Blood Work, Veterinary Neurology Recheck, and Rude People

There is a rant brewing about something that happened at the veterinary hospital today with a fellow dog owner, but for now … let’s only focus on Lilly’s recovery status. A tiny bit of potentially scary news today.

Lilly and I left the house at 9:30 am for our 10:30 am “drop-off” appointment. It’s how the veterinary neurology team squeezes in more patients in an already-packed schedule. The need far exceeds capacity.

So, Lilly gets to see the doctor (in the back), but I don’t because there aren’t enough exam rooms and isn’t enough time.

I wait, rather than drop her off, because that time is lost anyway with a one-hour drive each way making coming back home silly. Essentially, we show up at the allotted time, and they get to us just as soon as they can. When weather allows, Lilly waits in the car.

Mondays can be dicey since they are often full of new clients with neurology emergencies that cropped up over the weekend.

The team got to Lilly around noon, and we were on our way around 12:45 pm. So, about a 2 hour wait, give or take.

We got home about 2 pm, so door to door … we ate up 4 1/2 hours today. Lilly drank a bunch of water and sacked out as soon as we got home.

Today, Lilly had:

A complete neurological exam
A complete blood count (CBC) drawn to make sure the 36-hour cycle of chemo / powerful anti-inflammatory drugs while hospitalized didn’t screw anything up
A potassium bromide level (anti-seizure med) drawn to see if she is at (or still above) therapeutic levels
A cylcosporine level (her strong immune mediator med) to make sure she is at therapeutic levels on her current dose

The cyclosporine levels take the longest to come back. The neuro team will overnight the blood sample to Auburn University for testing. Either way, we should have all the data back by our real sit-down recheck appointment next week.

The only real good news I have is that Lilly is walking a lot better today. Until she got so tired, she looked pretty bright and alert. The team is very happy with her progress … considering she was nearly coma-like and could not move at all 10 days ago.

I can only imagine how skinny she really was in the hospital, but Lilly remains about 2 1/2 pounds below what I consider her ideal weight. Her ribs, hips, spine show through her coat, and her butt muscles look at least 50% of normal. Late last week, we began doubling her food intake, so we’ll hope to see her closer to normal by next week’s appointment.

We take tiny walks around our property (like 50 feet), but I often have to carry her back to the house because she gets so tired.

Over the weekend, I had a long conversation with our neurologist about my hopes to add both nutritional support (via a board-certified veterinary nutritionist) and maybe acupuncture (from a certified veterinarian) into Lilly’s new recovery plan. At least one “super food” idea has been nixed because it has the potential to cause trouble with Lilly’s sodium levels, which could really screw up her anti-seizure medicine.

So, my rule for complementary therapies will be that I will NOT add anything that adversely affects something that’s working well. I will do what I can to support her general wellness without amping up her immune system (which is the problem) and without screwing anything up.

Honestly, I’m not sure I can afford to add the costs of regular acupuncture (weekly at $90 a pop), but we’ll see … once I have a better idea of how Lilly’s conventional treatment will go.

And there, friends, lies the potentially scary news from today. Depending on how Lilly’s blood tests come back and how she looks next week, we may need to give her (via sub-cutaneous injection at the hosptal) the chemo / powerful anti-inflammatory drug TWO days in a row EVERY three weeks.

For reasons I’ll explain in the forthcoming rant later this week, that’s about all I know about that potential MAJOR change in her treatment plan.

There are about 1,000 reasons that idea freaks me out, but when I can get more information, maybe it isn’t as bad as it seems.

Alas, since it’s a chemo drug, it likely is NOT something I can have at home and learn to give her myself.

Why this new aggressive stance?

Well, according to our neurologist (from this weekend’s conversation), Lilly’s immune system has “set up camp.”

Before, we approached her treatment as support through a fleeting bout of immune-driven inflammation following the rabies vaccine.

Now, we need to respond as if the inflammation is potentially a new normal. It’s as if the vaccine turned something on, and so far … it has NOT turned off.

***

Lilly is improving. That’s important. The neuro team has ideas on how to prevent another massive relapse. That’s really important since this one nearly killed her. Perhaps some day she will fully recover. That’s the most important, but at this stage … no one has said if that’s possible.

We’re as bucked up as a couple of girls can be, with Lilly’s small improvements in mobility and (tiny, rare) potty control. We even slept for 4 straight hours last night. The most in a week.

As always, thanks for your love and support. Stay tuned.

Follow Us