sadie the wonder dog

On Tuesday morning a nurse came by the house. This wasn't random - she was taking my blood and urine samples for the life insurance I now have to secure on my own, since I no longer work for the Big Cheese. We were sitting at the kitchen table while she asked me the medical questions: "Have you ever had a cardiac episode? Have you ever been hospitalized for more than 5 days?" You know the drill. And Sadie was at my feet the entire time, acting kind of off. Then suddenly Sadie starts to wretch. And I look at the nurse and apologize because no doubt my dog is about to throw up under the table. And I look down and Sadie has thrown up blood with black chunks in it. I ask the nurse if that's blood and she says yes, finishing with, "That can't be good." You think? So I get rid of her and call the vet, who ask that I bring Sadie in right away.



The vet runs some tests on Sadie, which take FOREVER, and we determine that the black chunks are the char pieces from the grill we cleaned in the yard last week. We had caught Sadie snooping around there before, trying for whatever reason to get at the burnt pieces of food. And they caused her digestive tract to get inflamed. This in turn led to her pancreas swelling and blood being pushed into her stomach. And her other blood test shows that her blood isn't clotting, though they have no idea if it's related.

I'm stunned. STUNNED. Because even though she was throwing up blood, you never think it's going to be a serious problem. The vet starts telling me treatment options. Then the vet tech brings in the estimate for 2 days in the ICU animal hospital, a plasma transfusion, an ultrasound, more blood tests, medications, the whole shebang. She probably could have slipped in the first semester's tuition at a state school and I wouldn't have noticed. BECAUSE I PAID LESS TO ACTUALLY GIVE BIRTH. You know, in a real hospital. So I'm crying (and it's the full-on ugly cry too) and ask the vet the thing you're not supposed to: What if we don't do anything? Yeah, not good - permanent damage to the liver and pancreas, blood loss, shock.

So, I'm not the kind of person who considers my dog as just a dog. She's a member of the family, and if I have to spend so much of my damn money on her, well - that's what Britton's savings account is for. I'm only half-joking. Anywho, we have our good-byes and I call the hub to fill him in. I visited her in the hospital that night, she in her little cone all drugged up on pain meds, and me about to bawl the entire time. The next morning the vet called and said that Sadie responded really well to the treatment.

The next day I get to bring her home (silver lining - the bill was only 2/3 of the estimate!) and now she's on four different medications and a special low-fat dog food I can apparently only buy at the vet office. Convenient! And I only joke about it now because it went our way. Because for those couple of days, we were scared. Really scared, that we were going to lose Sadie or that she may come back to us with major digestive problems. Other than the little shaved patch above her right front paw, you wouldn't know anything was amiss.