White Dog was still pressing her head on Monday so first thing we called Dr. Julia's office. We are blessed to have a vet that makes room for us when we call...""Can you come at two today?" Cindy asked. "Oh wait, White Dog has the pancreatic cyst and the doctor might want to take a look at it. If you have gabapentin to get her through, Tuesday might be better. Bring her in first thing and we will be able to do diagnostics as well as a physical check; today we just are too slammed for an ultrasound or x-rays."
Since White Dog was eating and walking about we agreed that a longer slot to review Our Girl might be more helpful in determining the problem. First thing this morning we all kissed WD for luck and told her to hurry home.
Middle of the afternoon Dr. Julia called. "Seems like I have mostly good news," she told me. "White Dog is pressing against you on her right side because she has a corneal ulcer; those are VERY uncomfortable but drops will clear it right up. No pressing though. Her ear has a bit of gunk against the eardrum which we are flushing out but there is no infection or foxtail. And the best most amazing news is that her pancreatic cyst is completely healed. Gone. None of my reading said that could happen but we went back over the area from several angles with the ultrasound wand and if we did not have old shots of it you would never know it was ever there. AND I am so pleased at her response to the PRP Therapy; she was standing by herself and turning around in the kennel. I was so happy that I took a cell phone photo of it. Steve can pick her up after 5."
Things can change in an instant.
Steve got there a few minutes after and was shown into an exam room. Dr. Julia came in and said, "Can you wait a bit? She just had a seizure; her front leg went rigid for a couple of minutes. It seems idiopathic. We have given her some glucose since she has not eaten all day and some keppra. It could also be a stroke. Let's go over options for when you get her home."
We were not prepared for White Dog, drooping under Steve's arm, eyes fluttering when they walked in. I clutched her to my heart and whispered all of my strength and love into her. "I love you with everything I am, Little White Dog of My Heart," I repeated my every night blessing to her.
Holding her upright so she would not aspirate, we fed a few bites of baby food and dripped down water. She swallowed them without coughing and rested against me while Steve set up our "hospital" space.
Domed oxygen mask in place and bottled O2 softly hissing, White Dog settled next to me on the bed where we rested alone as Steve fed the others. Her eyes stopped rolling and with the oxygen her breathing was firm and solid.
Steve held my hands the way people do when they tell you things you do not want to hear. "What if she does not make it?" he asked. "Rosie's eyes seemed to lack hope."
"The only one who knows what is to be is White Dog. She knows the hope and love that surround her...and that this does not have to be an end. Time and love, dear one. Time and love."