Im starting to think Vet 2 is on the autism spectrum. Hes brilliant at advanced veterinarian stuff, but he honestly has some kind of issue with reading other peoples emotions and with good timing. He whipped out Murphys necropsy samples without preparing me first (dude, really?) and, well, fortunately, Ive seen worse things and it does help me to process the loss to see, physically, what was going on. To back track, Murphy was misdiagnosed with possible lymphoma and/or ulcers, and given steroids and anti-ulcer meds. His labs/scans/bloodwork/fecal exams didnt indicate what his problem was. He also had a cavity (infected tooth) and his tonsils got inflamed. He lost weight rapidly. Vet 2 said today that I did my job, I did what I should, I didnt let Murphy down. He said he and Vet 1 let Murphy down. It wasnt my fault, it was their fault. However, Murphy was an anomaly because what was really killing him (besides not eating enough) wasnt showing itself. They missed that he had adrenal disease. Wait, what? He had none of the symptoms of adrenal disease (aggressiveness, engorged genitals, difficulty urinating, fur loss/baldness, wobbly gait, etc.). His labs didnt show adrenal. His scans didnt show adrenal. His behavior didnt indicate adrenal. Vet 2 said he and Vet 1 both failed Murphy because they didnt think to give him a shot of Lupron and then observe him. Thing is, as devastated as I am, I have to admit that Murphy had NO outward signs of adrenal disease. It wasnt until the necropsy that Vet 2 found the left adrenal gland was, indeed, showing early signs of the disease, and his liver indicated that he wasnt absorbing any vital nutrition even with tube feeding. The Lupron would still be competing with an infected tooth, so who knows if it would have helped, but generally you dont prescribe meds for things youre not convinced an animal actually has. I knew it wasnt insulinoma, because I recognize blood sugar-based illnesses in ferrets now, and sweetened ferret vitamins didnt perk him up instantly. (A dab of honey would work, too.) I dont know how to home-test for cancer. His scans looked clean but Vet 1 wanted to be sure, as there were ambiguous areas. His labs were clean. The prednisolone and ulcer meds just made his tooth worse, unfortunately. Brought in the wooden casket-urn the cremains of Woozle and Koosh are in, and he told me that he doesnt use Good Shepherd anymore because he tested the cremains his patients owners got back, as well as putting coins in animals sent out, and what came back wasnt the animals he sent out. So maybe there are no cremains in the casket at all. They sealed the lid on—despite me saying not to so I could put some of their toys inside—with acrylic polymer of some sort. Saw Murphy. It helped that he looked peaceful, and had even gained a little weight. He may have gone quietly in his sleep. He and the wooden urn are going to an actual funeral parlor (that handles people, mostly). They will, I hope, open the old urn, verify its not actually full of potting soil, trash, or backyard dirt, then put all three animals cremains in one casket. This was what Vet 2 recommended rather than using Good Shepherd, which he no longer trusts. I just said that as long as they considered my poverty, Id be okay with this plan. (I dont bury because I dont own the land and hope not to be here permanently anyway. I made an exception for a roommate-co-owned cat, as my former roommates parents have a lovely garden and own the property.) Vet 2 says that my prompt and then daily efforts to get vitamins and calories in Murphy—once he stopped eating his kibble because his tooth hurt—prolonged his life, but he was not absorbing enough groceries to survive long-term. That, he said, wasnt my fault. Giving Murphy the meds he was erroneously prescribed wasnt my fault. I took him back in twice when they werent helping him quickly enough, and Vet 1 still missed the infected tooth and adrenal. I called and asked if I could taper off the steroids since they just irritated his tummy, so I asked the right questions, they just missed another opportunity to diagnose him correctly. I didnt delay or deny vet care, no matter how financially hard on me it was, or how much financial help I had to beg for. (Vet 2 has chosen not to charge me for many, many days of boarding, meds, tube feeding, food/fluids, grooming/bathing/etc., sanitation/biohazard disposal and so on, so I just paid for stuff like the exams and CBC/labs/tests. So that was tactful, though still pricey.) Still sad. Wanted some comfort from animals, so I went to a pet store. No, I wasnt ready to buy or adopt. I just hoped to hold something warm and fuzzy. They had no ferrets in stock, but they had shelter kitties on display. One was a grouchy cross-eyed Siamese boy, and I didnt take his pissiness personally. There was a female tuxedo cat who purred, shed, and made biscuits on my chest, and I felt better. A little boy saw me holding some of the little animals like the guinea pigs (I got nibbled...my finger isnt a carrot, guys) and dwarf hamsters. He was scared of the rodents at first but after I told him just to be slow, calm and gentle, because the little creatures are fragile and easily scared, he cautiously dared to gently pet a hamster and the friendly cat Id cuddled earlier, and he was so proud of his own daring. That helped me feel better, too. He was suddenly cognizant that tiny animals have feelings, and not to take it personally if they prefer to sleep rather than run on their wheel, or if they need a break from being picked up by humans, for instance. The hamsters arent looking at him funny, theyre just looking in his general direction, without malice (well, teddybear hamsters are assholes, but baby dwarf hamsters have brains the size of English garden peas, if that, and are actually hard-pressed not to poop near their bed or food because they are practically barely-sentient dryer lint). It helped to say goodbye to Murphy and see he looked like he was sleeping easily, not in any pain. It helped to hold other animals and to encourage respect and affection for them in a little kid (probably 7-9 years old). He came in wanting to see puppies, and scared of the rodents, and left understanding (albeit vaguely) why we adopt dogs from shelters, not pet stores or mills, and that little fuzzy creatures arent scary at all, theyre soft and kind of cute. I showed him how to pet animals in the direction their fur grows, and the cat rewarded him by purring—he did well. I dont know if this is a local quirk or not, but most PofCs locally arent into anything beyond dogs, maybe cats, and fish/birds as pets. Some of my former PofC friends/roommates/co-workers have been appalled by even the idea of reptile or rodent pets, and they couldnt be convinced ferrets were not rodents. This child was really being very brave to look at the hamsters and pet rats. So, good for him. Maybe one day hell get a gerbil or something. I plan to call the Humane Society and ask them to let me know when new abandoned ferrets come in. When Im ready. Maybe Im going to be ready for a little shelter cat again soon, too.
Posted on: Sat, 12 Apr 2014 01:23:25 +0000
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