Another day, another $300 at the vet
As if money were the most important thing here.
It's not.
Boscoe has a slipped disc. Or possibly a pinched nerve. Or, worst-case scenario, a spinal tumor.
We're pretty sure it's not a spinal tumor, and while we understand why the vet had to mention the T word, since it's his job to be honest with us, we are trying not to hold it against him. It's not easy to listen to, even when he makes it clear it's only an outside chance.
As I write this, I am propped up on the old futon, which we hauled downstairs so that I can sleep with Boscoe. He is sleeping next to me, in no pain now, pretty drugged up on all kinds of dangerous drugs. (Metacam and Tramadol.)
I know that Metacam can possibly harm the liver. I also know that Metacam stopped him from screaming in pain earlier today, and so I love the drug and will worry about his 14-year-old liver later.
He wasn't screaming non-stop; he screamed when I tried to move him, and, later, he shrieked when he tried to move himself. But even a short, fraction-of-a-second scream will stop your heart when it comes from your deeply beloved dog.
We are not sure what happened to cause this pinched nerve, or slipped disc. We all went for the morning walk, as usual. He was pokey, but willing. When we came home Doug went to work, Riley trolled the back yard, Boscoe curled up in his dog bed, and I went for a bike ride. When I came back a half-hour or so later, Boscoe was in pain--refusing to put any pressure on his front right paw and limping heavily.
It just got worse from there. I finally called the vet at about two p.m., and he recommended the Metacam and the Tramadol together, to numb the pain enough for us to bring him in.
We're pretty sure it's not a spinal tumor, and while we understand why the vet had to mention the T word, since it's his job to be honest with us, we are trying not to hold it against him. It's not easy to listen to, even when he makes it clear it's only an outside chance.
As I write this, I am propped up on the old futon, which we hauled downstairs so that I can sleep with Boscoe. He is sleeping next to me, in no pain now, pretty drugged up on all kinds of dangerous drugs. (Metacam and Tramadol.)
I know that Metacam can possibly harm the liver. I also know that Metacam stopped him from screaming in pain earlier today, and so I love the drug and will worry about his 14-year-old liver later.
He wasn't screaming non-stop; he screamed when I tried to move him, and, later, he shrieked when he tried to move himself. But even a short, fraction-of-a-second scream will stop your heart when it comes from your deeply beloved dog.
We are not sure what happened to cause this pinched nerve, or slipped disc. We all went for the morning walk, as usual. He was pokey, but willing. When we came home Doug went to work, Riley trolled the back yard, Boscoe curled up in his dog bed, and I went for a bike ride. When I came back a half-hour or so later, Boscoe was in pain--refusing to put any pressure on his front right paw and limping heavily.
It just got worse from there. I finally called the vet at about two p.m., and he recommended the Metacam and the Tramadol together, to numb the pain enough for us to bring him in.
He'll be on those meds for the next two weeks--one week at a fairly high dosage, and the second week tapering off--and if it's just a pinched nerve or slipped disc he should be much better by then. Here's hoping. Poor old guy. No walks in the meantime. No playing. No romping. Just a lot of hanging out, resting, and healing.
