The Thoughts of a Frumpy Professor

............................................ ............................................ A blog devoted to the ramblings of a small town, middle aged college professor as he experiences life and all its strange variances.

Thursday, April 18, 2024

Histronic


 

Yesterday, at about 5:30am, my wife and I were in bed and my wife was petting our dog and gently touched her hind quarter region of her leg when our dog emitted the most horrendous scream and jumped off the bed and her whole hind quarters were shaking.  She ran into her crate (which she does not use, except for when there are storms).  She did not want to come out.

The veterinarian opened at 8:00am, and I knew that they had other workers who usually showed up to care for overnight patients beginning ~7:30am.  My wife and I were terribly worried and I was literally hysterical in worry, grief and anxiety.  

While I was getting dressed quickly (in work clothes to teach), I was crying deep, guttural sobs of fear and worry.  "What if the veterinarian says she needs to be euthanized???" I was hysterical from fear.  I was panicked about trying to get her into my vehicle, and did not want to move her.  I carried her, in her crate The crate is ~36 in X 24 in x 24 in (~90 cm x 60 cm x 60cm) and our dog weighs ~ 35 pounds (~16 kg), so the whole contraption and our dog would weigh ~50 pounds (~23 kg).  I was terrified and carried her in the crate downstairs and out into my vehicle.  I cried the whole way.

I got there at 7:30am and phoned inside to the Veterinary Office.  A worker answered.  I explained.  Eventually I was able to bring her in (crate and all) and sit in an exam room with her by 7:50am.  Now, just to wait until the veterinarian arrived.  

When she eventually arrived, my dog had worked herself into her normal "frenzy" of being at the veterinarian.  She was barking and excited and exuberant.   The veterinarian knows her and her breed (mostly a Wheaton Terrier).  She said the adrenalin rush our dog experiences about the excitement of being at the vet masks her symptoms (meaning that she knew and understood I was not making up the worry/terror I felt as I explained what had happened).  She slowly palpated our dog, trying to see what hurt.... nothing from spinal massage, nothing from leg manipulation and distension.  Nothing.  Yet, when our dog was not bounding around she would visibly shake in her hindquarters showing that SOMETHING was still going on.  The veterinarian saw this too.  

The veterinarian gave her a anti-inflammatory/pain injection and gave me oral versions of this medicine to administer each morning.  If it does not resolve, the next step is to x-ray her, but that requires anesthesia so we are trying to avoid that.  

Our dog was somewhat groggy and listless last evening, but not trembling.  She seemed "better" to some degree.  This morning, she seemed "close" to her usual self.  But I am still filled with dread.  I am still worrying about the "last shoe to drop".  I am having a very hard time.  Yesterday, I was non-stop in action.  The moment I was discharged from the vet, I had to rush home, make our dog comfortable, and then rush at high speed to get the U to just barely get to my first class of the day.  In the brief, 1-hour break I had mid-day, where I normally grade and do other work and research, I instead high-tailed it home to check on the dog and to let her go to the bathroom in case the medication increased her need to "potty".  Then I raced back to get to my next class. Then it was non-stop work through 6pm.  

I slept fitfully last night, mostly listening for how our dog was sleeping and behaving.  I am exhausted today.  I am still filled to the brim with anxiety and feelings of panic.  I am trying my best to calm down and trying to keep focused that at least on the surface, things have stabilized and may be improving.... though my mind is spinning/churning out thoughts about what I should do what I should be observing, and ultimately searching for anything I may be missing.  I am still feeling fearful that this is not actually fixed or resolved.  I worry, because she is 11 years old, and I know she is elderly.  It hurts my heart so to imagine her death.

I did not run yesterday.  I did not run today.  This may be the first week I fail at my weekly mileage in over 4.5 years.  Right now I don't give a sh*t. 

I am scared, I am exhausted, I am about ready to collapse.  Yet, I have to figure out how to do the damnable day's work today.  I do not have the option to cancel classes, it is too close to the end of the semester.  I cannot cancel research meetings, we have presentations forthcoming.  

PipeTobacco  

3 Comments:

Blogger Margaret said...

Oh, I'm so sorry for the stress and worry! I hope your dear dog continues to improve. I hope I don't sound heartless when I say to try to enjoy your time with her without looking too far ahead. Take each moment and day as the treasure it is.

Thursday, 18 April, 2024  
Blogger Pat M. said...

Professor, have you flown on an airplane anytime recently? You may recall the flight attendant's reminder that if the oxygen masks drop down, you need to put [b]YOUR OWN MASK/b] over your nose before helping those at your side. You need to take care of your own basic needs, otherwise you will be in no condition to help anyone else.

It is laudable to see how you routinely are thinking of the welfare of those under your care, whether canine or human. But PLEASE don't stop taking care of yourself because you feel overwhelmed over others' suffering. Running those miles may feel like a damnable chore when you're depressed, but you know that completing those miles can actually help you feel LESS depression.

And the same holds true with other aspects of self-care, whether it means taking the time to fix yourself a healthfully indulgent salad, allowing yourself a pipe or two, finding a way to go swimming on a busy day, tending to your research, etc. Do the stuff that makes you the best you that you can be.

Dogs can sense their owners' mood. One of the best things you can do for your beloved pet is to take care of your own mood as you try to take care of his mysterious malady.

And Margaret is 100% correct -- take each moment as a gift and a treasure, and make the most of it. Dogs and other loved ones die, and the best we can do is to be fully present for them while they are alive. Be the best you that you can be, and that will help you be the best for your dog, your wife, your MIL and SIL, and even the one who must not be named. Take care of yourself, Professor!

Thursday, 18 April, 2024  
Blogger Anvilcloud said...

You poor guy and your poor dog. That was yesterday. I wonder how today is going. It's odd bc I don't think it had ever sunk in that you have a dog and then that you cared so much. I guess dog is just something that you haven't blogged about or that I haven't really noticed. One or t'other.

Friday, 19 April, 2024  

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