Wednesday, February 23, 2011

I'm doing OK

Thank you Julie, Candy, and Kat(by phone) for your kind words. I think I'm just about cried out now, although I still reserve the right to become weepy without notice for a while.

Boomie had another grand mal seizure early Saturday morning, and soon after that, we started him on another medication which left him unable to walk or even to sit up. And he was still having little seizures every few minutes. For a while, I wondered if the side effects might diminish after a few days, leaving him a little more functional. But how long might that take, and how long until the next big seizure broke through? By Saturday night, I knew that Boomie was not going to get better. My family didn't agree right away, but on Sunday I told them to really look at him. I called the vet's office and made the appointment to bring Boomie in on Monday.

I didn't give him his meds that morning. I was willing to risk another big seizure for the chance to have him a little more "alive" before we said goodbye. But even without the drugs, (and he didn't have another seizure,) I knew he was ready. And I was too. But as the doctor injected the euthanasia drugs, and I sat holding his head and petting him, I wasn't prepared for how fast he would slip away.

In spite of my grief, I feel relief that Boomie is no longer suffering, and he had only a few really bad days at the end. He had a good life up until then, beating the odds for cancer survival, and even growing old, as a beloved pet should. And for that, I feel grateful, even satisfied. I could not have asked for anything more from him.

I have been going through all my pictures of Boomie, and will probably post some soon.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Friday, February 18, 2011

Weathering storms of one kind and another

It's raining tonight. We are cozy in the house. We had good homemade soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. There was soft light, and there was music (at least until Jerry turned on the TV, anyway). But overall, a feeling of calm amid the storm. The dogs are snoozing comfortably. Marley is on the love-seat. Boomie is sprawled across his memory-foam bed, finally relaxed now that his storm has passed. The one in his brain.

Boomie has been having seizures. He's had 3 grand mal seizures. The first one was last Tuesday. Then another two days later. We got him on medication, and for a week we saw only little "spells". Lots of them, but they would come and go in just a few seconds. His head would wobble, or he would fall down, but he would pop right back up like nothing happened.

Slowly, over the last few days, the spells seemed to come fewer and farther apart. Was the medication working? Part of me hoped it was, while the other part of me imagined Boomer's brain like an earthquake fault. Maybe those little tremors were helping to take the pressure off of the straining tectonic plates. Maybe without them, the pressure would continue to build until another "big one" hit. And then it did, today.

A powerful storm. A brain quake of a dangerous magnitude. He shook violently. He frothed at the mouth. Every muscle clenched and strained. When it was over, he was confused, almost frantic. He tried to run, but his legs didn't work. He wanted me to hold him, but he couldn't sit still.

It took over an hour, maybe two, until the aftermath of Boomie's storm had fully passed. Then, he was ready to gobble down his supper. I took him out in the rain to do his business, holding him by his harness with one hand and holding the umbrella with the other. We made it back inside before the hard rain started.

Inside, all is calm for now. Boomie is at ease. Tomorrow we will try adding a different medication. It might buy us a little time. I'm grateful that Boomie doesn't know what "time" means. He only knows "now". Now he is comfy and warm with his family on a rainy night.