Ah, the celebration of my birth.
But I don’t feel like celebrating.
Our dog’s condition has shocked us. He’s slowed down considerably.
Last Wednesday evening, I took him for bloodwork. He ended up getting an abdominal tap because his stomach was so distended. Essentially, what happened was that fluid accumulates in his abdomen, making him quite uncomfortable. The abdominal tap is a procedure that a needle is inserted to drain the fluid. All in all, two liters of fluid was drained.
They bandaged him up and we were able to go. We followed their instructions on removal of the bandage, yet he still was leaking fluid. So on Friday night I took him back to get rebandaged. This time, we left it on all weekend, and it seems like the draining has stopped. That’s great news.
However, our dog’s internist has prescribed yet another new medication, thereby tweaking Jackpot’s regimen again. Husband went out to get it filled and found it that most places do not have it in stock. That’s never a good sign – and sure enough when I heard some price quotes I nearly fell over. It was beyond what we ever thought it would be, price-wise. Additionally, there is no guarantee that this medicine will work.
This is when we have to face the horrible, tragic truth. That, at some point, this is it. It’s clear that we have done far and beyond taking care of our beloved pooch for the past three years.
Jackpot is moving a lot slower. He’s not really eating. He’s having extreme difficulty jumping up into the car or onto the bed. The diarrhea is constant. It cannot be good for him. But he seems content laying on our couch and dozing.
Cripes. Such a hard thing to go through. A lot of tears have been shed in the past few days. Every single movement by the dog is being analyzed – both good and bad. I’m creating my own social stories to help me understand. This is not easy but we have to think about what is good for Jackpot. I don’t want him to suffer.
Anyway, it’s my birthday and I can cry if I want to.