March 5, 2021

The Infection: Part 4

Overnight Sunday, it rained a ton, which melted a lot of the snow...except on the barn's winding uphill gravel driveway, which, after two weeks of trucks going up and down it, had coalesced into 2" thick ice.

Despite being completely mentally frazzled by this point, I somehow had the presence of mind to think "I'm going to want a picture of this driveway for the blog" #dedicatedhorseblogger

I had borrowed my former trainer's 2500 to get Aeres to Centaur, and it barely made it up the icy driveway, so I knew going down would be a challenge. It was going to get well above freezing that day and would be thoroughly melted by Tuesday, but Aeres needed to go to Centaur NOW. Waiting was not an option.

I texted my former trainer who had the brilliant idea to take some of the mag we had stacked in the indoor for use on the footing and salt the driveway with it.

How convenient, a literal wall of ice melt

It was while I was spreading salt on the driveway that I finally cried for the first time throughout this whole thing. I fell hard on my ass, unable to keep my footing on the icy hill, and the tears came - not because I was hurt, but because it was so damn frustrating that after keeping this sick horse alive for four straight days and spending every moment of every day worrying about her, I was 45 minutes away from handing her off to the best vets in the state, if only I could get her down the driveway!

In the end, the mag melted enough of the ice to where we could get down, and also my former trainer came out to drive the rig down the driveway for me. Truth be told, I was so mentally spazzed at this point I could barely think straight, but also, it was her truck, and I'd rather her be the one to bury it into the fenceline than me, if it came to that.

Ended up being a great, if unwanted, opportunity to see how a 3/4 ton handled the World's Tiniest Horse Trailer. Verdict: much better than my 2005 half ton, but surprisingly not as well as my 2018 half ton. HD truck suspensions are intended for much heavier loads than the World's Tiniest Horse Trailer, while the WTHT is squarely in the middle of what my half ton is capable of towing. Not that it did poorly, it just wasn't quite as planted at interstate speeds.
 

During the 45 minute drive to Centaur, I called my mom, who was, at the same moment, driving to University of Illinois' veterinary hospital to put her African Grey down due to cancer at an extremely young age for a Grey. I was supposed to be there for that, but I had my own shitty college vet appointment to go to. Like mother, like daughter, at the worst possible moment, but always there for our pets til the end <3

After four hours of waiting in the truck and peeing in my horse trailer because I couldn't go inside (real talk) (thanks COVID), the vet finally came out to talk to me. Everything about her was normal past the tongue - swallowing reflex was normal if they shot water into the back of her mouth, no fever, gut motility was great.

So Centaur's best guess was that there was a foreign body in her tongue, and although the vet put on a confident air with me, my vet told me later that when the two vets talked, the Centaur vet was just as stumped as he was. She needed either a CT scan ($1,500) or an MRI ($3,000) to see what was going on in there, my choice. I chose CT scan in consultation with Lisa after they told me both would provide the type of data they needed equally well.

I was accepted into this prestigious program at work and should have been in California this week for the annual conference, but of course it was virtual this year. They asked us to share selfies on Day 1 and I was like "Ok, you asked for it, bringing my whole self to work!" At least I specialize in work from home software, so this whole post (and our anywhere/anytime/any device slogan) is just one big advertisement for my products.


And that's when they informed me their CT scanner at Centaur was in the process of being replaced, and I would have to haul her to either Purdue or Rood and Riddle. Purdue was just under two hours from there and R&R was just over two hours, so I chose Purdue, not wanting to prolong what had to have been a miserable trailer ride for Aeres any longer than I had to.


I know it's a gas 2500. It says HEMI on the side. But I still texted her before filling it up to double check because putting gas in a diesel truck would have been par for the f****** course this week.

After another two hours of waiting in the truck while they got fluids into her and did paperwork, and then a two hour drive, I got her to Purdue main campus at 5:06pm on Monday afternoon, where they gave her supportive care overnight (still no fever!) and planned to put her under for the CT first thing in the morning. It was the first time in five days I felt my anxiety subside, knowing I was no longer solely responsible for getting her through this.

...to be continued

18 comments:

  1. My heart goes out to you! I know how you feel, although I've never been in quite that extreme of a situation. There must have been a huge sense of relief to hand her care over to the vets. It's harder in some ways when you don't own the horse. You might not have the same emotional attachment as you do with your own horse but the weight of responsibility is enormous. Glad to know you and Aeres pulled through in the end.

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    1. This is a really astute observation. We're still in the middle of this (ugh) so I haven't had time to sit down and think about it all, but it would definitely be easier if it was Connor as much as I don't want anything to happen to him. I feel so awful for the other two parties involved as it is, and every decision is not entirely mine to make (even though Lisa 100% trusts me to make every decision on my own, and likewise she's my "if you can't reach me and Connor needs authorization for emergency medical stuff, call this person".

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  2. UGH! So sorry for your mom's loss.
    And double ugh for having to travel to a second facility. The cliffhanger though...

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    1. Thank you, I know she's reading these comments and appreciates it. Losing a talking bird that should live for 60 years at the age of 12 is so much harder than losing like a dog, having been through both. You get used to this constant soundtrack of background chatter and the silence is just deafening when you come home.

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  3. As someone who lives a (unreliable) ferry ride from the vet these posts and your feelings of being stuck getting help resonate in a big way. I'm so sorry you had to add that to the already stressful situation of a sick Aeres. Love that you had such a great support network helping you two.

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    1. My support network has really, REALLY come through, it's so true. And I can't imagine living far from vets, and have a lot of admiration for what those of you that do live a ferry ride away from a vet are capable of on your own.

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  4. still on the edge of my seat reading. Jeezus nothing was easy!! How many iterations of this story do we have omg so much detail. I am so sorry about your mom's African Grey too. So sad! :( I lost a parakeet to cancer (he had it in his body a huge lump that affected his ability to perch which is when we put him to sleep) and everyone kept saying its just a parakeet why take it to a vet.SMH Birds are lovely animals so hugs to her and you both on that loss :(

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    1. Would you believe this story still isn't finished writing itself? I just haven't caught you guys up to the present day yet. And yeah, they're never "just birds". Having been through losing both, I find losing a bird much harder than losing a dog or cat. It's so hard to come back to a quiet house.

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  5. Hugs to your mom! I am so sorry she lost her Grey so young :(

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    1. Thank you! It's so hard. She was supposed to be in her will <3

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  6. We spent HOURS plowing out my farm drive so I could get a trailer out for exactly a case like this, only to have it melt then refreeze into a skating rink. Horses only need to go the horse hospital in the worst weather conditions.

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    1. No kidding. Hope your case ended up better than mine, which is unfortunately still ongoing as we speak.

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  7. You must be exhausted! Typing this out to share make you feel like you are reliving every moment. Thank you for sharing it. My fingers are crossed for Aeres.

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    1. It definitely does, and it has honestly helped me process it. I'm not sharing it on social media yet, so being able to talk through it on here is helping. I am exhausted - Friday night I got five total hours of sleep as a result of all this, and then last night after some good news I slept for 10.5 straight hours!

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  8. Wow - how stressful to have to trailer down an icy laneway and to two different vet hospitals. Sorry you are going through all of this.

    And sorry to your Mom on the loss of the grey.

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    1. Thank you, and yeah. I am not one to throw a pity party for myself, but dang if it hasn't been "whatever can go wrong, will go wrong" with this whole adventure so far.

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