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Thursday, July 30th, 2009

appointment

Filed under: compassion,death,dogs,vet — alison @ 11:01

Pepe has his final appointment at 14h40 on August 4th. The receptionist at the clinic offered me the choice of two vets, both of whom I like, so I told her to choose whichever one coped best with performing euthanasia. “It’s hard on both of them.”

Yeah, I figured as much. That’s why I had been kind of hoping it would be the vet I like less.

I’m ok with it. I’ve been reviewing my dates and I think he’s 15 years old. It’s just hard getting the balance right: you don’t want to drag an animal’s life out with indefinite suffering, but if the only goal is to spare suffering you might as well drown them at birth. 

Of course it’s going to upset me more than I think, but I’ll worry about that when I get there.

Next decision: shall we spend our weekend digging a nice deep hole in the back yard?

Monday, July 27th, 2009

À chaque jour suffit sa peine.*

Filed under: biblical quotes,compassion,death,dogs,vet — alison @ 12:26
Thanks for everyone’s warm thoughts.
 
We’ll be taking Pepe for his final trip to the vet in a week or two. I’d be ready to take him this week, but Mark is not. I’m keeping an eye on the weather forecasts so I can spend a day in the sun with him and take him to the vet right after.
 
He’s not suffering today, and that’s the point for me. I know he will start suffering again soon and taking him in while he’s still cheerful is the only way to avoid it.
 
I expect it will be harder than I think when the time comes, but that is the future. I mean for Pepe and me to enjoy the present.
 
 *Matthew 6:34. The English version is the convoluted “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” (Apologies for those allergic to religious texts, but they can be goldmines of pithy aphorisims.) (Interestingly, the Dutch version “Leef dus gewoon bij de dag” does not refer to pain or evil at all, whether elegantly or inelegantly.)

Saturday, July 25th, 2009

observation

Filed under: dogs,how to,vet — alison @ 08:47

I love watching vets work.

The vet opened the examining room door, looked at Pepe kindly and with happy anticipation, and called him to her by name. Pepe ambled in and we followed. [Cool vet tricks: How well does Pepe see and hear?  How is his gait? How does he respond to a new place? Is he confident or uncertain? Also: Communicate to Pepe’s bosses – yes, we both went – that Pepe is charming and loveable and worth this focussed attention. Establish trust.]

We told her we were there because Pepe’s seizures were getting worse but he couldn’t take the medication he had been offered. We wanted to try an alternative. The vet brought out his file to see what the notes were, commented that it was a thick file. We acknowledged that. We knew he was chronically ill and we weren’t expecting miracles. [Cool vet trick: set up the bosses for possible end-of-life conversation.]

We showed her the video Mark had shot of Pepe having a seizure. The vet had asked for this months ago, but it’s only now that he has them daily and on cue that we’ve been able to catch him at it. She watched once, carefully, asked questions about his apparent state of consciousness, then explained why she thought this wasn’t epilepsy but an epileptiform seizure. [Cool human trick: explain your reasoning so that your listeners know they’ve been heard and understood.]

Mark volunteered that epileptiform seizures were caused by tumours. The vet agreed that this was one cause, then proceeded to examine Pepe, explaining what she was doing at each step. His heart is fine, therefore his seizures are unlikely to be caused by lack of oxygen to the brain. She listened to his lungs and felt his lymph nodes for signs of metastasis but didn’t find anything obvious. [Cool human trick: explain your reasoning to get buy-in for your conclusions.]

She checked his vision. He has cataracts, but he responds normally to light shone in his eyes and can track a moving light on the wall. He reacts to a raised hand and tapping towards his right eye… but not his left. By this time we were anticipating the conclusion: his brain tumor was affecting the visual processing for his left eye. Aha! moment: so that’s why he let someone pet him while I was holding him the other day: he couldn’t see her approach. [Cool vet trick: she particularly wanted to check his vision because she’d noticed him hesitate as he walked into the room, as if he weren’t sure what was there.]

The next step, she explained, was an MRI. We protested: what would be gained? Well, she said, it was the only way to know for absolutely certain that he has brain cancer. We protested again: it doesn’t matter, because we won’t be treating the cancer anyway. She agreed, adding that a scan would be too expensive. [Cool human trick: Ensure the bosses own the decision.]

She proposed a cortisone prescription to reduce swelling. It might help temporarily. I said what I really wanted to know was how to decide when to bring him in for the final visit. Well, she said, daily seizures really are a lot. They’re physically hard for the animal. Plus, his head must hurt him terribly. [Cool vet trick: load up the bosses with information to make the ultimate decision easier.]

I was stricken by the notion of my poor little dog sleeping in dark rooms because he was laid low by headaches: I had assumed it was just general fatigue. I asked about pain medication. Well, she said, she didn’t want to give him morphine because it’s addictive, and he can’t take both NSAIDs and cortisone, but the cortisone is an antinflammatory and will treat the pain. If the cortisone works he’ll be happy and lively and his seizures will stop or be reduced. If it doesn’t work, or the tumour grows and the cortisone stops helping, we’ll know. But with the cortisone we might be able to buy him a couple more months. [Cool human trick: establish reasonable expectations and next steps.]

So far the cortisone seems to be working. He’s happy, has his appetite back, and is pissing like a fire hydrant. Two more months is just about right: he doesn’t like winter, so it’s good to know he won’t have to go through another one.

Friday, July 24th, 2009

Pepe dancing

Filed under: random — alison @ 13:09

Pepe has been dancing gamely through life, through kidney disease and most recently through epilepsy. He sleeps a lot. His appetite is poor even when he’s hungry. He’s losing weight and his coat is not as smooth as it was. He’s often not steady enough to cock a leg when he pees and not aware enough that he’s peeing to stop walking. A visitor recently petted him while I was holding him and he didn’t bite her — a first, I think. Poupoune is becoming more and more aggressive towards him, apparently responding to his weakening condition and moving in for the kill.

And when I come home he dances towards me, dances happily in circles.

… then he has a seizure. He’s been having them daily for the past week or so. We tried him on phenobarbital but it made him ataxic and he couldn’t walk. I was in Winnipeg but Mark says he looked frightened, as if he thought he was dying. We have an appointment tonight to get a prescription for another medication but if it doesn’t help then he may only have a couple of weeks left.

Mark, do you have video of Pepe dancing?

Saturday, July 18th, 2009

phone call

Filed under: random — alison @ 18:30

Alison: Oui, bonjour?

Caller (with southern accent): Excuse me ma’am, do you speak English?

Alison: Yes I do.

Caller: My name is Chris. How are you today?

Alison: [pause] Chris, are you a telemarketer?

Caller: [sadly] Yes I am.

Alison: I’m sorry, could you call someone else?

Caller: [sadly and tiredly] Have a nice evening, ma’am.

Saturday, July 4th, 2009

Mail-order brides

A little kerfuffle over at Science Blogs brought mail-order brides back to my attention. (Didn’t they have their fifteen minutes of fame in the eighties?)

I commented to Mark that I didn’t see what the fuss was about. He gamely pointed to the fuzzy grey borderline between mail-order brides and prostitution.

Alison: Well, there’s a fuzzy-to-nonexistent borderline between marriage and prostitution generally. The point of marriage is that it recognises sexual relationships as inherently potentially exploitatitve, and confers legal rights and responsibilities on the parties involved.

Mark: Ah, but that doesn’t apply in the US. If they divorce, the mail-order bride has no residency rights and is deported back to her country of origin. It’s not like Canada where a sponsored immigrant spouse has residency rights independent of the status of the relationship.

Oh. Right. I keep forgetting. (Which is odd, because one of my favourite stories about sponsoring Mark under Canada’s Family Reunification Program is how when he went to get his visa exchanged for a residency card, he was sat down and solemnly lectured that if I were to become abusive, he was not to hesitate to Move Out Immediately. Quebec would help him find a place to live and give him welfare if he needed it. He would NOT have to leave the country. Quebec would come after me for reimbursement as necessary. He was NOT to worry about that.)

But does that mean that we should be worried about the institution of mail-order brides, or that we should be protesting the lack of protection the US offers immigrant spouses – exacerbating a situation of potential exploitation where marriage is supposed to alleviate it?

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