Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Will he die...

The other day I heated up some less-than-economical preservative free stew.  The container was two servings.  I put them in two dishes.  After eating one helping, I put the cover onto the empty dish and placed it in the refrigerator.  The full dish went into the sink with all the other dirty dishes.  I discovered my mistake only after I started in on the sink full of dirty dishes and noticed bits of stew floating around.

Two lessons I have failed to teach Amos: 1) to stop vigorously defending his territory when anything crosses in front of our house (I actually prefer the notification but believe rather strongly about 5 seconds is long enough.  Amos disagrees.); and 2) to "drop" or "give" his baby when playing fetch.  I have, quite successfully, taught Amos to take his monthly heart worm and flea prevention pill without question.

Amos has been exceedingly accommodating to my ever-changing sleeping and comforting-in-my-misery needs.  In return, no matter how much I am struggling, I try to feed Amos between 5 and 6 in the morning.  And I have also moved a second bowl of water into the bedroom.  When I get up to fetch ice packs or Ginger ale or medication and Amos waits on me, I will often bring him back 2 or 3 peanuts as a reward.  He has learned that when I turn off the white noise sound machines, my Sleep Mate, it is time actually get out of bed.

Yesterday was a rough innards day.  Last night was a rough innards night.  This early morning was still a rough innards time.

Just as I have worked hard to keep Amos' meals on a schedule, I have worked to keep my own medication on a schedule.  I am far, far better at the former than the latter.  But my morning medication is my most consistent dose.

This morning, I fetched new ice packs, three peanuts, and my three morning medications: baby aspirin, Loestrin, and 200mg of Celebrex.  As I always do, I put the peanuts on the bed before Amos and reached for my water to take my pills.  Only what I had left in my hand were the peanuts.  Amos, being an obedient puppy, had eaten the pills I placed before him.

I cannot imagine getting through the days I face without that fluffy, white, affectionate shadow.  I cannot.

Hysterical, I Googled.  The treatment it seems would be to give him three tablespoons of hydrogen peroxide to induce vomiting.  I just couldn't bring myself to do that or imagine how I even could get him to consume it.  I was hysterical because there would be no scooping up my beloved puppy and racing him to a veterinarian.  Some time between his 6:00 AM feeding and my 12:00 PM stumbling to get my own medication, the clouds dumped copious amounts of snow here.

I found several places where it was recommended to give him activated charcoal and then Pepcid for a few days.  I gave him first one and then another of my activated charcoal capsules.  The second one was because I was so worried about his 22.5 lb body (that I suspect is actually a tad bit heavier) having such a large dose of Celebrex.  I do not have Pecid here, but I do have Tums.  Apparently, breeders give dogs Tums for the calcium.

Weeping, I curled my body around Amos until I calmed down enough to call Bettina and ask her to pray for my puppy.  Mostly, I am so terrified now, I have no tears.  Will he die?

I do not know how long it will be until I know if his kidneys and/or liver will fail.  I do not know how long it will be until I know if his stomach was damaged and he is bleeding from an ulcer.  I do not know how long it will be until I know if he is going to die.

Will he die?

I make so very many mistakes.  Despite the signs, I leave the oven and stove on, the refrigerator and freezer doors open, and the front and back doors unlocked (the latter oft standing wide open when I come down in the early morning).  I forget so much, the blankness in my mind greater than the clarity of even the recent past.  I thought I had taken my medication.  I thought I was handing him a reward.

Did I hand him his death?

I fainted six times trying to shovel the walk.  The car and street around it are still buried.  I am so weak and tremulous that I can barely move.  All I can do is wait.

And pray.

Lord, have mercy.  Christ, have mercy.  Lord, have mercy.


Sandra Ostapowich said...

I will also pray for Amos. I have a feeling he'll be just fine and the medication will pass through his system quickly and he'll be no worse for the wear. Celebrex and aspirin will thin his blood a bit (like they do in humans), so be careful that he doesn't get cut or something. But (I believe) some vets actually prescribe NSAIDs, like Celebrex, to dogs for their own arthritis problems.

Myrtle said...

Thank you. I appreciate your prayers. The danger is the substantial overdose. The long-term effect will not be known for a while.