The
Beginning of Bubba
It was the
summer of 1992 when the Perfect Gentleman first crossed
my path, literally.
As I
approached a red light near the Burbank Airport
(California) there he was...crossing the street. On a
green light, of course, and walking in the crosswalk. I
was impressed.
His head
held high, this dog walked with determination. He was
going somewhere!
As he
crossed in front of my car, a ray of sunshine beamed off
his metal dog tag and right into my eyes.
My heart
skipped a beat, it was a sign! That's because I had
implemented a new rule for myself: I would only stop for
strays if they had a tag.
You see,
strays were always walking into my life and as a newlywed
I knew I had to stop bringing dogs home or soon I would
have no home.
My newfound
reasoning was that if a dog had a tag then he had an
owner. It would be simple:
Pick
up dog.
Call number on tag.
Return pooch.
Feel good.
I was
wrong.
As Bubba
walked down Victory Blvd. I raced ahead and pulled my car
over.
As I got a
better look at him, I realized this dog was on a
mission....his four paws kept a fast and steady pace, his
small brown eyes fixed straight ahead, he would have
walked right by me had I not called him.
He
approached very slowly....his brown eyes questioning
me.
Who
are you?
Do I know you?
Do you know me?
I slowly
reached down to pet him as I gently reassured him I meant
no harm. His dog tag read "Bubba".
Hi
Bubba.
The sound
of his name brought an immediate reaction. I had answered
his question. His tail began to wag, he let his guard
down and you could see the tension in him
ease.
Hi
Bubba. It's okay, boy.
You know
me! You know me!
Yes,
Bubba-Dog.
Finally,
someone recognized me!
I don't know who you are
but if you know me then it must be
okay.
And with
that, the Perfect Gentleman jumped into the back seat and
off into our future we rode.
Bubba's tag
told me his owner's name was Candace and that she lived
in Hollywood, a good 10 miles away.
As I drove,
a panting and seemingly exhausted Bubba laying down in
the back seat, I looked at my hands and they were black
from petting him.
Poor boy, I
thought, he must have been walking for a long time.
My mother
lived close by and I would take him there. Bubba could
have some water and eat something while I called Candace
to make arrangements to reunite them and this labor of
love would be resolved in an hour or so.
Wrong
again.
When we got
to my mother's, Bubba quickly devoured an entire package
of ham slices, the only thing I had to give him, and I
could tell he hadn't eaten in a long time.
Okay boy,
let's see that tag of yours and get you back to your mom.
The
number you are dialing has been
disconnected and there is no new
number.
Okay, not
good.
Candace
must have moved. To the Valley. That's why Bubba was in
Burbank. She moved, he got lost and was trying to return
to his Hollywood address.
That's it.
That has to be it.
Since he
was dirty, tired and hungry I figured he must have
walking for days. That would have been enough time to put
an ad in the paper.
O.K.,
Mr. Bubba, you stay here.
Be a good boy, I'm going to buy the paper
so I can get you back home.
And soon all will be well.
The Perfect
Gentleman seemed to understand and off I went.
And then I
heard it.
The most
heart-wrenching, bloodcurdling cry that one can
imagine.
I ran to
the side gate to see what had happened and what I saw,
and heard, remains with me still.
The Perfect
Gentleman sat leaning against the house, his head poised
straight to the sky as if talking to someone higher up,
as he cried.
And cried.
And cried and cried some more.
I had never
seen or heard anything like it.
It was the
sound of a heart breaking into pieces.
It was the
wail of a gentle soul pleading for help.
It was the
echo of love lost, wanting desperately to be found
again.
Bubba,
it's okay, boy.
You'll be home soon, I promise.
Don't cry, Bubba.
Please don't cry.
I rushed
out to buy the paper and there was nothing.
No one, it
appeared, was looking for the Perfect Gentleman. But the
Perfect Gentleman was definitely looking for
someone.
It must be
too soon, I reasoned. Maybe he just got lost today and
they haven't placed the ad yet. After all, it was clear
that this dog missed someone horribly and someone,
somewhere had to be missing him too.
The
following week was a blur of activity.
My mother
was out of town so I had her housekeeper move in to take
care of the Perfect Gentleman. I visited everyday.
Posters
were printed and put up and found ads were
placed
And
nothing. No one called. The silence was
deafening.
It just
didn't make sense.
Bubba was a
sweet, loving dog who aside from being dirty, looked well
cared for. He'd been fixed, had a leather collar and
clean tag on - someone had to be looking for
him!
My husband
and I decided to go the Hollywood address on Bubba's tag.
Maybe someone there would know Candace.
There was
no answer at the apartment number on the tag but another
apartment door was open and you could see a dog staring
thru the screen door.
It was
there we would find the answers to so many
questions.
It turned
out that the girl who lived there was Candace's friend
and the dog at her side was Bubba's brother,
Ernest.
Candace,
she told us, had just been hired as Olivia Newton-John's
live-in nanny and had to give Bubba up. She had given him
to a former coworker and most likely, said the girl, had
no idea he was lost.
Telling us
that Candace adored Bubba, she took our number and
promised to have her call us.
As soon as
we got to the car, I burst into tears.
"What's
wrong?", asked the husband.
"Aren't you happy we found Bubba's owner?"
Incoherent
sobbing
"Gigi,
what's wrong?"
"I love
Bubba"
The husband
didn't understand. Neither did I. We drove back in
silence.
Candace
would later call. It was clear that this young girl loved
Bubba very much and had been forced to make a very
difficult decision. Her job wouldn't allow her to have a
dog so she had given Bubba to someone she thought would
love him as much as she did.
She was
wrong.
The man,
she later found out, had tied Bubba up in a garage near
Burbank. He apparently was able to chew away the rope
that held him and ran away...searching, I am sure, for
Candace.
Candace
came to visit Bubba and it was clear that their adoration
was mutual.
Bubba was a
year and half old, she said, and she had him since he was
a puppy. They had been inseparable.
She
couldn't take him with her but promised to find him a new
home soon. It would be the last time we saw
her.
Over the
next week we spoke several times. Candace couldn't find
anyone to take Bubba and was going to give him back to
the same person who had tied him up. She didn't want to
but she felt she had no choice.
And then
she asked....
Is
there any way you could keep him?
He seems so happy there.
No, no,
no!
Yes, yes, yes!
In seconds
all the reasons for saying no flashed thru my
mind...important reasons like:
My
husband will divorce me
I already have two dogs
My husband will divorce me
I promised him I wouldn't keep him
My husband will divorce me
I could
only promise Candace that I would find Bubba a happy and
loving home where he would be well-cared for.
Yeah,
right.
After
giving me all of his medical history, etc...we said
good-bye.
She cried
and promised to call but never did. I have a feeling it
was just too painful for her and I don't doubt for a
moment that she loved him very much.
I never
searched for that loving home. I didn't have to.
By that
time, everyone here loved Bubba, including the husband.
And the
husband, who lived to please his bride, didn't hesitate
in making Bubba part of our new family.
I was
happier than I had ever been.
That was
1992 and almost fourteen years later, the Perfect
Gentleman and I are still together.
The
Burrito Incident
October
2005
It was a
beautiful burrito, it really was.
A handmade
flour tortilla stuffed to the bursting point with fresh
"carnitas" (pork) and rice. No hot peppers, no spices, no
onions....made especially for me, it was just the way I
liked it so I gave it to my best friend,
Bubba.
Share and
share alike, I mean, that's what friends are for,
right?
It almost
killed him.
It almost
killed me to think it almost killed him.
Death by
burrito -- it's not a pretty picture.
Bubba, like
all the dogs I have had, has always eaten doggy food as
his main diet with human food as an occasional treat. It
has never upset his tummy before. Before the "burrito
incident", that is.
Clang,
clang, clang
The sound
of Bubba's tags hitting the side of his bowl made me feel
good. There I sat, happily thinking I had made his day by
surprising him with the burrito.
The burrito all gobbled up, the clanging stopped and
Bubba walked towards me, licking his lips.
Choke,
cough, gag
Fifteen
feet from the burrito bowl to me and he was choking --
really choking.
His entire
body heaving and making the worst choking sounds you can
imagine, Bubba then began to foam at the mouth. So much
foam and bubbles, it looked like he had swallowed laundry
detergent.
Choke,
cough, gag
More
heaving, more bubbles. What do I do?
Plop
Up came the
burrito -- in it's entirety -- looking exactly the same
as it had before he'd eaten it.
Oh,
Bubba-Dog!
I'm so sorry!
It's
ok, Mom.
Did you see those cool bubbles I was blowing?
Can I have another burrito?
I sort of lost the first one you gave me.
All was
well again....in Bubba's world at least.
I, in turn,
was a mess. I had almost killed him....with a
burrito!
Little did
I know that the "burrito incident" was the formal
announcement of Mega-E's arrival
and that life as we knew it would never be the
same.
The
Journey Begins
November,
2005
After the
"burrito incident" there was the "salmon and rice
incident" followed by several
"just-plain-old-senior-dog-food incidents".
In other
words, almost everything that was going down was coming
right back up.
There were
also the "hairball incidents" where it looked and sounded
like Bubba wanted to spit something up -- I thought it
was a hairball -- but nothing would come out.
When the
vomiting started I thought my poor old boy had acid
reflux so off we went to see
Dr. Long at Roxford Veterinary....and it seems we haven't
left her office since.
Test after
test, everything came back normal but Bubba was still
throwing up. Not everyday but
enough that we were worried.
And now, in
addition to the food, there was phlegm. Thicker than
anything I had ever seen, it was painful just to look
at.
And that's
when I heard the "M" word for the first time.
Megaesophagus.
"Congenital
idiopathic megaesophagus is a generalized dilation
and hypomotility of the esophagus causing
regurgitation..."
http://www.vin.com/VINDBPub/SearchPB/Proceedings/PR05000/PR00133.htm
Idiopathic?
Hypomotility? Mega-what?
The
burrito/hairball/acid reflux theory was so much easier
for me to understand.
After
having Dr. Long explain it to me -- over and over -- I
finally understood.
Megaesophagus
basically means -- and this is my definition here -- that
the esophagus has lost
it's shape; it's firmness. Food no longer shoots straight
down to the tummy...it gets "caught" in
a now-flacid esophagus and then regurgitated right back
up.
It was a
lot to digest -- no pun intended.
Dr. Long
recommended a contrast study and the Bubster was "fed"
syringe after syringe of
barium (looks like and probably tastes like liquid
chalk). He took it like a trooper.
The test
results looked good...the majority of the barium had
passed to his stomach and
only a little remained in his esophagus.
But Dr.
Long still recommended we consult an expert, an
internist, so she helped me schedule an appointment for
the following week at a specialty center in
Pasadena.
That night
I felt hopeful...I mean if he had this awful-sounding
disease he would have surely
thrown up all the chalk -- barium -- but he didn't. Not a
drop.
Maybe it
wasn't Mega-E after all.
Diagnosis:
Death
December
2005
It is
Mega-E.
It isn't
Mega-E.
The more I
read on the subject, the less I seemed to know. Or didn't
want to know.
Meanwhile,
Bubba kept throwing up. Sometimes it was dinner, other
times just phlegm.
Being quite
the documentarian, in preparation for our appointment
with the specialist, I took pictures to show the
doctor.
Yes, of the
vomit.
I had never
seen anything like it and couldn't do it justice with
words alone.
The first
appointment wasn't encouraging...and would only get more
discouraging.
After
listening to Bubba's story and seeing the pictures (she
said it was a good idea, so no
laughing at me!) the doctor felt pretty strongly that it
was indeed Mega-E but would need to perform an endoscopy
to know for sure.
It wasn't
an easy decision to make -- the endoscopy. Bubba hadn't
being under anesthesia since
he was a child -- ok, puppy -- and at 14 it was
risky but if we didn't know what he had how could
we treat it?
Something
had to be done.
The
procedure went well but the diagnosis didn't.
"He
definitely has megaesophagus."
"What
can we do? How do we treat it?"
"There
is no cure.
The prognosis isn't good."
And that
was it.
Basically,
the conversation ended there but I kept hearing those
words in my head:
"The
prognosis isn't good."
"The prognosis isn't good."
"The prognosis isn't good."
We made a
follow-up appointment and left....heartbroken and
empty-handed.
No
medicine.
No
cure-all.
No
hope.
And by far,
having no hope, was the worst thing of all.
"He
Knows"
December,
2005
Bubba
didn't let on that day but he knew. He too had heard the
doctor's words, felt the vibe, sensed the
despair.
"The
prognosis isn't good."
The
endoscopy had confirmed our worst fears and from that
moment on, everything went from bad to worse.
Bubba began
throwing up continuosly. Everything he ate came right
back up. He couldn't even drink water.
"The
prognosis isn't good."
After
Pinche died, Bubba lost a lot of weight but now the
pounds were dropping off. From 56 pounds he plunged to
50. You could see his ribs.
"The
prognosis isn't good."
Meanwhile,
in between cleaning-up and re-feeding poor Bubba, I
researched at a fast and furious pace - reading anything
and everything I could find about Mega-E.
That was
when I found out that there was hope.
And that's
all Bubba and I needed...hope.
Hope
Arrives in a Box
December
2005
There it
was!
On Yahoo,
there was an entire group devoted to the subject of
Mega-E!
Post after
post, from people going thru the same exact thing with
their dogs. All the questions, fears, doubts I had, there
they were, in black and white.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/megaesophagus/
It was on
the that site that I first heard of the "Bailey Chair" -
created by Donna and Joe Koch for their boy Bailey who
had been diagnosed with Mega-E when he was just a
puppy.
Bailey in
his chair
Bailey, I read, was now seven years old.
Seven!!!
The chair
the Koch's designed helped Bailey sit upright after every
meal (in Bailey's case he actually eats in it - more on
that later). Gravity could then do its thing and instead
of the food sitting in his esophagus, it flows straight
down.
http://www.geocities.com/bailey_chair/
I had
already started sitting Bubba up in my arms after every
meal - something the vet never told me to do -- but it
was hard keeping him upright.
The Koch's
creation, I kept reading, had helped hundreds of
dogs.
And there
they were, picture after picture of dogs from all over
sitting in their version of the "Bailey
Chair".
http://www.geocities.com/bailey_chair/Page2
I cried
when I realized I wasn't alone!
We
weren't alone!
Bubba
in the Box
December
2005
Thru the
Yahoo site I learned that the Koch's offered a free DVD
with directions on how to build the "Bailey Chair" so I
immediately wrote them.
But with
Bubba getting worse, I worried that they might live in
another state and it would take days for the DVD to
arrive so armed with the pictures from the site, I asked
Dan to build Bubba his own "box".
It was
perfect!
Well, at
least I thought so...although Bubba didn't seem too
thrilled with the contraption.
At first,
just getting him in it was an ordeal but being the
perfect gentleman that he is, he took it like a man. Not
a happy man, but there he sat, for twenty minutes at a
time, as his breakfast, lunch and dinner gurgled their
way to his tummy.
We also
built a feeding stand so that as he ate, gravity could
help the food go down.
Bubba's
meals were now pureed in the blender - mixed with water
into a "slurry" like mix.
The effects
were almost immediate! For the most part, the vomitting
stopped and I felt hopeful that while not cured the
Mega-E was, at least, under control.
I was
wrong.
'Tis
the Season
December
2005
"Twas the
night before Christmas and all thru the house,
not a creature was stirring, not even a
mouse. "
The
holidays were difficult - and that's putting it
nicely.
While the
Bubster adapted nicely to his new feeding guidelines, he
was still losing weight...and throwing up.
'Tis
the season....for spit-ups and cleanups
fa la la la la,la la la la.
The
cleanups were so frequent I decided to just leave the
steam cleaner in the living room.
Bubba and I
spent Christmas Day by ourselves and while for the
Bubster it was just another day,
I was very, very sad.
The thought
that this was probably his last Christmas had me in
tears...I couldn't get that out
of my head.
And, as if
that wasn't enough, personal problems were beginning to
simmer in my life.
It was
Christmas Day that I realized I was truly alone in this
and the feeling was overwhelming.
I needed
help.
I needed a
hug.
An
Angel in Disguise
December
2005
Towards the
end of the year, it was more than clear that I needed
help...serious help.
Since Bubba
was eating smaller portions, he now had to be fed more
often. Plus, he
needed to sit-up for 20 minutes after every meal.
I realized
I needed someone to help me with at least one or two
feedings in the
evening, while I was at work.
And that's
how Bubba and I first met Sarah.
A friend at
work, Kathy, had mentioned her name months
earlier....telling me one day
that Sarah, who had worked at her vet's office, had now
started her own dog-sitting
business.
Sarah was
walking Kathy's dogs and Kathy was thrilled she had found
someone she
could trust and had veterinary experience...just in
case.
I asked
Kathy for Sarah's number and after ironing out the
details, it was a done deal!
Sarah would come in once a day to walk and feed Bubba,
and then sit with him for the
twenty minutes in the box.
Sarah, I
would soon learn, is a gentle soul who loves animals and
Bubba immediately fell
in love with her.
Bubba had a
new friend...and I couldn't have been happier.
Adiós
2005
New
Year's Eve
The last
few months had been so rough that I was anxious to say
goodbye to '05.
After all,
2006 would be the "Year of the Dog" - that surely would
mean loyalty,
steadfastness and all that was good, wouldn't
it?
Not.
In Los
Angeles, 2005 was ushered out with a major rainstorm so
New Year's Eve
was spent at home. A ham was cooked, potatoes were mashed
and the fireplace was lit.
And that's
when it happened.
It
shouldn't have, I know.
He
shouldn't have, he knew.
I shouldn't
have, I admit.
But it did,
he did and I did.
Bubba stole
a piece of ham...an entire slice right of my
plate.
By the time
I heard the familiar clink, clink of his tags on my good
china, it was too late.
And that's
when I did what I shouldn't have done but did anyway.
I gave him
more ham.
I was sad
and mad at this Mega-E monster...this damn disease had
stolen one of the biggest pleasures a dog can
have...eating normally.
How dare
you come into our lives and turn it upside down?
How dare
you hurt my Bubba-Dog? A dog who's never hurt anyone in
his entire life!!
How dare
you rob the best dog in the world of his good health in
the last years of his life?
How dare
you! How dare you! How dare you!
An hour
later, Bubba threw up the ham.
It was the
price we paid for a brief moment of normalcy.
That is how
2005 ended - with a spit-up and a clean-up.
And a
prayer that 2006 would be better.
January
2006
January of
2006 would prove itself to be one of the worst months of
my life.
For 31 days
straight, my faith would be tested; my heart would be
broken and I would
face some of the most painful decisions ever -- in other
words, it was hell.
Bubba would
be sicker than ever and the personal problems that were
simmering last month,
well in January they would come to a boil.
I wanted
the world to stop spinning so I could get off for a
moment and catch my
breath, but no, it wouldn't stop.
Bills had
to be paid, work had to be done, fights had to be
fought.
And all
awhile the Bubster was getting worse.
Mega-E
January
2006
The Mega-E
monster had been unleashed and would rear it's ugly head
all month,
showing us that it was here to stay and there would be
hell to pay.
Bubba would
visit doctor's offices a total of nine times this
month...you can imagine
the toll that took; physically, emotionally and
financially. On all levels, it was a big
blow.
The
strangest thing I have found with this doggy disease is
that health wise, things
can change from one moment to another -- radically. At
least in Bubba's case it
did.
One of the
dangers with Mega-E is aspiration pneumonia -- when dogs
regurgitate,
liquid or food can be aspirated into the lungs and cause
an infection.
Symptoms
can include listlessness, loss of appetite and
coughing.
The night
of January 6th, Bubba went to sleep his happy,
normal-as-can-be-considering-
the-circumstances self....but when he woke up the next
morning he was another dog -- listless,
he wouldn't eat and it seemed that overnight he had aged
many a dog year.
Donna Koch,
Bailey's mom, had told me that it was important to catch
AP early -- her
constant attention to Bailey is the reason he's been able
to live so well with Mega-E
for almost eight years now -- and that the key would be
noticing any changes in Bubba.
Well, this
certainly was a change so off to the vet we went
immediately.
Lung x-rays
confirmed that there was something developing in his
lungs but it was still
small -- on a scale from 1 to 10, with 10 being the
worst, Dr. Long calculated it at a 1 or 2.
Bubba was
immediately put on antibiotics -- Clavamox and
Baytril.
It would be
our first scare of the month but not the last.
Holistic
Help
January
2006
Years ago,
I did a TV story on alternative medicine for pets and
that's when I first heard
of the Limehouse Veterinary Clinic in Toluca
Lake.
http://www.limehousevet.com/
With
TV cameras rolling, I spent several hours there and
was impressed at how happy dogs
seemed to be there. There was no being dragged in, tail
tucked in between their legs --
the four-footed clients all arrived tails-a-wagging, a
site not often seen at the vets.
I thought
then that if I ever had a sick doggy I would bring them
here and a decade later,
I was on my way to Limehouse -- no cameras this time,
just the Bubster and me.
For our
first appointment, we made a great impression by arriving
40 minutes late.
The seven-mile trip there was a nightmare...and instead
of the 10 minutes it should
have taken us, it took us four times as long because
Bubster was sick.
"I
think I'm going to be car sick, Mom"
"Bubster,
you've never gotten sick in the car
before."
Gag,
cough, foam
Exit
freeway right
"I'm
better now, Mom. False Alarm."
"Are you
sure, son?"
"Yes,
Mom"
Enter
freeway left
"Mom?"
"Bubba?"
Gag,
cough, foam
Exit
freeway right
I had
stopped in front of a church with a large lawn in front
of it (we could have used some
divine intervention at that point) and on that lawn we
sat for half an hour while Bubba heaved,
gagged and foamed at the mouth.
It wasn't a
pretty sight.
It was then
I noticed an electric company worker sitting in a nearby
van -- the man was
just staring at us.
With Bubba
blowing bubbles and foaming at the mouth, I knew the guy
was thinking Bubba
had rabies or something awful like that.
When the
guy grabbed his cell phone to make a call, I imagined him
calling Animal Services
or some other agency...as Bubba continued to heave my
imagination ran wild with pictures of
uniformed agents hauling him away as I screamed "It's
not rabies, it's Mega-E!"
What can I
say, at that point I was beyond exhausted.
Bubba
finally threw up on the church lawn and we started to
leave but -- and there's always
a "but" isn't there? -- when Bubba got in the car I
noticed that he had had diarrhea all the
way down the sidewalk.
"Sorry,
Mom"
"It's
ok, Bubba."
As the
utility guy continued to stare, I cleaned the sidewalk
with paper towels and the
409 I had brought with me, just in case.
The mess
cleaned up, I got back into the car only to find that
Bubba had thrown up inside.
That's when
I started to cry.
Sticking
it to Bubba
January
2006
Tears
dried, vomit cleaned and poo put away, we were finally on
our way to Limehouse.
Now, I
never met a needle that I liked and I never saw Bubba
meet a needle he liked
so I was anxious to see how the doggy acupuncture session
would go.
Bubba was
just anxious, period.
Everyone at
Limehouse was extremely nice and understanding about us
being so late...and within
moments Bubba had relaxed.
After an
initial checkup and discussion about his Mega-E, Dr.
Priscilla Taylor-Limehouse
brought out the needles and one by one inserted them in
Bubba.
Dr.
Priscilla Taylor-Limehouse and Javier
He didn't
even blink....there he lay, as relaxed and happy as could
be, with about a dozen
needles sticking out of his body. It was
amazing.
And
then, to further show me how hip he was to this whole
holistic thing, Bubba did what he
does best -- he took a nap, needles and all.
We left our
first session feeling much better than when we
arrived....armed with little
bottles filled with liquids, powders and
pellets....things called Pulsatilla, Slippery Elm
and Mu Xiang Shun Qi Wan Saussurea.
Little
bottles that held a lot of hope.
Time
"But
there never seems to be enough time to do the
Things you want once you find them
I've looked around enough to know that
You're the one I want to go through time
with"
Jim
Croce
Time in a Bottle
"Mom,
what's time?"
"What do
you mean, Bubster?"
"You're
always saying it's 'time for you to go to bed',
'it's time for you to eat', 'it's time for me to go to
work',
'it's time for this or time for that'."
"It's an
indicator, son, of when things have to be
done"
"But
what is it?"
"Time is
something we never have enough of, son.
Although sometimes, it can seem like we have way too much
of it.
When we're happy, it flies.
When we're sad, it stops.
When we really need it, it's not there.
It's something you can't save, only spend.
It's what I desperately wish I had more of with you,
but know that I don't have enough of."
"Why are
you crying, Mom?"
"Because
son, just because."
Heartbreak,
Heartache
January 21st thru January 26th, 2006
The final
weeks of January were by far the hardest since Bubba had
been diagnosed
with Mega-E.
In a ten
day period, we would visit the vet six times. It seemed
that we would take
two steps forward only to be knocked four steps
back.
Fever,
nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, bacteria, dehydration,
regurgitation -- he had one
after another -- and when one malady was cured, another
would develop in its place.
Bubba was
deteriorating right in front of my eyes and my heart was
breaking.
As I fought
to save Bubba-Dog, I was also fighting to save a longtime
personal
relationship, but try as hard as I could, I
couldn't.
To realize
that the person we loved, trusted and needed, now more
than ever, was no
longer there for us was devastating.
They say
that when it rains, it pours and in my house a storm of
tears were being cried.
Seemingly overnight, I was losing everyone that mattered
to me. I had never felt so
alone.
Bubba felt
the loss too...first it was his best friend Pinche, now
his best buddy wasn't
coming to visit him anymore.
That week
Bubba's weight plunged even further....from the already
low 50 pounds
he weighed, he dropped down to 44.
He was
eating but not enough...and most of the little that he
did eat would later come up.
Even though
he was sitting up in his box for 20 minutes after every
meal, he gagged
continuously. His esophagus gurgling away, the choking
episodes became more and more
frequent.
I began
holding him up in my arms for an hour or two after every
meal. Like a baby,
Bubba would sleep nestled against my chest...as I would
quietly cry.
My already
broken heart ached.
I was
losing Bubba too.
And there
didn't seem to be anything I could do to save
him.
A
Turn for the Worse
January
27, 2006
By now,
Bubba was so sick and on so many different medications
that he could no longer
be left alone so Sarah began taking care of him full-time
while I was at work.
It was an
enormous relief to know that he wasn't alone...plus I
could call and check in
on him.
On Friday
the 27th, things would take a turn for the
worse.
After being
up all night with Bubba, we had our second appointment at
Limehouse.
Again we
were late.
Again, on
the way there Bubba got horribly sick in the car. He was
gagging and
foaming at the mouth and then had diarrhea, in the back
seat.
By the time
we got to Limehouse, both of us were a wreck.
When Dr.
Priscilla asked "How's Bubba?" I burst into tears...the
only words coming
out of my mouth were "he's dying".
The Dr.
hugged me..I was embarrassed, tired, and scared to death
that I was losing Bubba.
Add my
overall sadness to the mix, my stress level was at the
breaking point and it showed.
As we
waited in our assigned room for the Dr., Bubba began to
get worse. He was
breathing heavily, heaving, shuddering, gagging and
foaming at the mouth.
As I held
him on the floor I called out to anyone who could hear
me.....when the person
who came saw Bubba she immediately went to get the
doctors.
From one
moment to another, both Dr.'s Limehouse, another
specialist and an assistant were
working on Bubba as I held his head and tried to calm
him.
Everyone
was working a different angle and at one point he got so
bad I could hear a prayer
being whispered...silently, I too began to
pray.
I thought
Bubba was going to die, right then and there.
After
fifteen minutes of this -- and let me tell you when
someone is in distress like that,
fifteen minutes is an eternity -- Bubba managed to throw
up a huge puddle of the thickest
phlegm you can imagine.
We were all
drained and I immediately broke down and started crying
(yes, I know,
in every other paragraph I am crying).
I was so
upset, the specialist hurried and brought me some "Rescue
Remedy" to help me
calm down.
Later, Dr.
Priscilla would come back and sit on the floor with Bubba
and me...holding
my hand and patting Bubba...making sure we were both all
right.
I can never
thank them enough for the caring and kindness they showed
us that day.
After
telling me that Bubba's "attack" was one of the worst
they had ever seen, the Dr.'s
wanted me to take Bubba to my regular vet for a series of
x-rays.
So after
spending the morning at Limehouse, we proceeded to spend
the afternoon with
Dr. Long for chest x-rays, fluids and
antibiotics.
Again, the
x-rays showed a little congestion in the lungs. The worst
though was that he
only weighed 44 pounds.
Later that
night, the same exact scene described above would play
out in the living room
of my home.
Except...this
time, as Bubba once again struggled to bring the mucous
up, there were no
doctors to guide us, no one to hold my hand, say a prayer
or offer up a hug afterwards.
It was just
the Bubster and me...alone.
Sleepless
in SoCal
January
28, 2006
Morning
If you
think that it would help, I could stay with you tomorrow
night and alternate
shifts with you, but at some point you have to get some
sleep, Gigi.
You can't be in the public eye and look like you haven't
slept!
Email
from Donna, Bailey's Mom
When
Bubba doesn't feel well he paces.
And when
Bubba paces, I pace right behind him.
We have
been pacing now for two straight nights.
Sleep comes
only in short naps, and the toll it's taking on both the
Bubster and me is
more than evident.
He is
exhausted - the gagging episodes followed either by
throwing-up or spitting-up
(regurgitation) going on thru the night and into the
day.
The house
is covered in newspapers, towels and sheets. The steam
cleaner stands next to the
wet-and-dry vacuum in the living room...there is no point
in putting either away.
I am
touched by Donna's email -- a random act of kindness from
a total stranger. But she is
no stranger to Mega-E and the hardship it
brings.
Bubba
continues to vomit -- each attack more violent than the
other. The phlegm he brings
up is so thick even the vacuum struggles to suck it
up.
The doctor
had sent home some shots of Reglan, in addition to the
Prilosec and Carafate.
I am alone
so I have to give Bubba the injections myself -- an easy
task for most I am sure,
but for me, a wimp when it comes to needles, it takes all
the strength and concentration I can muster to puncture
his delicate skin.
The first
time I try, I end up squirting all the Reglan onto his
coat. The needle never even
touched his skin.
Normally I
would laugh at my ineptness but not now...now I can only
think of one thing: the
quality of Bubba's life.
He is
suffering and I cannot allow that to continue.
A
decision has to be made.
January
28, 2006
Evening
The
vomiting and diarrhea continue.
Bubba
manages to eat one can (divided into small servings) but
it is not enough.
I know that
the medicine takes time to take effect but patience is
not one of my virtues.
I am at my wit's end.
Donna has
been calling thru-out the day to check on Bubba and at
9:00 p.m., upon hearing
that he's not getting any better, she offers to come over
and bring some Robitussin in
hopes that it will help dissolve the mucous.
She arrives
at 10 p.m., her arms loaded with grocery bags.
In addition
to the Robitussin, she has brought chicken breasts and
bouillon to make broth
for ice cubes (Bubba, like many other Mega-E dogs, has
problems swallowing water - for
some reason ice cubes go down easier and help keep them
hydrated) and knowing that I
haven't eaten either, she has brought fresh vegetables so
I can make soup.
I want to
tell her what I am thinking about but I cannot bear to
say the words aloud.
Later that
night, Bubba would have the worst attack yet.
By that
time, Donna had already left...before though, she had
written out a list of
the closest emergency rooms....just in case.
The attack
started just before Midnight and would last an
excruciating 35 minutes,
the longest ever.
As he paced
back and forth, his entire body heaved; his chest pounded
so hard I thought
his heart was going to burst out; and he foamed at the
mouth all awhile making this raspy,
gagging sound.
I tried
sitting him up; patting his chest, his back...anything
and everything I could think of.
Nothing
worked.
I called
one of the emergency rooms on the list Donna had left and
explained that I had
a dog with Mega-E and that he was very sick - I think I
actually said "dying". They said
they would call in a specialist who would be there by the
time I arrived.
As I rushed
to get my purse and keys, I realized I couldn't hear
Bubba (his gagging
had been pretty loud and continuous).
Now, the
silence was deafening.
Oh,
please God, please, please, please.
No, no, no.
Please don't let him have.....
I ran
outside - he wasn't there. Searched each side of the
house, not there. The bedroom,
bathrooms -- the house isn't big but it seemed to take
forever.
Please
God.
Please God.
Please God.
I finally
found him...standing in the middle of the kitchen next to
the biggest puddle of
phlegm and foam you can imagine.
Thank
you God!
Bubba
seemed almost paralyzed -- he just stood there staring at
the floor. I
picked him up and took him to the sofa where he
immediately fell asleep...the poor
pup was drained.
I called
the emergency room and told them that he had finally been
able to vomit and
that I wouldn't be coming in...at least not now. They
were very understanding.
And then I
went to sit with Bubba -- to watch over him as he
slept.
The
decision was making itself and I was
devastated.
D-Day
January
29, 2006
Morning
Bubba is
not getting better, he is getting worse.
In my
heart, I know what I have to do but I can't bear
to make the decision yet.
But I know
a decision has to be made.
So I make
one...I decide that if by next Friday Bubba is not
considerably better,
then I will make the other decision, the final
one.
Five more
days to pray; five more days to hope; five more days to
find a miracle.
January
29, 2006
Afternoon
Donna calls
-- she has spent the morning talking with Dr. Kathy, a
veterinarian in
Michigan who consults on the Mega-E board.
After
hearing about Bubba, Dr. Kathy recommends I immediately
start him on nebulizer
treatments, using both Albuterol and Saline.
At that
point, exhausted and desperate, I am willing to try
anything...but where do I get
a nebulizer?
What is a
nebulizer anyway?
Donna tells
me she will borrow one from a family member and bring it
over.
Once again,
she arrives loaded with bags...more food, the nebulizer,
saline, Albuterol.
So much for a dog she'd only met once.
As Donna
explains how to use the nebulizer, Bubba begins having
one of his attacks...
he's gagging and foaming at the mouth.
I look at
Donna and my eyes say what my mouth can't.
I manage to
mutter something like "If this continues, if he keeps
suffering this way..."
I can't finish the sentence.
"Try the
nebulizer", she says. "If nothing else works, then
you can start to think about
the quality of life issue. Not now."
As I try
calming Bubba down, my back begins to spasm.
It had
started that weekend because, I think, I had been picking
Bubba up so much.
-- either to put him in his chair or to try and help
bring the phlegm down.
So there I
am laying on the living room floor -- my back twitching
away, the pain pretty
bad. Next to me, the Bubster foaming and coughing
away.
Poor Donna!
There she is, basically a total stranger, trying to calm
Bubba down as she
helped me stretch my back so the spasms would
stop.
I told you,
when it rains at my house, it pours.
January
29, 2006
Evening
I began the
nebulizer treatments right away.
First, a
vial of Albuterol for ten minutes, then saline for
another ten.
It wasn't
easy...but miracles usually aren't.
And yes,
the nebulizer turned out to be the miracle I had been
praying for...Dr. Kathy
Morris and Donna Koch the angels who delivered
it.
The change
in Bubba was immediate. No more gagging, no more hacking;
foaming;
no more phlegm.
It was like
the attacks had never happened.
It was like
he didn't even have Mega-E.
Recovery
Mode
January
30th
For the
first time in days, Bubba and I slept thru the entire
night. What a luxury!
The weekend
had been a nightmare and I couldn't believe we had made
it thru.
Bubba
continued to show signs of improvement....but the mucousy
diarrhea continued
and he was put back on Diawin, as well as having
additional fluids administered
subcutaneously.
The weight
loss issue was a big concern...at 44 pounds, Bubba was
emaciated.
Among
everything else Donna had brought over on the weekend,
there were a few cans
of California Natural -- the dog food her Bailey eats.
She had recommended I try
it because it has a high calorie count and could help
Bubba put some weight on.
California
Natural
He loved
the food and at 520 calories per 13.2 oz. can it was just
what he needed.
A
Big Blur
February
2006
February's
28 days came and went in one big blur.
As many
Mega-E "parents" will tell you, the learning curve with
this disease is very
steep. There are a few basic rules but basically you have
to find out what works well
for your furry friend.
There are a
million and one things to figure out:
What
consistency is the right consistency for their food?
Meatballs or Maltshakes?
How much do I feed at one time?
15 minutes in the chair or 20?
So this
month was basically spent "experimenting" -- trying to
find what would be just
right for the beautiful Bubster.
Meanwhile,
he continued on the nebulizer treatments -- Albuterol and
Saline, at least once
a day.
He would
only make five trips to the vets this month -- and I say
"only" because three
visits were for his acupuncture treatments.
Since
starting his new diet and the treatments, he has gained
an average of one pound
per week which is great.
