sunday morning was rough. the thought of sleep was laughable. i could do nothing but cry, though i was confident in milo's level of care. that fact never changed.
work on sunday, wherein i spent most of it trying to find out everything i could about what was going on with my dog. i was terrified. google searches began to turn up french bulldog message board posts like, "beware of may's kennels in brooklyn!". i felt completely hopeless. what could i have done differently? where did i go wrong? why didn't i tell brian what i thought of the kennel after i visited elles's new puppies last winter? i didn't want to play the blame game. it was impossible not to. i am not without my faults. i was angry at so many people....i'm ashamed of this. i am more ashamed to admit that this hasn't completely gone away.
i heard from dr. patillo, the veterinarian who had taken over from the overnight e.r. vet at the specialists: the transtracheal wash was successful, despite the risks involved with anesthesia. huge relief. he was getting fluids, getting the nebulizer, still on oxygen. his oxygen levels were still too low. i could visit him tomorrow--though he was in isolation, i would be permitted to peek through the glass door, as if he were a baby in a nursery.
that night, for the first time since i'd gotten milo, i slept. i believed--enough-- that everything would be ok. that's what everyone was telling me, and it allowed me to sleep.
i hadn't heard from the vet on monday....i called in the afternoon, and the vet tech was letting me know that he was doing better. she was "happy for me". i spoke with dr. patillo, and we scheduled a visit for a peek at milo for 7:15.
when i arrived, dr. patillo was frank with me: earlier in the day, she was a little concerned, but he really seemed to turn a corner this afternoon. he was perking up- eating, drinking, pooping, peeing. i was led downstairs to see him. he was in a glass kennel that was being pumped with oxygen. dr. petillo took him out to peek at me through the glass. i was overjoyed. he looked healthier. the gauntness was gone: he was revived, he looked supple. he stood steadily on the table. she wiped his nose. he coughed and coughed. when she put him back into his "tank", he sniffed and sucked down the air like he meant it. he wanted to get better. he would get better. when i asked dr. patillo if she thought he would make it, she nodded confidently, "i really think so".
work on sunday, wherein i spent most of it trying to find out everything i could about what was going on with my dog. i was terrified. google searches began to turn up french bulldog message board posts like, "beware of may's kennels in brooklyn!". i felt completely hopeless. what could i have done differently? where did i go wrong? why didn't i tell brian what i thought of the kennel after i visited elles's new puppies last winter? i didn't want to play the blame game. it was impossible not to. i am not without my faults. i was angry at so many people....i'm ashamed of this. i am more ashamed to admit that this hasn't completely gone away.
i heard from dr. patillo, the veterinarian who had taken over from the overnight e.r. vet at the specialists: the transtracheal wash was successful, despite the risks involved with anesthesia. huge relief. he was getting fluids, getting the nebulizer, still on oxygen. his oxygen levels were still too low. i could visit him tomorrow--though he was in isolation, i would be permitted to peek through the glass door, as if he were a baby in a nursery.
that night, for the first time since i'd gotten milo, i slept. i believed--enough-- that everything would be ok. that's what everyone was telling me, and it allowed me to sleep.
i hadn't heard from the vet on monday....i called in the afternoon, and the vet tech was letting me know that he was doing better. she was "happy for me". i spoke with dr. patillo, and we scheduled a visit for a peek at milo for 7:15.
when i arrived, dr. patillo was frank with me: earlier in the day, she was a little concerned, but he really seemed to turn a corner this afternoon. he was perking up- eating, drinking, pooping, peeing. i was led downstairs to see him. he was in a glass kennel that was being pumped with oxygen. dr. petillo took him out to peek at me through the glass. i was overjoyed. he looked healthier. the gauntness was gone: he was revived, he looked supple. he stood steadily on the table. she wiped his nose. he coughed and coughed. when she put him back into his "tank", he sniffed and sucked down the air like he meant it. he wanted to get better. he would get better. when i asked dr. patillo if she thought he would make it, she nodded confidently, "i really think so".
posted by nowlze at 5:51 AM
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