Terii’s Cycling Babble


Please Let It Be The LAST!
August 17, 2012, 5:26 am
Filed under: Misc

Loke continues to suffer. Or he did as of last night.

The surgery may have gone well, but everything else has been pure, unadulterated HELL. I expected it to be somewhat difficult the first night and most of the next day, but it was beyond difficult.

Bringing Loke home was utter chaos. He was so out of his head, he started using the bathroom in the clinic and could barely walk as they pushed him up a steep set of stairs. I have no idea WHY they made him climb those. They had a perfectly good door on the lower level he could have gone out of. I hurried the poor fuzzy out to Jens and rushed back in for the rest. I was handed a packet of information and told I’d pay on Thursday when I brought him in for a check up.

Went back out and Jens began looking over the info sheets as I walked around with my suffering cycle buddy. “Where are the pills?” Jens asked.

“What pills?”

“He’s supposed to get some sedative pills for tonight.”

Rolling my eyes, I handed over the leash and ran back in. The vet tech had no idea what I was talking about. After yelling back and forth through the busy clinic with the vet, she finally rolled her eyes to get them. Yes, much eye rolling was done by all.

So, back out to the car where Loke somehow managed to jump into the car before Jens could grab him to pick him up. I guess the furry one was that desperate to leave. Jens was pretty unimpressed with the whole thing as well.

On the way home, I read through the info. I noticed it mentioned a morphine patch. I asked Jens if he’d seen one on the inside of Loke’s legs. I checked and wouldn’t you know it, no morphine patch. I was appalled and Jens went from unimpressed to furious. Our poor husky had just incredibly painful surgery, was coming out of his anesthesia (local and general) and had NO pain management.

We turned around and I called ahead to tell him they’d forgotten his patch. Jens went in with me that time and had WORDS with the vet. He managed to not yell. Everyone was quite apologetic as Loke had part of his tummy shaved for the patch.

The hell did not stop there. We got Loke home and made him as comfortable as we could while covering everywhere Loke might walk or lay with tarps since it could get messy. The whining began. Even with the pain meds and still so groggy with the anesthesia and sedation his tongue wouldn’t stay in his mouth and flat as a rug on his side with eyes closed, Loke couldn’t stop whining. Hour and hours of it.

I laid down to try for some sleep with the intention that Jens would wake me up when he needed to come to bed for work in the morning. Instead, he tried to let me sleep with the intention that I would drive him to work the next morning. The whining went on. Jens even went back to the vet around 3 am because Loke got so bad.

I had less than 4 hours of sleep over the night in spite of my husband’s best intentions. Jens much less. He ended up taking a train to work. I spent all of Tuesday dosing Loke with his meds, must have walked him 20+ times since the only time he seemed to have some kind of peace was when he was outside. With his cycling harness, I half carried him like a piece of luggage since he was so groggy with the drugs. He couldn’t support his own weight effectively. It was especially useful getting him up and down the stairs.

Jens had a very critical set of meetings on Wednesday. Very apologetically, he went to his parents to sleep though his mother (incredibly sweet woman I’m happy to have as a mother-in-law) came to stay overnight and help. Still the whining went on, occasionally spiking into soft howls. My legs and feet were killing me from all the walks. Granted, each was no longer than 200 – 300 meters as Loke himself kept them quiet short. He’d stagger on for a while, then stop to look at me and then toward home before leading the way back the way we’d come. At least his appetite showed signs of returning.

Kiki tried to get me to sleep and I did try, but the whining just went right through my head like an ice pick. I felt sick with my poor puppy’s suffering. I had maybe an hour’s sleep that night.

The next morning when she woke, Kiki chased me to bed, firmly shut the door and then took Loke out for as long a walk as he could manage. Turns out it was an extended block walk. She had to leave around 10 am.

Loke’s whining started to ease a bit through Wednesday and glimpses of my husky started to return. His appetite seemed good and he even did his ‘food dance’. Once he even looked perky and perfectly normal as he stopped whining long enough to walk up to the couch, ears and tail up, eyes bright as he gave his bossy ‘Woof!’. I looked at him and he wagged his tail. Asking if he wanted to go out, he answered with a whirl much like his food dance. I started to feel hopeful the worst was passed.

By that night though, I was in hysterics (yes, full blown hysterics), Jens parents were rushing over and Jens himself left a business dinner to catch the soonest train home. Around 5 pm, after 3 hours of blissful non-whining, Loke started again. Worse was the bleeding. I rushed him back to the vet since that was the first blood I’d seen the entire time. The vet thought Loke had pulled some stitches and might be getting an infection. In hopes of easing Loke’s discomfort so he wouldn’t butt drag, the vet gave him a shot of pain killer. Morphine.

Within minutes of getting home, Loke freaked. He ran around the apartment with the doggie equivalent of screaming panic, hyperventilating with his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. The morphine was giving him hallucinations. It was the end of my stretched nerves. Jens chose that time to send a text. When I didn’t answer it, he called to hear me and Loke both crying. That’s when he fled his dinner to catch a train and sent his parents.

I managed to pull together long enough to call the clinic’s emergency line. One of the vet techs there is a very, very sweet British woman. She could hear Loke in the background and the panic in my voice. She suggested I bring Loke to the clinic overnight. She’d wait and settle him in herself.

In no condition to drive, I had Jens’ dad take us to the clinic. Much to my surprise, once we got there and Loke put in a cage, he curled up and calmed down. The tech told me he’d be fine and I should go home and sleep.

After we picked up Jens from the train station, I did just that. Staggering through the door, I fell face first into bed and didn’t move for 15 hours. In some 65 hours, I’d had less than 7 hours sleep. Most of it in bits and pieces.

Loke was given a thorough going over yesterday. He’d managed to pull some of his stitches. 4 on one side and 1 on the other. He was also developing an infection and they were going to take a culture to get targeted antibiotics for it. They also thought it best if he stayed overnight again, but asked if we’d bring some of his food since they didn’t have anything to accommodate his dietary restrictions.

I looked in on him and got a tail wiggle, but he started getting upset so I quickly left.

I am so desperately hoping the remainder of the ordeal goes more smoothly. I’ve gotten caught up on my sleep, but I’m still a tangle of nerves mixed with a hefty chunk of guilt. It just feels like everything I’ve tried to do to improve my cycling partner’s health has blown up in my (and his) face and worsened the situation. Bless him, Jens has taken most of the burden now, dealing with the vets and all. Not a single word about my freaking out.

During this hell, my birthday went by. My only wish for it was a healthy, happy husky. I’ve had worse birthdays, much worse even, but this one definitely ranks in the top 3.

Any way, that’s my update on Loke’s condition. Hopefully I’ll have happier news to share in the coming days.

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