I have not posted in a while because some terrible things have happened to Cleo and I. On Thursday night (Feb 2nd) Cleo suddenly cried very loud, and when I came running she was throwing up blood in the living room. I immediately packed her up and drove to the vet emergency room, even though it was beginning to snow very hard. When I got there I was settled in to a room, but they assumed she had eaten something she shouldn't have (I assumed the same even though I couldn't find anything that she could have gotten in to at the apartment) She threw up one more time in the room, the blood was dark and her vomit looked like coffee grounds. She was lying down (which she never does in new places) and hiding under my chair. I began to get very worried.
The doctor recommended blood tests and an x-ray to make sure nothing was in her stomach. When the vet finally beckoned me back in to an examination room about an hour later, the results were shocking. Cleo did not eat a sock. Her liver was abnormally small for her body, and her stomach is too high in her chest (both these are guessed to be congenital defects) and the enzymes in her blood were off the charts. She had severe stomach ulcers and was not clotting her blood correctly. The vet gave it to me straight, she might not have much time left. What that meant she didn't know yet. Maybe a few months, maybe a year. I was devastated. I cried in the waiting room for another thirty minutes while they went and got her an anti-nausea shot and some other medications. They recommended I take her to a specialist the next day to get an ultrasound of her liver.
The next morning I woke up to a huge accident in the bedroom (of the liquid poo sort) which I madly tried to clean up (while gagging) and then dug my car out to drive about 20 minutes away to the specialist. The consultation alone cost me $250. After the ultrasound they told me that there was nothing visible like shunt in her liver, and I felt that was pretty good news. However, they could tell me that she was going to have explosions from both ends and she should be hospitalized. At this point Cleo has lost almost 8 pounds. I agreed to have her hospitalized. The bill was overwhelming. It sounded like things were not doing so well.
I went home with a leash and a collar, but no dog. I wasn't going to see her again until Sunday. On Saturday they called me to let me know she was done being violently sick and I could pick her up early. She wasn't herself, and still isn't. She has trouble getting up in the morning, sleeps most of the time and does not want to go on long walks. I won't know more until the next set of tests comes back, but from now on Cleo is on a special bland diet. Her entire underbelly was shaved, so I bundled her up against the cold weather. I'm hoping for the best, but even the best means I don't have as much time with as I like.
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