Not been the best of times lately. Thought I'd share....
Got home around teatime on Wed 11th, after 3 long days working in our Nation's capital.
After around an hour of home comfort Meg (Join Meg's Facebook here) started what can only be described as fitting. We quickly bundled her into the back of the car and rushed straight to the local vet. Two syringes of meds later and she was no better. Throwing herself around, but completely off her back legs. Scared doesn't begin to describe it!
Those that know Meg, know we've had her around 5 months and that she's a rescue dog that was found abandoned. We have no idea of her history.
The vets decided there was nothing more they could do there and referred us to a larger vets in Wolverhampton. Back in the car Meg went, and off we sped.
Carrying her into the new vets I saw blood all over her front paws, legs and mouth. Turns out she'd bitten her tongue during the car ride. I was not having a good time. But then, I guess neither was she!
They gave her a different lot of meds to no avail and finally decided on pumping her full of anaesthetic to at least settle her. We were told that she would either wake from the anaesthetic fine or, well, it would be bad.
By this time it was late, we had no choice but to kiss her goodbye and go home and wait.
This may make me a hypocrite, but I prayed that night! You never know, right!?!
After a few calls throughout the night and morning, Jane couldn't stand it so we headed off to the vets to see our baby. Because it was their busy period, operations, etc, we couldn't get into the back to see her but were told she was still sedated, but not well. And could we come back later?
Talk about a long day! Throughout that day, we cried, we talked, we cried some more and I think we both tried to prepare ourselves for the worst.
Early evening came and we headed back to the vets.
We were lead thru to the kennels where we were told there was no real improvement and that we had decisions to make. This is the news that no pet owner wants to hear. Queue more crying!
Thing is, when we got there, Meg recognised us and seemed, well, just calm and a bit sleepy. A millions miles from the pooch that was slamming it's head against a radiator the night before.
Jane wanted to bring her home there and then. I was against it as I was worried about her fitting again and us having to get her back to the vets via a stressful car journey (for Meg, not us). All the time the impending decision was in our heads. It seemed wrong tho. She seemed happy, and certainly not distressed. If I'm honest, there were moments when I just assumed the vets must be right and maybe it would be cruel to let Meg continue to suffer. But if I'm even more honest, my head was so fucked up I didn't know what to think.
After much soul searching and even more crying it was agreed by us and the vet that we would give Meg one more night, with no medication other than a saline drip, and see how she faired. We had to give her that chance. They promised they would only give her meds if she fitted, and that they would call us immediately if that happened. After about an hour of us sat on the floor with Meg's head on Jane's lap, and more crying, we finally headed home. What more could we do?
We called the vets pretty much every 90 mins throughout the night and were told each time she seemed calm. I know Jane was getting her hopes up. In truth, I wanted to but was scared to.
Final call was around 6:30am. We were told that as long as Meg was still "okay" when the vets did their rounds at 9am, there was no medical reason why she couldn't come home. It was at this point I let myself start to feel positive.
They called just after 9, and it was the best news in the world. Meg could come home. We were told she was wobbly, walked like she was drunk, and had a few problems with slow reactions. None of this mattered. She was coming home! We jumped pretty much straight in the car!
On collecting her, her back was all arched and she really wasn't walking well. But she was pleased to see us and we were pleased as hell to see her!
We were told that she had suffered brain damage during, or as a result of, the seizure. Both frontal and rear. But.... She was still with us and was going home! Well, once we'd seen the vets bill and picked up a bag of 3 different types of meds. One of which she'll be on for pretty much ever.
We got her home and preceded to pamper her! She tried to climb the stairs, but because her back was all arched she literally toppled backwards as she tried. Half funny, half sad. But second time around she managed to get upstairs with a helping hand under her belly. Took her for a short walk and she looked really weird the way she walked. She also kept falling over. Her co-ordination was shot to pieces.
Over the next few days tho, she really improved. Her back straightened out and she fell over less. She started getting up and down the stairs on her own, and generally just seemed to be getting better.
It's been 10 days now, and you'd pretty much not be able to tell there's ever been a problem. Yeah, she still runs funny sometimes, isn't so good at catching the ball and is still not going on massive walks. But she's happy, eating and drinking well, and is back to farting loads. It's all good :-)