For some reason I am unable to leave responses to comments about Chase. And so much has happened since his seizure several days ago that I've decided to post again.
The news is not good. Until last night when we essentially knocked him out with 510 mg of phenobarbital and I can't even count how many milligrams of his regular anti seizure medication-all this after the emergency Valium did not stop his pacing, anxiety, sudden 'spikes' that caused him to jump up and pace as if he'd been hit in the head.
This has been exhausting and heartbreaking. I have stayed up with Chase all night for the past two nights and finally this morning he is lying down and resting, but he is so drugged he splays when he tries to walk.
JB and I knew that Chase had seizures and an ankle injury when we adopted him now two months ago. No regret, we feel good about offering family and love to this sweet dog in need, much as we did Stella, who gave us so much back. Two months ago we didn't know what we now know: Chase likely has a closed head injury. That probably happened during a collision on the racetrack, perhaps when his ankle was broken as well. Both vets involved and helping us have now mentioned 'quality of life' issues and we know what that means. This sweet dog also has an rear foot that he often lifts and that prevents him from running and playing without consequence the next day. Maybe he and we can work around that. But if these seizures cannot be controlled, coming once a month and lasting for several painful days with all these partial seizures, that is something JB and I will have to face. I'm not sure at all that she and I could handle that and I am sure that we cannot let Chase suffer like this.
Yesterday JB fell. Her ankle is swollen the size of a grapefruit and we are looking at one another in stunned disbelief. I should mention we have also had news of a close family member (not my Mom) who is very ill, unexpected and in its own way tragic. Combined, this is also called a two by four to the head.
What a week. I know I have to squeeze in enough sleep so I don't get sick. I know we are going to stay with Chase totally until we are due back to work on Tuesday. I know we pray this round of seizures has been resolved, that we pray the new anti-seizure med works and we are not on eggshells a month from now. I pray that Chase does not suffer, whatever that means. It has been agonizing to witness his distress. Is this the story: this dog is in a major collision at a West Virgina racetrack, he sustains a closed head injury with seizures and a broken ankle that is never treated and he is rescued rather than euthanized and now he has been adopted by two women who didn't know the extent of his struggles and it is not certain his struggles can be helped?
Where is the fault here? The first line of fire: a dog who is a commodity to a corporation that owns hundreds and thousands of greyhound racers. But what about the next piece? The Neurologist in Boston said yesterday, "I don't believe in adoption for dogs with epilepsy like this. They end up suffering."
Should we blame the rescuers, clearly well meaning and the carriers of good works? Should JB and I have been more prudent in understanding the whole picture--we, who suffered ourselves helping Stella die last December?
And now: we love Chase and his hardship pains us. Thankfully we can and will get him through this. I told JB yesterday, at a moment of feeling totally overwhelmed: "We have to look at this as a privilege. We will help him and he won't be alone no matter what. We can do that."We both nodded.
I have this way of prettying up adversity. But isn't it true that this is a privilege?
I'll keep updating my blog about Chase. For now I won't be able to respond to your comments but I sure as hell appreciate every one.