And so, $100 later...
Yesterday, I happen to look over at the dog. She is lying on her side next to the sliding glass door and she is rolling a bit and nosing against the basket I have next to the door. I get up, saying "What's the matter, Lucy? Got a itchy nose?" and give her snout a good rub. But she still keeps moving and I realize that she seems like she is almost...having a fit? My heart nearly stops.
I pick her up and set her on her feet. She nearly topples over. Oh shit. Then suddenly, she tried to dash across the room, but only manages to stagger drunkenly before keeling right over. She gamely keeps trying to get up and promptly falls down again. Now, in full-blown panic mode, I call to Grant "I think Lucy may have had a stroke!" I pick her up and hold her, hoping that when I put her down whatever is happening will stop happening. I pet her. She seems calm. I set her on her feet. She tries to take off down the hall, once again staggering like a drunken sailor until her hindquarters seem to give out underneath her. Grant picks her up and holds her while I dial the emergency vet. I hold Lucy on my lap as we drive. I wonder if it the last day I will hold her.
I don't actually start to cry until after the vet's receptionist takes my dog away from me and asks me to wait until the vet is available. My dog is somewhere in the back of the office and they WON'T LET ME BE WITH HER! I wait, as does Grant. We don't even look at each other, because we can't bear to share the thought we are both thinking.
The vet, finally, invites us in. Lucy is walking around the small examining room, still tilting slightly to the right, but very nearly normal again. And the vet has a smile on her face. Apparently Lucy has most likely suffered an attack of Idiopathic Geriatic Vestibular Syndrome. Symptoms? Pretty much walking like a drunken sailor.
No shit.
The vet tells us that unlike most of her visits on a weekend, this was a good visit. The symptoms may return, but it is nothing to be worried about. We just need to keep her safe from stairs and the like, so she doesn't accidentally fall down them if she has another attack.
Today she is back to her same old self. We are $100 poorer and much relieved.
I pick her up and set her on her feet. She nearly topples over. Oh shit. Then suddenly, she tried to dash across the room, but only manages to stagger drunkenly before keeling right over. She gamely keeps trying to get up and promptly falls down again. Now, in full-blown panic mode, I call to Grant "I think Lucy may have had a stroke!" I pick her up and hold her, hoping that when I put her down whatever is happening will stop happening. I pet her. She seems calm. I set her on her feet. She tries to take off down the hall, once again staggering like a drunken sailor until her hindquarters seem to give out underneath her. Grant picks her up and holds her while I dial the emergency vet. I hold Lucy on my lap as we drive. I wonder if it the last day I will hold her.
I don't actually start to cry until after the vet's receptionist takes my dog away from me and asks me to wait until the vet is available. My dog is somewhere in the back of the office and they WON'T LET ME BE WITH HER! I wait, as does Grant. We don't even look at each other, because we can't bear to share the thought we are both thinking.
The vet, finally, invites us in. Lucy is walking around the small examining room, still tilting slightly to the right, but very nearly normal again. And the vet has a smile on her face. Apparently Lucy has most likely suffered an attack of Idiopathic Geriatic Vestibular Syndrome. Symptoms? Pretty much walking like a drunken sailor.
Signs of vestibular disease include ataxia, head tilt, and abnormal nystagmus. A wide-based stance and swaying of the head and trunk characterize ataxia. The patient may tend to lean and fall to one side. In severe cases, the animal may continuously roll to one side. Head tilt is an abnormal position of the head such that one ear is held lower than the other. Nystagmus is a rhythmic movement of the eyes, where the eyes move back and forth or up and down. In some cases of vestibular disease, there is a sudden onset of severe signs. This may initially be confused with a seizure.
No shit.
The vet tells us that unlike most of her visits on a weekend, this was a good visit. The symptoms may return, but it is nothing to be worried about. We just need to keep her safe from stairs and the like, so she doesn't accidentally fall down them if she has another attack.
Today she is back to her same old self. We are $100 poorer and much relieved.
9 Comments:
I'm so glad this story had a happy ending!
How scary!! I'm glad she's ok. I witnessed my cat having a seizure once, and it was such a scary thing. And I'd by happy to spend the $100 to hear that it's nothing to be worried about!
Both Zoe and Roo have this, and I know that there is nothing more terrifying than seeing this and not knowing yet what it is. I am happy that Lucy recovered so quickly. *hugs*
Wow, that sounds terrifying! I'm glad she's OK now, though.
Whew. I know how you feel. The morning we were leaving for my brother's house for Thanksgiving, Mike came in the bedroom and I heard him say, Oh God, I think Curly is dead. Shit. As it turns out, she was just very sound asleep so that she didn't even respond when he touched her. Fortunately, he found her pulse and then she roused up. It probably doesn't help much that she's deaf either. Anyway, like you, in those few seconds, the tears had already started. I suppose it's the price of having beloved but aged pets.
I'm glad Lucy is still among us.
BTW, I was probably less than 3 hours away from you at Thanksgiving. My bro lives in Port Huron. We were minutes from the bridge.
That's absolutely terrifying. I am so relieved that your pup is alright, strange drunken sailer syndrome aside. *hugs*
Wow! I'm glad she's okay.
Sighs of relief all round!
This comment scared the shit out of me! WHEW! I'm glad she's okay!
Post a Comment
<< Home