Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recovery. Show all posts

Sep 6, 2010

Home is where three paws meet cement

Day 10 - September 2nd

It's also where the ♥ is, of course. And the Castor...

After a short night's sleep, we awoke ready to tackle the day.

Ok, so that's me talking with my thinking-positive hat on. I was tired. And Castor, well, he was enjoying most of the bed. I slept better than you would think after seeing the room Cas left for me. (Yep, this is exactly how we slept. I had that space to the left of his bum. He's so generous, huh?)

I'm so happy to have this little bed hog still by my side, though.

Before adventures with Cas, it was time for me to teach yoga at Laughing Lotus. It was very healing to create a class designed around the theme of living in transitions. It was also healthy to focus on non-Castor beings for a couple of hours. Plus, I had everyone do a bunch of 3-legged dogs, in honor of my boy. Cute.

Afterward, I headed home. Time for stairs, cement, and hills. Bring it.

Thank
god me he's trained
There are commands Castor learned that I knew were important. "Sit," "stay," and "slow down" come to mind. Now, some are essential. Think: "go potty," "step," and "up." Perhaps the latter two need some explaining.

This January, after a trip to Santa Barbara during which Cas seemed trepidatious and rather clumsy, we went to see an eye doctor. He was diagnosed with progressive retinal atrophy (PRA). The vet estimated he had about 10% vision left. It's gotten worse since, though his growly cuteness the other day (see last blog entry) proved to me he still sees something. Not much though.

You will notice that Castor's eyes are glowing bright green in his bath time picture. Rather than absorbing light, his retina reflect light. This had been going on for quite a while before I noticed him having trouble seeing. During a sunny day out, for him it's dark as night.

On the way home from the ophthalmologist, to help him see better in the house, we purchased several new lamps.

The next month, our electricity bill doubled.

And so, I officially became Castor's seeing eye human seven months ago. I had to train myself to be his guide. I still let him be off leash most of the time. He listens when I tell him slow down, wait, and over here. And he would never step into the street without me. How he knows he's reached the corner, I still don't know. I learned to pay close attention to him and his surroundings.

The important additions to our language became words for stepping up and down. I chose "up," for obvious reasons, and "step," because "down" was already taken. (I didn't want him to lay down at the end of a sidewalk, after all.) A few weeks later and with the addition of gentle tugs on his collar, it was impossible for most to notice he was nearly blind.

Except, of course, for those unfortunate few who he runs straight into at the dog run. They know. Zero serious injuries, so far. =)

With his new challenges, I am grateful that we've overcome the lack-of-sight obstacle. The biggest difficulty his vision presents now is that it's not easy for him to adjust to new environments. So, the idea of moving to a new place without stairs, for instance, is not without it's drawbacks. Also, the new ramp for my car is a very mixed bag for him (see: below).

All in all, I have never been so proud of myself for his training. It's one thing to show off a dog that won't beg at Holiday gatherings. It's another to support a highly adaptable, confident tripawd. Soon, we'll review and relearn "down dog," but for now, I'm letting him get used to hopping around. He's already got being adorable down.

(Note: Jen was invaluable during the first year of training. Without her mentorship, the inevitable and tiresome, "who's walking who?," questions would be justifiable.)

Down we go. On three...
Our Castro apartment comes complete with fantastic bay windows and is filled with beautiful things and thriving plants. Unfortunately, one must climb twelve marble stairs to enjoy it. This morning Castor had to find his way back down on three.

Thankfully, there were four sets of hands to help. If just for reassurance, Castor, and perhaps I, needed them. It went ok. We got him down safely, averting his first plan to jump down about six stairs in one giant leap.



Thank you hands! Along with hands, however, there were also four human mouths creating a bit too much audible chaos for the boy (and you, the viewer?). Hence my newly adopted only-meL-talks-to-Castor rule. This has been a successful dictatorial decision so far, if I do say so myself.

All teasing myself aside, it was just too much having everyone try to give Castor commands. He was frozen with confusion. He listens best to me and loves to please, so we all agreed it was the way to go. The stairs are getting easier and easier as we learn how best to help him.

Going down is easier on his rear legs and tougher on his fear of falling. When he climbs up, I try to take weight out of his rear leg. Hear wears a ruff ready harness now, so that we can lift some of his weight off of his joints. There's a delicate balance to find where we help but don't freak him out. He still has to feel grounded on his own three paws.

Gawd, a ramp too?!
We decided a ramp was the way to go for getting Cas into my car. The one we found, however, is only 17 inches wide. Not wide enough. He kept stepping off the side and usually ended up clawing his way to the top. You can check out the drama for yourself. This first time was actually not one of the worst attempts.



Still, I decided pretty quickly to ditch the ramp. I just park perpendicular to the street now, rear tires to the curb, and help lift his rear into the car. It's quicker, more familiar, and my beetle isn't too far up from the ground. The way out is even easier. I support his chest with my arms, and let him down easy. It's like giving him a big, arduous hug. No more ramp.

I will look for a wider ramp for times when we need something, but for everyday trips (i.e., the everyday trips to the park we'll be having now), it'll be a quick hop in and out.

The grass is always greener at the park
At least all of this effort was getting us somewhere fun. We ended up at Dolores Park. He was happy to be in grass again. We found a nice shady area to sit in. There was a sweet couple sitting nearby inquiring about Castor's situation and recovery (you can see them in the background of the picture to the right). Almost immediately, he demonstrated his ability to poop on three legs.

Yep. Rob even caught it on video by accident. Again, I'll spare you the images. They understood, of course, and we were all happy he went.

We spent some loving time in the ridiculously warm (for San Francisco) weather. Mom, Matt, Rob, Cas, and I breathing, laughing, and appreciating each other. Well, Castor didn't laugh so much as grunt. But I know that's his way of saying he's pleased.

After a couple of hours, we headed back. The adjusting is so much more pleasant surrounded by family.

At home, I gave Cas a long massage, and put an ice pack on his left hip. The swelling is gone. The bruising is gone. He is down to 50-100mg of tramadol once to twice daily, and almost over his 14 day Cephalexin course (antibiotics). I will take his staples out on Monday.

Time to start setting up the first chemo appointment. I still have to decide between VSA in San Mateo (pricey but sweet Dr.), UC Davis (cheaper and maybe some clinical trials), and a practice in Los Angeles (very far => more car rides => ugh).

I'm leaning towards UC Davis at this point. We're supposed to start 2-3 weeks post-op. Stay tuned.

Sep 3, 2010

On the road again, again

Days 8 & 9 - August 31st and September 1st

The blogging has been a bit stopped, because readjusting to SF and having multiple visitors have taken my full attention. I'm back now. Let's catch up! (Note: I have uploaded, possibly too many, videos to my youtube channel, bespeakmel. Some are embedded in my posts, but there are more, if you just can't get enough. ha!)

Castor's recovery is going fantastically still. His bruising is almost gone. He's hopping happily around the yard and house. He's demanding attention. In a cute way, of course. I've started giving him only 2 tramadols twice daily (down from 2.5 pills three times daily, right after surgery).

Me? Well, I'm hanging in there. I think the constantly being on guard and at Jen's finally started to get to me on Tuesday. And then there was the imminent departure thing.

Let the ughing...er, transitioning begin
Ugh. That about sums it up.

Castor and I have become really comfortable here in Santa Ynez. The grass, the friends, the animals, the pleasing dry air (the last one is to be read sarcastically). And now, it's time to go back to our little home in the hilly city. (duh duh duhhh...)

Yesterday, I started feeling pretty irritable and more than a bit nervous. I have done a hell of a job at staying grounded and cheerful through the transition from quadru to tri. This new transition, from grassy space to marble stairs, is really testing my inner peace though. Also, I'm reaching exhaustion at this point.


As Castor soaked up the last day with his Auntie Jen, I worried about him adjusting to life in the city. We sat on the grass for several hours yesterday. Our only concern was the sodding flies, a small price to pay for the beautiful breeze and gentle sun also keeping us company. The simple sounds of horses nickering and leaves shuffling soothed me. And Castor's silly growl gave me the giggles.



I love those sweet moments when I am grateful for the oft-unnoticed pulses of life. (Thank you, life!)

Ready or not
Matt came back to pick us up on Wednesday morning. Cas greeted him with wags and kisses. I did a good job greeting him with smiles, despite my rising stress level. It's good to have such understanding, loving help. I can support Castor, but without my friends, I might not be holding myself up too well at this point.



So, we loaded up the Bug. Just like our first big move together to Madison, sans the kitties. I made a pillowed palace for him in the back, and we put all of our stuff on the luggage racks. Off we go!

Are we there yet?
I kept thinking, after about 45 minutes in the car. Thankfully, the last 3 hours went pretty quickly. Castor decided to be adorable, which distracted me for a while. While Matt and I argued about the dangers of texting, I breathed deeply.

"Gawd, I need some alone time," I thought.

In the same breath, I felt gratitude for all of Matt's help, especially letting Cas lick all over his face. (You say bad, bad breath, I say awww.) So, I tried to let the texting go, and Matt tried to let me do some of his texting for him. We compromised. How cute. (I still maintain that texting, eyes on the road or not, makes driving too dangerous to be acceptable. Plus, it seems that most states have already made it illegal. So, =P, Matt. )



We got to SF at about 8pm. It does feel good to be home. Plus, finally some summer weather here. It was 85 degrees when we arrived. Great weather, bad timing. Cas was panting like crazy. A fan and some ice cubes later, we settled down for the evening.

I don't remember how getting up the stairs happened, but it did. Tomorrow will be filled with stairs. Up and down. For tonight, we rest. I think his favorite part was being reunited with my (excuse me, our) queen bed.

My mom also flew in tonight for a visit. I'm so glad she's here, and I know she understands that the excitement in this trip will revolve around Castor's trials. The two most important creatures in my life are here, and I am filled with love. Not to mention the several others here with us that are high on that list.

Did I mention love?

Alone time can wait a little longer.

Aug 27, 2010

He peed!

Day 3 - Thursday, August the 25th
Hooray!!!

I never thought I'd be so happy to see him pee. It reminds me of the time I celebrated his long-awaited dump on concrete in NYC. He waited 5 days that time. He was quickly rewarded with a carrot. People looked confused by my pride.

Yesterday, everyone was on board with the woo-hoo-ing, though. He's already figured it out. He peed the 2nd day after surgery, and every day since then. He even marked after the other dogs here.

Poop? Well, he needs to. These are the few activities that seem to be more difficult with the loss of a hind leg. Hopefully tomorrow he'll make it happen.

And he'll get another carrot. Definitely. =)

Aug 26, 2010

The day after

Day 2 - Wednesday, August 25th
A very not cool change
All was going so well, it was especially upsetting when he started doing poorly. After a few-step stroll in the house, he felt very hot. (It doesn't help that it's hot as F here right now!)

Yep. His temp was 105.5. Not good. (Normal dog temp is 100.5 - 102.5.)

Thankfully, Jen is here and invaluably helpful. We gave him cold fluids, soaked him in ice water dipped towels and iced his hip area. I was very worried when he started having really labored breathing, holding his head out as if he couldn't breathe well.

Suddenly, all of my calm and focused demeanor drained out through a hole the floor (one can only assume). It was a scary couple of hours for me. I kept treating his fever, and Jen kept monitoring him. After a dose of Metacam (an NSAID), he started getting better.

It seems that this is, most likely, his reaction to pain. Ugh.

Cas on his own 3 paws
Thankfully, he was up on his feet later that day.
In fact, he was up on his feet, all by himself!



So, he's already eating and walk-hopping. He's recovering and learning so fast. He doesn't want to drink much, but so far he's willing to eat kibble soup. (I'm so tricky.) The site is definitely swollen and has LOTS of bruising (see: picture at right). All normal, though painful looking.

Still no peeing or pooping. That's going to be a challenge the first time. He'll figure it out though; they all do!

His personality is starting to shine through the sutures and bruising now too. When the paw came up, inviting (or was it demanding?) some chest rub action, I knew he was doing alright. It melts my heart every time.

Gratitude as great attitude
I can't say enough about how the support of my best friends who were able to be here in person has helped me and Castor. Dabs has been constantly at my side helping since I heard the news. Matt, Cas's poppa, was able to come out from Madison to be here. Castor's roommates, Rob (a human) and Hoshi (his kitten sister), can't be here, but they send love to him every day.

Eric performed Castor's surgery with skill and love, and I am so grateful to him and everyone at CARE who helped out.

Jen has been invaluable in his surgery (literally. she scrubbed in for it.) and the ensuing days recovering, both from her love and her experience. Her and her roommates, Sarah and Stephanie (humans); Maya, Doodle, and Marius (doggies); and Jimini Cricket (the mini horse previously owned by the King of Pop...Seriously!) have generously welcomed us, and the entourage, into their home.

I can't imagine having other people care for Castor in the hospital or going through this recovery in San Francisco. Not only has being here, surrounded by loved ones and more nature than concrete, been vital for him; it's been essential for my serenity and sanity in all of this craziness.

And to those of our friends who are supporting from afar, in prayers, words, and/or money, I am so grateful. I can't possibly list you all here, because, fortunately, there are too many of you. However, you are all helping Castor through this ordeal, and I can't express how much that means to me.

The other people I'm grateful to are those who put theirs and their dogs experience with cancer and amputation out there for me to read. That is one reason I'm documenting everything here. I want Castor and I to be of service to anyone who has the shit luck of having to go through this.

I've heard gratitude defined as great attitude. Of course, I would not have chosen this path, and I cannot say I am grateful for what Castor is going through.

I can say that I am grateful for being able to support him through this. He has given me unconditional, devoted love his entire life. I am absolutely grateful to offer the same to him now.

Get that cancer off of him

Surgery Day - Tuesday, August 24th

Time to smell the grass

As per his usual, Cas did not want to get out of bed in the morning. Even this airbed we're sharing.

Before surgery, we stopped off at the park again. There were ducks, and turtles, and doggies, oh my!

So beautiful, yet so few people. It's incredibly peaceful. And, apparently, it smells interesting too!

Amputation

It was a short stop, and then a quick ride to CARE Hospital. He was less nervous with his Auntie Jen there. His teeth were not chattering, a common occurrence at the vet. A quick chat with the surgeon, the fantastic and thoughtful Dr. Eric Wright, recapping what I've spent my last week and a half learning (Summary: Osteosarcoma - very bad. To stop pain, remove leg.) and some procedure and recovery information.

Cas gets to keep his hip and a small portion of his femur since the tumor was in his distal tibia. This means he will heal faster, and his muscles won't eventually atrophy as is the case with complete amputation of limb. He'll have a little bum muscle. Yay!!

I was no longer anxious or grieving. I am ready. I am ready to have this cancer taken off his body. I am ready for his rehabilitation. I am ready to have a happier pup. I am ready to deal.

So, with a big hug from my dearest Jen and a kiss to Cas, I left him in the back while they prepped the meds for his transformative nap. I was so thankful to be leaving him in the hands of not only skilled professionals, but close friends.

I spent the next many hours busying myself with catching up on the rest of my life - emails, writing, knitting, yoga - and fundraising for Cas. And waiting.

I waited patiently until about 2:30.

"Mom, I'm outta surgery," relays Jen via text message. "He did great. Hope ur ok he's fine." She even sent me a cute (though, perhaps strange for non-techs and vets) pic of my boy zonkered with his tongue all hanging out. (adorable!)

The surgery couldn't have gone better. His closure is beautiful. He spent several hours sleeping it off and was expected to stay overnight.

Then came the call. Apparently, he was not loving coming off the narcotics. He wouldn't stop whining unless he was being cuddled by Jen, who, oddly enough, had work to do at work. So, we all decided he should spend the evening at home with us. ♥

Dabs and I went to get him, and he had just been walking around (i.e., with two techs' help and a sling) outside looking everywhere for me. When I got there I just sat down with his head in my lap and comforted him. Another tech friend, Tina, sat with him for 2 hours before I arrived. Such sweet people we know!

I finally saw his incision as we left. OMG! It's so painful looking, as are most surgical sights, I imagine. I have to just believe Jen (which I do, of course) when she says it looks great. It's all about perspective.

Not sleeping sucks
I slept next to Cas the whole night. (I'm surprised by how comfortable sleeping on a bunch of pillows can be. No more will I feel sorry for Cas sleeping on his doggie bed, instead of my bed. That is not to say that he won't sleep on my bed at night. =)

I wanted to know if he needed me for anything through the night. Boy, did he!

I am sure it sucked more for Castor than for me. Neither of us slept. He whined a lot, not from pain; coming off of drugs makes them wig a bit. Understandably so. I think I dozed of for 5 minutes here and there. Finally, around 3:30am, I woke up Jen and he got a little more pain meds.


He, and therefore I, was asleep for about 2 hours. Sweet! Ah, the little things.

Very little sleep won't stop Cas, though.

The next morning, we were up and hopping around. The getting up part was a challenge, but only a little one with Jen on team Castor! I am so proud of him; he's such a rockstar! Check him out getting around with almost no help less than 24 hours post-op. He even ate a small amount of chicken.


(Jen's got the touch!)


(The video turns sideways toward the end. Dabs is learning to record as Cas learns to walk. haha!)

The recovery is going really well. Some dogs I've read about didn't get up for days and wouldn't eat a thing. We're lucky his spirits are so high.

With that, I am so optimistic. Go Castor!