Given a chance and a million to go
Jan. 5th, 2009 12:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
foalstoryAlmost ....
Back at the vet clinic in Utah, we worked to get the heart meds he needed (human meds but needed to be compounded in quantities for a horse). Wraps were changed daily (the 4th leg finally blew and filled up with edema while in Idaho, so all 4 were wrapped).
Christmas? I had the day off and was either sleeping, researching online, or visiting Ally. There was such hope from both the vets involved, although by now the entire clinic (and the other vets) all knew me and Ally and helped out whenever needed. Christmas had never been much of a 'day' for me but this officially .... changed it. I've never had a holiday mean so little to me other than the fact I needed kitty litter at 10pm the night before and couldn't park the dually at my apartment complex (too big!) so returned it at 11pm on Chistmas eve.
Religious? no. Else perhaps i'd have been in a chapel somewhere to go escape and pray and believe in something higher.
What DID I believe in? modern medicine and Ally's own will power. HE had not given up yet, how the hell was I to give up on him? No, I had no idea how $100 a week medication would affect me in the long run but I wasn't thinking that far in advance. I would find ways, I had before.
Mostly, I hung out with Ally, treasuring the time I had while feeling totally helpless and useless. It was too cold to unblanket him and brush him -- plus it was no longer a 'fun' thing to do with the way he looked. The Edema was taking on a life of its own, like a parasite sucking the marrow from his bones. I could hug him and say goodbye every time I left, since we didn't know if his heart would make it through the night, or the afternoon or ... whatever was next. I would visit at 10pm, at 4am, at 2pm, whenever I could stand it, emotionally. Sometimes the visits were short, as they would emotionally drain me to nothing before I had to go home and rest.
I went back to work (only took the day off for the drive to Idaho) although I could not tell you a single thing I did other than wait and take off early (and come in late) between visits to the vet clinic.
A few days after back from Idaho, Ally started going downhill again. We debated and then tapped him again. 15-17 liters of fluid AGAIN drained, so the infection was still ragging like crazy.
Ally needed time for the meds to do their job, I needed sanity (I'm really not sure what happened during this time, but I did what I had to do and I knew there was no other choice), and we did what we could to give it to him.
In the midst of this, the one grace was my parents. They actually understood why I was doing what I was doing -- although I had left out the details of the harrowing Idaho trip. A year earlier my elderly cat (who stayed with them) had to be put down and they had done what they could for her until she gave up and it was time. I was doing the same thing and with something that WAS treatable, why not give it a go?
okok, so the success rates weren't high, but this combination of heart failure and pneumonia typically showed up in racehorses where the owners were more focused on the bottom line and early euthanasia was common to save costs.
And in case anyone is wondering: no. the vets in no way pressured or influenced me or any of my decisions. I'm a smart ass around vets, questioning their statements, their assumptions, making them back up their assertions, etc. They quickly figure out to treat me closer to an equal (at least don't talk down to me) and lay out the facts, letting me decide on the path. I had full support and Dr. Hammer was almost gleeful to finally be able to TREAT one of these horses instead of having to euthanize them so early, too soon in his mind.
So we drained fluid again and Ally perked up - amazing! Eating again, more interest in life and all together refreshed.
This time though, it didn't last as long. By new year's eve I knew there wasn't much hope. By new years day I knew it was going to be soon - on January second we knew draining the fluid a third time was only risking a secondary infection and falling into a pattern from which there was no recovery. We both agreed and I went to bed that night knowing the next day I was going to kill my horse.
Back at the vet clinic in Utah, we worked to get the heart meds he needed (human meds but needed to be compounded in quantities for a horse). Wraps were changed daily (the 4th leg finally blew and filled up with edema while in Idaho, so all 4 were wrapped).
Christmas? I had the day off and was either sleeping, researching online, or visiting Ally. There was such hope from both the vets involved, although by now the entire clinic (and the other vets) all knew me and Ally and helped out whenever needed. Christmas had never been much of a 'day' for me but this officially .... changed it. I've never had a holiday mean so little to me other than the fact I needed kitty litter at 10pm the night before and couldn't park the dually at my apartment complex (too big!) so returned it at 11pm on Chistmas eve.
Religious? no. Else perhaps i'd have been in a chapel somewhere to go escape and pray and believe in something higher.
What DID I believe in? modern medicine and Ally's own will power. HE had not given up yet, how the hell was I to give up on him? No, I had no idea how $100 a week medication would affect me in the long run but I wasn't thinking that far in advance. I would find ways, I had before.
Mostly, I hung out with Ally, treasuring the time I had while feeling totally helpless and useless. It was too cold to unblanket him and brush him -- plus it was no longer a 'fun' thing to do with the way he looked. The Edema was taking on a life of its own, like a parasite sucking the marrow from his bones. I could hug him and say goodbye every time I left, since we didn't know if his heart would make it through the night, or the afternoon or ... whatever was next. I would visit at 10pm, at 4am, at 2pm, whenever I could stand it, emotionally. Sometimes the visits were short, as they would emotionally drain me to nothing before I had to go home and rest.
I went back to work (only took the day off for the drive to Idaho) although I could not tell you a single thing I did other than wait and take off early (and come in late) between visits to the vet clinic.
A few days after back from Idaho, Ally started going downhill again. We debated and then tapped him again. 15-17 liters of fluid AGAIN drained, so the infection was still ragging like crazy.
Ally needed time for the meds to do their job, I needed sanity (I'm really not sure what happened during this time, but I did what I had to do and I knew there was no other choice), and we did what we could to give it to him.
In the midst of this, the one grace was my parents. They actually understood why I was doing what I was doing -- although I had left out the details of the harrowing Idaho trip. A year earlier my elderly cat (who stayed with them) had to be put down and they had done what they could for her until she gave up and it was time. I was doing the same thing and with something that WAS treatable, why not give it a go?
okok, so the success rates weren't high, but this combination of heart failure and pneumonia typically showed up in racehorses where the owners were more focused on the bottom line and early euthanasia was common to save costs.
And in case anyone is wondering: no. the vets in no way pressured or influenced me or any of my decisions. I'm a smart ass around vets, questioning their statements, their assumptions, making them back up their assertions, etc. They quickly figure out to treat me closer to an equal (at least don't talk down to me) and lay out the facts, letting me decide on the path. I had full support and Dr. Hammer was almost gleeful to finally be able to TREAT one of these horses instead of having to euthanize them so early, too soon in his mind.
So we drained fluid again and Ally perked up - amazing! Eating again, more interest in life and all together refreshed.
This time though, it didn't last as long. By new year's eve I knew there wasn't much hope. By new years day I knew it was going to be soon - on January second we knew draining the fluid a third time was only risking a secondary infection and falling into a pattern from which there was no recovery. We both agreed and I went to bed that night knowing the next day I was going to kill my horse.
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Date: 2009-01-06 06:56 pm (UTC)