Tuesday, July 21, 2020

Sunny’s not well

Sunny hasn’t been well since before her teeth were removed, but it’s been episodic and inconsistent since then: Sometimes she’s absolutely normal, other times she’s obviously unwell. Back and forth, seldom unwell longer than a day, and sometimes only part of one.

I took her to the vet, and they’re doing some tests. Among other things, they say that it could be related to her heart disease (her mitral valve). The blood tests will help narrow the diagnosis, and it may be that heart medication would help her by easing her symptoms and prolonging her life—well, that last one is more what would be good for me, but still.

We knew when she was still quite young that she had a heart murmur, and now that she’s in the equivalent of being in her 70s in human years, the “defect” is starting to matter. She won’t be long-lived, but she still could have some good years. Anyway, that’s all something to think about another day, when I know more.

It’s been a very difficult time over the past six weeks, more or less, since her surgery. At first, she struggled with dry food (I assume because she tried chewing with her gums, which must’ve been painful). I tried working with her diet to find something she could eat, and I eventually did, though the periodic upset “down there” kept returning, usually after several days in which she was perfectly normal—including even playing games with Leo or me.

While the vet tries to work out what, if anything, I can do to help her, in the meantime I have “sensitive” food for her, which hopefully may be easier to for to digest (or eliminate normally…). I have no idea if she’ll even like it, and it’s very expensive, but I owe it to her to try it.

This is an evolving story, and without any certainty, including about how it will play out, or how long. All that’s been bothering me, of course, and showing up in unusual ways. For example, it’s time to renew her dog registration, but I’ve been putting it off because of the irrational fear that doing so might make her check-out. I suppose that’s mainly because everything’s been out of my control, and in such circumstances it’s easy to focus on the silly and paranoid—and especially because I'm alone, and she's one of my ties to the life I had with Nigel.

Right now, she’s not in any pain, she’s not usually in any discomfort, and her quality of life is still good—for several days each week, at least. That’s what I’m focusing on. Because right now it’s all I can do.


Roger Owen Green said...

Sorry. I know the oral surgery was no fun for either of you. And now this. Best wishes.

Arthur Schenck said...

Thanks. As with everything else these days, one day at a time.