Myrna first brought in Lady back in 04 when the pup was 6
months old. She had some itchy eyes from allergies or from the oppressive wind
that blows its brains out every day in the summer around here, or both. That
one was easy, and the drops helped. Two weeks later, I spayed the young Lady,
and then I didn’t see her again until summer of 09.
Sometimes when the females have been spayed they begin
leaking a bit of urine in their sleep. They tell me this happens often in the
physicians’ patients, and we certainly see this in some of ours. It’s more
common in the larger breeds, and it shows up more often as these girls age a
bit. Lady was a German shepherd, and now she was 5 years old, so she fit the
profile. We have meds that usually stop the leak, but most often this is a life
long deal, so the meds go on forever. They are not resoundingly expensive,
these meds, but one person’s pocket change can be another’s small fortune.
Myrna has a fortune in good spirit, but she’s not what ya
might call wealthy in the traditional sense. She did find a way to pay for
continuous meds, for Lady was an indoor dog, and that was just that. But it
clearly wasn’t easy for her. Myrna lives alone, having been widowed some time
ago. She has adult children, and some young adult grandchildren, but it is
mostly a few friends who help her out. Myrna doesn’t like to talk about it, but
it seems that her children and grandchildren steal from her from time to time,
which is the kind of help she doesn’t need.
So a year later, when Lady began having trouble with her
anus, well that’s when things got real tough.
The condition is called perianal fistulas. These are rather
large holes that erupt in the tender skin around the anus. Deep under the skin
a problem arises, an inflammation that becomes a pocket of yuck and this
eventually burrows out to the surface, breaks open, and then you have a hole
you can stick a finger in, which discharges mung and fungu and various bloody
pussy stinky sticky substances. Forever.
Perianal fistulas hurt. They hurt when you poop. They hurt
when you sit. They hurt when you lick yourself, if you are the dog. For the
owner, they stink, they leave stuff all over everything, and they make you hurt
for your dog. They often accompany chronic diarrhea, for reasons we don’t
really need to consider here. They happen mostly to German shepherds. And of
course it was happening to Lady.
So for the owner there is cleaning that must be done, to the
dog and to the house. Cleaning of awful stuff. This presents a problem to any
owner. It provided an even more difficult problem for Myrna.
Oh, did I mention that Myrna is blind? Yeah, totally blind.
Myrna needed to clean Lady’s painful bloody stinky pussy shit covered anus
without being able to see it. And she would smell the diarrhea, and she would
go find it in her house, on her hands and knees, and she’d call to tell my just
how bad it was that day after doing a digital appraisal. And no, her family was
not helping.
The doctors know that perianal fistulas show up due to some
crazy hiccup in a dog’s immune system, for when we are successful using the
drugs that suppress the immune system, some of these dogs get better. But this
condition has expensive tastes, preferring only the most costly
immunosuppressive drugs. The best choice is an oral med that costs multiple
hundreds of dollars a month to maintain a shepherd size dog. We also do better
when we can restrict the dog’s diet, since food sensitivities also may be a
trigger for the disease, and thus we need to try the expensive foods, too.
Myrna vowed to find a way to pay for all this. We shopped
around for the best prices, and since I’m the boss, I cheated myself by letting
Myrna buy these things from me at just about my cost. I don’t even want to know
what Myrna cut out of her spartan lifestyle to support her beloved dog.
Sometimes I’m a sucker that way.
Lady couldn’t tolerate the oral meds. She vomited, and even
when we gave it the time you need to try before you finally give up on that
med, she still threw it up.
So drug choice number two was ordered, an expensive cream
made from a different but similar drug that is rubbed into the skin around the
anus twice a day. This one we got through a pharmacy, so I had no way to
subsidize the cost. This did work, and eventually Myrna started getting it
through some Canadian pharmacy, and this brought down the cost to merely
backbreaking. And Lady did much better. The sores never completely healed, but
much of the stench and yuck went away, and this little blind lady was able to
keep things tolerable for three years.
One morning a couple of months ago, Myrna called asking
about arthritis drugs, for Lady was having trouble getting up. Myrna needed to
borrow friends and cars and other people’s time to bring Lady in, so we decided
to try something simple, a drug that wouldn’t conflict with the ones that were
keeping Lady’s anus tolerable, and I postponed that chance to examine her. And
the drug seemed to help, although at least one of the grandchildren was
stealing them for his own use. Apparently, it’s easy to steal from a trusting
little old blind lady if you are truly scum.
The second phone call came some weeks later. A leg was
swollen and Lady couldn’t use it at all, and the big sinking feeling settled
into my gut. This time we needed to take a look.
The tumor was almost softball size, tucked in behind the
knee, hidden under the hair, hard to spot when you are blind and you mostly
concentrated on the anus. All those parasitic offspring folks who should have
seen this, never noticed.
I tried a few things to help Lady stay comfortable, but not
long later Myrna and I came to the wall where we knew we had to stop. She
wanted to remain with Lady when I did the last part of my job. The injection
went smoothly, and Lady slipped into sleep and out of life. And since Myrna
couldn’t see what was happening, I needed to tell her when this all happened.
And then all that was left was the grieving.
Perhaps Myrna had more pent up inside that just the loss of
her precious Lady. Certainly, from outside looking in it seemed to me she had
that right. After Lady breathed her last, Myrna let some of it go, and it
filled my hospital and took with it all of us here. Myrna’s heart was truly
broken. There was nothing we could do save to hug her and try to convey our own
sadness.
So no, I couldn’t fix that, either.
yes - thank you.
ReplyDeleteWhat a sad, sweet story.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, and such a great representation of the emotions we vest in both our patients and our clients. Well done.
ReplyDelete