As you can imagine, it has been an emotional roller coaster here at the Bailey house.
Roscoe got his crappy diagnosis June 27. On June 29 I pulled myself back on my feet enough to pick up a couple of his new medications from the vet and get him started. The last med came a few days later from a compounding pharmacy (a liquid designed to taste like peanut butter). During this couple of days, his control of his legs got less and less. I didn't have a lot of hope. The doctors all said that these meds might, maybe, could possibly slow down the progress of the disease. It hadn't been proven, but it couldn't hurt.
But so begins the new routine. Twice a day I grind up half a pill and funnel it into a straw to pour into his mouth. I split pills and break one down to teeny tiny quarters. (Lots of these meds are just not made for little dogs.) I put the liquid in a syringe and wake up an hour early in the morning to give it to him an hour before food and water. Roscoe is a trouper. Whatever you give him he takes without complaint. It is really pretty amazing.
Thank heavens for the friends and family I have who gave me the right amount of loving support and space to break down. Some even spent the night.
The change after the meds was almost immediate. He's still a little lethargic and not quite as bossy as he used to be, but his control of his little body is dramatically improved. Some of it may be that he has slowed down so he keeps better control, but no more legs sliding out from under him while he is trying to eat. He can do stairs (although I still get nervous when he does) and he hasn't fallen down in days.
I'm sure it is the steroid that has him starving to death and drinking like crazy, but I love watching him eat and enjoy his food and treats. The steroid and the diuretic have him struggling a little sometimes to get outside, but ... I have wood floors, we can handle it. I worry a little about the cyclosporine, which is what they give transplant patients to suppress the immune system, but I have to remember ... this isn't really a long term situation.
Sometimes that is the hard part now. Don't get me wrong, my joy at the fact that he is doing so well is beyond measure. It makes me happy to watch him do everything. When he stands on his back legs to greet me when I come through the door (a definite no no before this) it makes me grin from ear to ear. But I have to not con myself that this is forever. And I know it isn't forever. But those folks who said that we needed to prepare for two weeks to a month .... they don't know my dog. He is one seriously tough nut.
So that's my update. Roscoe is eating me out of house and home... drinking the bowl dry as fast as I can fill it.... peeing and pooping and figuring out I don't fuss if accidents happen.... loving and cuddling and giving kisses .... letting company know in his loudest voice that he can see them... sitting for food and begging for treats... snuggling and sleeping the day away. In other words, Roscoe is doing all of the things that Roscoe does best. And I am enjoying every minute of them. That's what I'm learning from him right now. Today is the only day I have. Take pleasure from the little things that it brings.
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