More Pooka than not

Apologies for having been off blogging for so many days. After the initial high following a first good night's sleep since her accident, the ensuing days have still been tiring, and nights more often interrupted than not. So while the sedatives have definitely helped, things remain a bit rocky. And thus, a bit of a rambling, tired post.

The biggest problems aren't really big deals. She's frustrated and bored, and wants to go outside and play. And instead, I take her out for mere minutes, then tie her to the furniture or shovel her into the kennel. And this is not making my life easy. She wants attention, a lot, when I'm home, and can barely stand for me to be in the other room while she's alert. A friend was over, and she was unsettled and whiny for much of the time. The whining may not start until 6am...or it might be 4am: whine whine moan moan barkbark, barkbark, barkbark...repeat to the point where I cannot take it any more and get up to take her out. Ear plugs are the new potty training pads. (See next paragraph.) I'm generally patient, but reached the outer limits of my ability to deal last night, and realized how much I need some time away from her after spending most of Saturday together in the house. I feel out of touch with my friends, my life. I miss all the walking we used to do. I need air, exercise. And so does she, poor kid.

The other -- the difficulty peeing problem -- is getting better. We no longer require the potty-training pads, though there are still very occasional accidents, and she seems to pee more in a single attempt than a week ago. Dr. A was concerned we might need to consult a specialist, because his opinion was that Pooka's bladder should be better if it were merely accident-related trauma, but Dr. M (the vet, not the dad) said he thought it might take weeks longer. I'm happy to give it time, as long as it's not getting worse or causing any major additional problems.

Other than that, her recovery seems to be on track. The incision has healed over, so no more blue doughnut or conehead Pooka for the forseeable future. The swelling in her legs and behind has gone down, her bumps and scrapes have scabbed over and are getting much better. Her shaved parts have enough hair that she doesn't look pathetic.

She can't stand well on the floors still, and I'm still helping with the sling on stairs and when she seems wobbly. She's walking more steadily, but nowhere near 100%. Today she tried to jump on me when I came home and took her out of the crate -- but realized when she collapsed into a squat that she wasn't quite ready for that yet. She's started using hind legs to scratch gently, and has begun a very toned-down version of the game where she parades around her favorite treat when I come home.

Basically, the hardest bits now are the waiting, and saying to her, no, you really can't go out again. You can't keep walking. You can't play with Maka. You can't get on the bed. You can't hang out on the couch while I'm out. Dog: stop being a dog. I hope she forgets this all when it's over. I hope I forget it, too.

Two more things

I forgot to mention:

- One of the hardest things for me at first was to see Pooka's hairless hindquarter. I'm pleased to report she's not looking nearly so bald.

- Kennel + conehead = absolutely batshit Pooka. On O.'s suggestion, I got an inflatable blue donut-shaped collar that keeps her from reaching her incision. I put it on her, left for a few hours, and came home to a neatly deflated blue donuthead. In the middle of a sleepless howling-filled night, it struck me that I could fill the donuthead cover with stuffing from the fabric store. Voila! An un-poppable blue donut, which freaks her out way, way less than the cone.

Pooka's Progress

It's Wednesday, and that means a week since Pooks came home to Ballard. She's doing well in many regards, and not so well in a very few.

First, the good news. The swelling (doctor jargon is "edema") in her hind legs has cleared up. The bruising around her back end has cleared up. The incision area is less swollen, and if she'd only stop with the stealth licking it would be nicely scabbed over by now. She's out of the crate several times a day, insistently dragging me over to the nicest-smelling patch of grass out there, and is uninterested in going back inside when our few minutes are over.

Now, for the less-good. She doesn't seem as uncomfortable when she has to pee -- but she's still peeing while laying about the crate & house. I am contemplating buying stock in the company that makes our potty-training pads of choice. They're significantly better than Petco's.

For the last several nights, she's been inconsolably whiny, making this low moaning noise whenever I try to sleep. When I wake up and go to her, or look at her or stand up over her, it stops. At first I thought it might be pain. Nope. Dr. M (the vet, not my dad) thinks it's behavioral. Could be caused by the narcotics, or by a narcotic hangover, or because she wants attention when things get hairy. I went so far as to put my sleeping bag outside the other night. But about three minutes after I lay down, the horrible noise began anew. And I can't take it. So I went back in and sat with her for the rest of the night. At daybreak, the gouls went away and she went to sleep...and was more or less sacked out the rest of the day.

What to do? Though I was operating on almost no sleep yesterday, Dr. M had me keep her awake, and then we drugged the snot out of her with some doggy sedatives. She and I both had a good long night's sleep. And I feel great!

The point was to get her back on a normal schedule for sleeping and waking. The downside: She has spent much of today making the horrible nighttime moaning noises. And I'm supposed to ignore it, so as to not inadvertantly encourage it. These are terrible, terrible noises. I'm working on rewarding the quiet moments now.

Thanks to the other Dr. M, aka Pooka's grandfather, who suggested we lay off the heavy hitter meds and knock her out at night, to keep her from "sundowning," or losing her marbles at night.

And I am so incredibly grateful to my boss & coworkers, who have been incredibly flexible and supportive as I've stumbled through the last week. I'm going to work from home for two more days, then attempt normalcy next week.

Keep sending those good thoughts for speedy healing, and let her know that it's going to be OK. The humans are in control, and she's through the worst of it. I think she's a little worried still.

Pooka update: the first weekend

Pooka's arrival home Wednesday was rather miraculous -- she could stand with help, and seemed very much herself much of the time.

But caring for her in the days since has been exhausting.

She was having problems peeing more than a few drops at a time, and needed to go out every few hours. On Friday afternoon, I chatted with the vet about whether we thought antibiotics were warranted -- bladder infection, or simply trauma? We decided to wait a few more days to see if it fixed itself, but by Friday night it was clear that things were getting worse, not better. Miss P was up ever hour moaning and whining, and so, I was up every hour trying to encourage her to get up and go out (she usually settles down after she's walked a little, peed a little). She's quiet when I'm looking at her, petting her, clearly awake and in charge, but as soon as I try to get some sleep she begins the moaning again. It's an awful sound, and it gets louder if I ignore. And let's be realistic, it's impossible to ignore at this point, because I feel so horrible for her.

Oh, and she's taken to peeing wherever she happens to be laying down. Which is fine, because all that up and down may not have been great for her broken bones. But now a whole host of questions about neurological vs. trauma/infection-induced incontinence is dogging me, and no matter how many times Dr. M (that's dad) tells me to "put away the magnifying glass," I'm still worried.

So, started antibiotics Saturday evening, and so far I'm not sure if things are better or worse. We had a better night Saturday, but back to all of three hours last night. I'm really, really tired, and looking forward to another call from the vet's office to discuss possible pain meds.

Other issues...she's become incredibly picky about what she eats. Normal kibble is out, as is (I found out today) beef-based canned food. She's still semi-enthusiastic about the chicken/turkey canned food, so I'm getting as much into her as I can, but she turns away from portions bigger than a spoonful at a time (best served in the palm of my hand). If I knew she was just being a brat and making the most of the situation, I'd feel better about leaving her a plate and saying take it or leave it. But I feel like I just need to get the calories into her, and if this is what it takes...ugh.

Pooka's grandparents have been fabulous at giving me time to rest and then taking my mind off the poor kid in the eveningtimes. I don't know how I'm going to go back to work and leave her all day. On the one hand, I already feel guilty and nervous about how she'll feel while I'm out. On the other hand, I am desperate for a break. Terrible to leave a suffering creature all alone.

Crate living

I'm sitting on the couch. Pooka is lying down and looking sleepy in the new crate. A crate into which she willingly tumbles, I might add. I think she knows she's safe in there.

I am happy my girl is home. She has an appetite, drinks water sometimes when I put it near her face, and is back to growling at the landlord. But it's breaking my heart to see her so beat up, various gashes and swellings, shaved and sutured. And helping her walk with the sling, seeing her little feet slip on the floor. Sadness.

Now she's snoozing, having some good REM sleep, it looks like. I'm distracted and tired -- the pain meds had her up and panting and whining at 2:30, so I took her out for a bit -- but must work.

Pooka update: HOME

Just a few brief words. I picked up my parents, we dashed to Crown Hill Vet Supply for a new crate, pad, and sling to help the Pooka walk. We dashed home to assemble (easy assembly, thank goodness). We dashed back into the car. And dashed to the hospital.

Met with tech to go over meds (more details later), and Dr. A to go over the X-rays. When he realized my dad (Dr. M) was savvy, he launched into a more macho explanation of his work. Gorgeous new screws (2) in her body. Nice work, Dr. A, as far as we can tell.

And then, they brought her out. She looked at me with eyes wide and ears up. We gently helped her out to the car. And that was it. She was in my care.

Since she's been home we've made two attempts to go to the bathroom -- no pooping since Saturday, but given Pooka's past poop strikes, I'm really not all that concerned, beyond the basic "are things working" knowledge. Attempt #1 yielded a squat but no action. Attempt #2, poop! Two hard little rocks. Hopefully we'll get her more comfy in the next few days, but now that I know she's willing to try even with me helping her with the sling, I'm feeling better.

She's eaten treats, both chewy and Kong; she slurped a little water when I held it to her face. She growled at neighbors. And she watched a housefly very intently, clearly wishing she were well enough to snap it out of the air.

All in all, it's still my girl. She's sacked out now, so we're going to leave her for a bit to grab a bite to eat. Thank you to all for the good wishes. Direct all cosmic vibes to her hind joints, for clean speedy healing.

Pooka accident update: Looking good for coming home

I haven't talked to the vets yet today, but as of yesterday afternoon, she was putting some weight on the newly repaired leg and even ate some food. Both are very good signs.

I also finally felt strong enough to open the envelope containing all the records related to her stay at the emergency clinic. It was hard to go through it, but the notes from the vet were reassuring. The biggest surprise was a note from the Good Samaritan who brought my dear Pooka in. She has a name and a phone number, and I can't wait to call her and thank her for saving my darling. Apparently she ran across Aurora from east to west. I might be wrong, but I think she had headed for Greenlake, one of our favorite walks, and then was trying to get back. Makes me absolutely sick to think about, actually, so I shall sign off and get moving. Lots to do today before I'm ready for her.

Temporary blog time-out

Dear Pooka-lovers:

I'm headed to San Francisco for work for the day, so don't worry -- no updates is a good thing. Keep thinking those good thoughts though.

Pooka, listen: I'm getting on a plane today, but then I'm coming right back. And tomorrow, depending on how your legs feel, you're going to come home again. So show the doc what a strong girl you are today, ok? Love you, Lou, see you in a little while.

Pooka accident update: post-op report, more details

Dr. A called and gave me the run-down. Her chest X-ray was fine. The mysterious "why are things out of whack" issue in the earlier films was due to positioning, and new X-rays showed no additional breaks in the sacrum. The break on her left side is far enough behind the joint that he decided to leave it alone, after rotating her leg around and judging range of motion and lack of crunchy, crackley bits.

He put two screws into her right side, and while he said his work on one was less than perfect, he said also that he didn't think it would make much practical difference.

So, she's closed up and resting, and they'll gauge her ability to put weight on the back legs tomorrow morning. That will likely be my next update.

Please direct your healing thoughts to her immune system, to accept the new screws and fix her wounds, and calming thoughts so she can get through these next days and weeks in the crate without too much frustration. And to kidneys and liver and all those other important parts.

Pooka: post-op update

Just called the clinic. Pooka is out of surgery and doing very well, they say. Sleeping, sedated on some very good pain meds, snuggled under a blanket. I don't know any more details -- left message for the doc to call me back when he could.

Sweet dreams, Pooka, rest well, mend well.

Pooka update: surgery

Just got back from talking to the surgeon, Dr. A. He walked me through Dr. C's notes, and then we got down to business looking at her X-rays.

On the right side, he's certain he knows what's going on and how he's going to repair, with a few minor variations (screws vs. pins and placement of those, etc.)

On the left, though, there are a few question marks I hope will be solved shortly. One is a big break that may be behind her illiac joint (am I getting that right, dad?) and therefore less critical to repair. Which would be good, because it's not an easy break to fix, he said. Risks of leaving it alone include possible interference with the sciatic nerve as it heals...but that is also a risk to going in and trying to fix it. He's inclined to be conservative on this until he sees it in another X-ray.

Then, looking at the angles of her pelvic area, he suspects another break hidden in the X-rays as they were taken on Saturday. He won't know if her sacrum has a break, or whether it's fixable, until he gets in there.

If he does nothing on the left side, he says she may experience some arthritis as she gets older, among other problems that essentially limit her activity level.

He seems cautious. Has a great bedside manner. Answered all of my questions patiently. Pooka's going to have to remain crated except to go to the bathroom for two months or more. No furniture jumping, no stairs. I may have to learn to help her walk with a sling.

That's all I can remember, though my notes are more thorough. She's in pre-op now, sedation for more X-rays, before the party begins. Think good thoughts, everyone.

Oh, and I went in to see her. She was super-whiney before and after I was next to her, but quieted down when I was there touching her through the bars. She put her head against the cage and closed her eyes. She's pretty drugged up, and panting heavily, but she's definitely still Pooka.

Pooks: Listen, Lucca, you're gonna be fine. I'm here for you. I promise, this is going to get better. The whole world is pulling for you, so stay strong, sweetie.

Pooka accident update: GOOD POTTY POOKA

Just called the overnight vet, Dr. C, for an end-of-shift update. Surgeons haven't arrived yet, but she promises to stick around until they do. So no appointment for us yet.

After the last conversation before I went to bed, C. had the staff take Pooka out again with slings on her back end to try for a regular pee, as opposed to the catheter attempt. And she did it! Good girl. She's been out every 4 to 6 hrs since, and let loose a significant torrent the second time, too. As was my hunch, Pooka just really didn't want to pee in the crate, or with all those people so close to her. I really emphasized that to C., and am really glad she gave it one more go. Now that Pooks knows how the system works, she's taking full advantage. GOOD POTTY, Pooka. GOOD GIRL!

The urine is looking dark, says C, which is to be expected given the muscle damage. She says it shouldn't harm her kidneys given the amount of fluids pumping through her. But she also said she's pulled Pook's food (which she wasn't eating anyway) and water because she's optimistic that the pup will get into surgery today.

Otherwise, her body temperature is "ok," which I imagine is code for, it's been down and back to normal. No fever, though. She's responding to her name and acting like a dog, so I'm not too worried about her cute little brain right now.

Doc is focused on the positives, like the fact that her heart and lungs are functioning well, no more bleeding, etc. She sounds upbeat, and so, I must be too. Now just waiting for the surgeons to arrive. Oh, and Dr. M: they have plenty of blood product on hand in case of need for transfusion.

Pooka Lucca: Listen, hon. Today's going to be rough, but you won't remember most of it. The big docs are going to take care of you. You're going to be pretty sore after, but they'll give you some good drugs to ease the pain. You'll spend a few more days and nights in their care, but then you'll be home to rest. Treats! After the surgery, as you get better, I need you to eat a bit of their food, OK? See you in a few hours, honey. I'll be on the scene making sure it all goes well. Love you, my sweet doggie.

Pooka accident update: to pee, or not to pee

GO POTTY, POOKA.

My poor kid is whimpering in the emergency clinic right now -- I heard her over the phone -- most likely because she's got a full bladder and hasn't wanted to empty it.

Dr. C is back on shift, and I'm feeling very grateful to have met her last night and gotten a good vibe. My own dad, Dr. M, pushed me earlier today to ask whether Pooks has been peeing, as that might be a good sign that things are going well inside.

When I asked, they said, "Um, hold please." And came back a moment later with, "Actually, she hasn't. We'll go X-ray her now, call back in an hour." Not exactly the stuff that inspires great confidence. The good-ish news is that she has a full bladder, and therefore, a bladder at all. The bad news is that we don't know why she's not peeing. Could be she doesn't wanna in her kennel (duh), or with someone holding her ass up in a sling. Or could be one of any host of neurological issues. At any rate, they had planned a catheter hours ago, and now Dr. C tells me she's next.

I say, "I want you to tell me she's going to pull through this." Dr. C says, "She's going to be okay." I want to believe, and so I shall, for tonight, at least.

So, C. will catheter (though it's not as easy as Dr. L earlier made it sound), with some sedation, P. will pee. She's not eating much (duh), but they're hoping she'll eat more. Her body temp is back up from earlier, when it was low.

Here is how I think things are going to go for the next 24 hours or so: Tomorrow early in the morning, C. will hand off the case to the surgeons and get them up to speed. When I call, they will know all about Miss Pooka and schedule an appointment with me, I think. I'll come in with questions, they'll answer them, sched P. for surgery and get to fixing her back half.

I don't know what happens then.

I'm really upset. I miss my baby. She's more important to me than I could possibly have imagined. I'm restless and stressed out, and when I let myself think for a moment, I'm absolutely full of guilt and anger and sadness. The guilt and the anger are the hardest to bear. I'm superstitious. I had a bad gut feeling about the particular arrangement for the walk that resulted in P. running away and getting hit. I had dreams last week about Pooka running away. If you're reading this, you're going to tell me not to blame myself, but I can't unfeel this. I can only put it aside when it arises, again and again, until she's home and I can fill that space with more useful actions.

Pooka: Listen, sweetpea: I'm here. I'm talking to the doctors. I heard you on the phone, you poor thing. They're going to make you more comfortable. What I need now is for you to relax and believe in yourself, and your ability to heal, and not give up. They're going to do all sorts of weird stuff to you, but you're a tough girl and I know you can handle it. Soon, this part will be over and you'll be home again, safe inside our little apartment. I can't promise that I'll never leave you alone again, but I'm always going to come back. I'm going to take care of you, take care of this. You'll be home, with lots of delicious treats, and lots of love and attention. We'll come up with fun games to play in the crate, and all of your favorite humans will come and shower you with attention. And not long after that, you'll be up to your old tricks, drooling over cats and ducks and squirrels and whining for me to take you out for a walk. Hang in there, Pooka Lou, be strong.

Oh, and GO POTTY.

Sunday morning update

I called the animal hospital when I woke this morning. The nurse sounded very upbeat, said Pooka's breathing was good over night, so concerns about what's going on in her chest are starting to subside. She's in good enough shape that they plan to offer her some food this afternoon, which I take to be a good sign. I don't know much about animal recovery from massive trauma, but I'm sure about to learn.

When I had the on-call vet paged last night, was pleased to get the very supportive Dr. M, who I know pulls no punches -- he was the one who told me that if Pook's toe didn't heal after the Toenail Incident, he'd consider amputating. He spoke well of the surgery clinic she'll be admitted to tomorrow, so as long as her internal stuff stays stable, I feel confident she's in good hands.

I'm doing somewhat better today -- not much energy left for crying. I'll try to keep busy and get the house in shape, so I can focus on Pooks when she comes home later this week.

Please send love and good healing energy her way.

Pooka Accident

Friends:

Pooka was hit by a car Saturday. I was on an airplane when it happened, so I don't have all the details, but I wanted to write one big note, and hope most of you see it, rather than try to tell all at once.

She's in the animal hospital. She'll likely have surgery for various breaks in her pelvic bone and surrounding area. She's on IV fluids and pain medication, and is breathing on her own despite some bleeding or other fluid buildup around her heart and lungs.

Please send lots and lots of good thoughts her way for rest now, surgery without a hitch on Monday and a speedy recovery in the next 6 weeks or so. It can only help.