There I said it. Unbelievable, huh? My emotions have swung from lowest of low to highest of high in this time of crisis. I was reeling and dealing with letting go of my buddy. In my entire life I've never had the privilege of owning a dog that lived passed the age of 3. I'm talking about my own dogs, not the family dog I grew up with who lived a good long life. Rusty is 7 or 8 so you have to know how close we've become. Add to that the fact that I live alone and, well, there you have it. We're tight.
I've actually put off sharing this incredible good news because I've been so overwhelmed with it. I know what you're thinking, "How could such a devastating diagnosis be so....off?" Well, through my mist in my eyes our vet finished my question when I attempted to ask him. This was his reply: "They didn't make a mistake. Without the echo cardiogram I just performed, the symptoms they observed did mimic the diagnosis they gave you." He went on, "Does he have a big heart? Yes....but it is at the high end of normal for his skeletal frame. Actually, it shows you've done a great job walking him all his life!" (Shhhh, no, I didn't confess his lack of walks these last three months due to re-injuring my replaced knee. Seriously?)
I lost it then, the tears brimming my eyes gently trickled down as I choked out, "Thank you so much." He continued, "That's the good news. He does have some concerns, though. He still does have his heart murmur. This is because he has a larger leak in his mitral valve and a much smaller leak in his tricuspid valve. He should be watched the rest of his life for enlargement possibilities of these leaks and medicated as needed. In addition, see these cloudy circles in his lungs? From what you've told me of his history , I'd say he has "lower airway disease" which is caused by allergies. Rusty feels like he has chronic bronchitis, which is why you took him to the ER with labored breathing and which explains that you've told me he doesn't dance around so much anymore."
In the end, we were able to leave with instructions to cease the heart medication and the diuretic. They were replaced with an antibiotic to clear up those bacterial clouds in his lungs and a bronchodilator. We also left with orders to lose the two pounds he's gained since my inability to walk him. Busted. So I shared with the nice vet my walking dilemma. His suggestion was to search craigslist for a cast off treadmill. Duh. But visions of my HGTV plum and latte bedroom haven began declining in status in my mind's eye. (Maybe a tall "hide-the-treadmill screen?)
Sometimes life's losses, like a career, and its disappointments are heaped so close together we begin to despair. There is a psychiatric term, dysthymia, that describes this despair. "Hopeless and helpless." Too much, too soon in between. But, in an instant, that despair can cease. In my world it can be turned around with an abundance of prayer. I believe that is what has happened in this crisis this time. I prayed, threw in a little creative crowd funding and dear friends, old friends, and all of those in between dug deep and donated to my ability to better diagnose and treat Rusty so he could live a productive pooch's life. He will continue to do his tricks for the hospitals and assisted living facilities we visit, and he will continue to provide me with his special talents and the awesome oxytocin looking into his smile brings forth. Thank you deeply and immensely my friends. In my little corner of the world your thoughtfulness has encouraged me and made me feel so much that, even though unemployed for a year now....I still matter. And as long as I keep giving in my little ways, life will continue to be good. Very good indeed. I may have less, but I have enough.
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