect with them, we’re generally a happy, balanced pack. A lot of that I can attribute to watching The Dog Whisperer, and following his advice. Bruiser was always such a good dog, I never had to correct her much. But with Jake’s exuberance and Chelsea’s deathly anxiety, I am really grateful that when I looked for resources to help them I was able to find Cesar.

Though I mostly bitch and moan about their craziness (and their continued insistence that the carpet is for peeing on) I can’t imagine what I would be like without them. If I didn’t have them to care for, and snuggle with, and make me smile and make me get up in the morning, I think… no I know things would be a lot worse for me, mentally. So here’s to experiencing peace and contentment, and recognizing it when you do. It’s not often that I can really sit still and appreciate the wonderful things in my life, but I am right now.

Put that in the positivity bank, universe, I know I am running a deficit.

Yin-Yang Dogs All in Brown

The ways they contort, and methods they use to keep their noses warm, always amuse me.

This one’s a little fuzzy, I know, but I still thought it was cute.

Protected: The Latest Techniques in Chihuahua Wrangling

Investments

Good thing I went ahead and invested in that carpet steamer. Madame Chelsea must have eaten something that didn’t agree with her, as she demonstrated out both ends all over the office carpet. Bless her heart, but that’s challenging.

And of course all I can think is that the GIANT ASS SPIDER in my garden might have bitten her, or that she might have eaten some foliage that was sprayed with the chemicals I used to destroy that fracking thing. This is why I would make shitty mother, because my head doesn’t go to “ate something that disagreed with her” but more to “poison spider bites” and “ingestion of toxic chemicals” and the resultant neurological damage. I was also listening to her chest to see if she might have a collapsed lung or narrowed airway. Whatever. At least I know these things about myself.

In other news, as my very clean bathroom and almost-done laundry can attest, I’ve been very householdy. I also wrote 1300+ words at this silly SLU coffeeshop and hung out with friends while doing so, giving me a total Lifescore of 3/4 today! So yay me.

I am really grooving on this whole “silently hanging out and communally working on our own projects” thing at various local coffeehouses. MyTodd™ was doing homework, another friend was blogging and another was doing something with her photos online. It’s fun. We shoot each other weird and funny weblinks from time to time, but by and large we just work. I get a ton done because that’s what I am there for, and would feel like a slacker if I didn’t do something. Plus I don’t have to worry that maybe I should be doing something different, because I am already doing two things at once, and that’s enough even for me to calm down about it.

I am going to ix-nay that coffeehouse in the future though, because their chairs were uncomfortable, their WiFi served up ads, their food was overpriced and they were crawling with SLU students.

OK that’s all, I am headed for shower and bath time, then joy of all joys… WORK tomorrow.

Why we love them

Dogs. We love them in part because they have no dignity.

Yes, yes.

Yes, yes. I have two chew toys and she has none. Your point being?

Truthfully, I do not like the way you are looking at my chew toys. Please avert your eyes so that I may rest next to them.

If I can’t have you…

…r bone, I don’t want nobody’s bone, bay-beh!

3 out of 4, so far

So trying to meet goals for the day. Three out of four isn’t bad, I think.

1. Household. I did the laundry and carried the vacuum cleaner down two flights of stairs to give the downstairs rug a good hoovering.

2. Exercise. I took Jakester over to Lafayette Square Park and walked around for half an hour. He’s totally petrified of everything, and horrible to walk with. I might make myself walk him more by focusing on the benefit for him, getting more socialized. I may take la Chelseapants next time though, she seems to walk better than the other two.

3. Social Stuffs. This one is harder for me, especially during the week. But after our walk I drove Jake over to Todd’s house, on the off chance that he’d be back from his class. He was! WIN! So I chatted with him for awhile about our respective first days of school, and updated his iTunes so that he could buy movies.

4. Creative. Hrms. Nothing so far. And now I am really only wanting to take a shower, finish the laundry and go to bed. But maybe I will think of something?

5. Spending large amounts of money. My laptop was indeed on the verge of failure. When I talked to the IT guy at work he told me that I needed to get my stuff off of it, sooner rather than later. So I bought a new laptop. Well. I ordered a new laptop, which doesn’t relieve my buyers remorse the way it would if I could have brought it home with me today. But overall it was a really good buy. It’s a Sony Vaio, and it blows my old laptop out of the water as far as RAM and HD capacity, plus it’s lighter, with a larger screen. And… it’s pink. I know! But seriously, it’s also a good laptop for my needs, in addition to being pink! I checked! It’s a model that’s on its way out for them, so it was discounted in price, then I found it at newegg $150 or so cheaper than MSRP, then I found it on Best Buy’s website $100 cheaper than THAT even! So, I practically made a profit.

My “nervous about spending money” threshold is around $200 or so, anything over that and I start to triple-guess myself. So this makes me angsty. But I am sure that will all go away once I have it. I had it shipped to work (less chance of it getting delivered to my neighbor, who I am still dodging quite well.) and I really hope it will come before the weekend. My only decision still to be made is whether I am going to wipe Vista off of it when it gets here and install XP. I feel like I would rather, since I use XP on my desktop and at work, and plus I don’t want to be the person with Vista, because I hate it without trying it like all good Intertubes dwellers should.

Anwyay, that’s my day today. Now, off to be creative…

Two Adjectives

Those that come immediately to mind are “anxious” and “handitarded”

Do Not Anger la Chelsea

She WILL eat the eyeballs right out of your head.

She will NOT feel badly afterward.

3 Reasons I Don’t Want to Come to Work

Wall-Eyes

Todd was creeped out tonight by Jake’s tendency to sleep in zombie-mode. I have to admit, even I had to look and make sure he was still breathing – there’s a lot of eye white going on there.

Our flash photography woke him up though.