My day with Krishna

[fredericks]

My dog is sick. She doesn't act it, but her head's lopsided, with the right upper portion swollen to an unusual size, the right side of her jaw practically immobile, and the left upper head portion slightly sunken in. I didn't notice the head problem until Saturday. She'd been having problems eating for at least the last five days, maybe before. I wouldn't know - my brothers are the ones responsible for feeding her and when I asked one of them why Krishna (said dog) hadn't been fed a couple of days ago his answer was "she doesn't eat, so why bother feeding her?" How long they've been neglecting to even bother to put food out I don't know. Not that you'd notice immediately; Krishna's on the chunky side (I like to call her "pleasantly plump").

I told my folks about the Krishna's misshapen head on Sunday, because apparently no one else had noticed it. I figured, since they more or less act blase towards her medical care we wouldn't end up taking her to the vet until Tuesday, giving me enough time to call out from work and swing by the vet so I could get some tranqs for her (Krishna's traditionally been less than pleasant when dealing with the guys in the white coats). I called the vet first and actually made the appointment for Tuesday, but once I told the receptionist that Krishna wasn't eating (an exaggeration on my part - she wasn't eating the hard food we usually gave her but could manage things like french fries, chicken, and rice) the woman was quick to make time for me on Monday. I figured once I told my mother about the Monday appointment she'd start bitching me out, so I was surprised to have her ask me why I hadn't tried to make an appointment for the same day (Sunday). I think I would have if I'd have thought anyone would have taken me. The things you learn after the fact, huh? Of course, her next words were "the dog could die", something I hadn't bothered to think about so, yeah, I was feeling pretty scared shitless afterwards.

Fastforward to today. I had to e-mail my boss and tell her I couldn't make it to my notetaking gigs because I had to take my dog to the vet (my exact wording was "my dog is ill"; I opted out of throwing any adjectives in there, in case she thought I was lying or at least trying to be overly dramatic), an excuse that really only has an effect on a pet owner. I felt bad about not being there for my student, but there was no way I wasn't going to go to the damned vet with Krishna. My mother had a prior engagement that she couldn't seem to back out of, so my brother ended up taking us out there. We ran into problems just getting Krishna into the van for the first time. She has leg problems (I find it somewhat cute that we both have screws and plates in a leg: hers in her left hind and mine in my right) and they seem to be getting worse, which is another thing I have to worry about. I mean, usually she can manage jumping into the van, but today the jump was too much. After 20 minutes of coaxing (with bacon, no less) we ended up removing a seat and using it as a step.

We got to the vet, and she was surprisingly well-behaved for the doctor. The doc ended up guessing that it might be a tooth infection with an abcess that spread up (under) the mandibular musculature (that was actually one of my early guesses) or ...cancer. It's funny: while my brother and I were outside the vet waiting to be called for our appointment two women came outside with their dog and started talking about its diagnosis, inadvertently sharing with us that their cute miniature pooch had some sort of cancer. My brother and I looked at Krishna then looked at each other; he wore an expression that was indescribable, and I'm pretty sure my own was similar. Doing our usual thing we started cracking jokes, and fell back on impersonating Arnold Schwarzenegger from Kindergarten Cop "It is not a tu-mah!" but it wouldn't leave my mind. It'd been thinking tumor since Sunday, actually, but I tried my best to forget it and not freak out.

And I didn't "freak out" exactly, but I did end up crying when we returned for Krishna in the evening and the doctor told me that he still wasn't sure what was wrong with her but that cancer of either the bone or the brain was still a possibility. It wasn't like he said "yes, it is definitely cancer" but just the thought of it being "the big C" had me not feeling too hot. I wasn't even thinking about Krishna dying. Or, rather, that wasn't the sole thing I was thinking about. It was the combination of trying to deal with whatever she might have (a localized degenerative muscle disorder is still a possible diagnosis) and being utterly helpless to make everything better for the one creature in the world who appears to love me unconditionally.

Money and lack thereof plays a big part in my tumultuous emotions at the moment. A reason why I was initially hesitant to tell my folks about what was wrong with Krishna was because they're always (understandably) bitching about lack of funds. I couldn't bear the thought of my mom ranting about "how much money the dog is costing us", but I didn't know she'd show all that care and concern. I still get a warm feeling thinking about her reaction. Anyways, since I seem to still be a go on my scholarship money and the fucking Hunter woman says she's mailed out my internship pay (we're in the process of playing the "but I mailed it out!"/"I have yet to receive it" game, always fun) there's a chance I'll come into $2K by October. That might just cover the bulk of Krishna's immediate medical bills. I ended up activating a credit card I've had for 6 years and had been saving for a rainy day in order to pay today's charges which, for a biopsy, anesthesia, medication, and various fees, came up to $610. Lord knows how much whatever else needs to be done is going to cost. I'm praying I don't get screwed over with any of my eggs because the chicken is, in this case, my dog. I can't say I'm happy with not being able to get the new PC this semester (I really wanted to be able to relax with Sims 2 over winter break) but hopefully I'll get enough back for winter term to get it then.

So I'm tired. And worn out. And ANGRY. I've been angry for a good bulk of today. Angry at the Hunter woman for not getting me my check when she said she would, angry the post office for fucking up my mail again and maybe sending the check (if it was mailed out) somewhere else, angry at Pace for being major dicks when it comes to the workings of their financial aid (how the hell am I supposed to get my books and uniforms??), angry at various persons and acquaintances for pretty petty and ridiculous reasons, angry at my aunt for making a flip comment about my dog, and, mainly, angry at myself. I keep thinking I missed something, that things had to progress to this point. I don't have enough money and I'm going to be scrabbling to keep above water during this first semester. I might lose this creature that reminds me of myself, all bristly and anti-social and limpy. And I'm worrying about an "if", just because she's bald on the side of her head that's grossly misshapen and she has stitches. It's an "if", nothing's definite. I just feel like if I lose her I'll be really alone right now. And the suckage of that cannot be fully put into words.
*

Please, no "hugs". I really dislike those.

Comments

[citizenjess.livejournal.com]

I usually turn comments off if I'm posting an entry where people feel obliged to "*hug*" me, because it kind of makes me want to "*throttle*" them. But if it helps as far as mutual commisseration goes, one of our dogs is currently having bloodwork done because of advanced and uber-sudden pancreatitis. They say she's "doing better", but she's not exactly young and/or particularly healthy after two back surgeries and various other minor problems throughout her life.

Short Version: I hear you.

[fredericks.livejournal.com]

I usually turn comments off if I'm posting an entry where people feel obliged to "*hug*" me, because it kind of makes me want to "*throttle*" them.

Occasionally I do as well, but it strikes me as somewhat odd to share something that's heartfelt with others and then prevent them from either commiserating (and perhaps help themselves feel better about a particular event) or pointing out something I may have missed. Those I stick as personal entries, usually. Most people that are familiar with me know *hugs* are the kiss of death - it's the newer folks I have to inform.

And I hear you right back. Pets. What can you say?

[citizenjess.livejournal.com]

I have not closed off comments for a few months now, but occasionally - like if a relative were to die or something that I was really close to and I just wanted to entry to inform rather than to suck up sympathy, I probably would. But generally, I have a filter of people I feel comfortable with (read: those who know that I hate "*hugs*" with a fiery passion) to vent to when I feel an urge to do so.

Re: Pets: I'm very Hagrid when it comes to my animals, so ... yeah.

[fredericks.livejournal.com]

Re: Pets: I'm very Hagrid when it comes to my animals, so ... yeah.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that doesn't mean you readily obtain deadly exotic animals and raise them until they inadvertently put children in danger of death. Unless that's your cup of tea, in which case - good for you!, culling the numbers of a world on the brink of overpopulation!

(::puts Child Welfare on speed dial::)

[citizenjess.livejournal.com]

Well. I mean, I don't (plan to) have kids, and as far as I know, there are no dragons and/or unicorns in the Muggle world, so for now, I relate myself to Hagrid purely because of our "my animal can do no wrong" attitudes. Like, my weiner dog is vaguely homicidal (she answers by both Patches and Cujo with equal familiarity), but I think she's the most beautiful creature in the universe.

[fredericks.livejournal.com]

Like, my weiner dog is vaguely homicidal (she answers by both Patches and Cujo with equal familiarity), but I think she's the most beautiful creature in the universe.

A weiner dog that answers to "Cujo"? Oh, that IS a thing of beauty.

And I figured as much.

[citizenjess.livejournal.com]

It's really sad when we get into, like, derivations of nicknames - like, Patches becomes "Patchinator" or Patchy-Poo", and then there's Cujinator and The Cuje, and it just gets ridiculous from there.

[lostcrackerjack.livejournal.com]

I understand completely. My cat just had a similar problem. He's 12, and, well....you can probably imagine his teeth are not in the best of shape. The vet initially told me he'd have to lose all of his teeth....*gulp*... but luckily he only needed to get 4 teeth pulled. I say luckily not only because my cat still has some teeth, but because having just 4 teeth pulled amounted to a pretty hefty vet bill (I couldn't imagine what it would cost to have all of his teeth pulled). He's at the age when a lot of problems start showing up....I can tell this cat is going to cost me a fortune, but he's my buddy, so it's worth it in the end.

[fredericks.livejournal.com]

I never really planned for this, one because I can't budget for shit, and two because Krishna's relatively young (almost 8). Well, she ain't no spring chicken, but she's...young at heart?

I hear you with the bill problems. It's crazy. And I honestly can't see myself not finding some way to pay. Or trying to find some way. The things we do for those we love.

[tjfalcon.livejournal.com]

No hug here. But this is the kind of thing that really keeps me from getting a pet (other than fish). I know that if something were to happen, that I would have absolutely no way to deal with. Financially or emotionally. Hang in there and do what you can when you can.

[fredericks.livejournal.com]

Aww. But fishies are so darn hard to brush and play fetch with.

Thanks for the words. They mean a lot, really.

[melancthe.livejournal.com]

No *hugs*? Yay! Have to agree with that - normally people who give me *hugs* get *gropes* in return, heh.

Seriously, though, I'm sorry to hear about your dog. I'm shocked at the cost, though. I didn't realise that vet fees would amount to quite so much!

[devoosha.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry about Krishna. That is the worst and most helpless feeling, when your pet is at the vet. I think the saddest thing is that you have to make decisions, often, based on finances. You'd never really see that with humans. It's been my experience, though, that vets often tell you the very worst things that can happen, because if you are aware and start thinking about it, you can make proper preparations emotionally and financially. And often it's just that...worst-case scenario. I don't say that to give false hope to you, because unfortunately it could be what the vet is saying it might be. But it also might not. Just hope for the best and give her all the love you can give.

[zelle999.livejournal.com]

How long have you had Krishna?

Pets are part of our families, and bitching about having to pay to treat them when they're sick is just like bitching that your sister has appendicitis and damnit, that's gonna cost a FORTUNE to fix. It's sad that so many people don't feel that way about their animals and seem to think that if one dies, they can just run right out and get another one. That's why I refuse to get a dog right now. They deserve more attention than I could possibly give right now.

We have had a few dogs. When the last one died of cancer, my dad swore that he would never get another one. It was just too painful for him when they died.

Gah. As silly as it may sound, when Rasberry (my betta) dies, I don't know what I'll do. How dumb is that? He's a fish. But I love him.

[zelle999.livejournal.com]

Hmmm... I want to add that I wasn't saying you were bitching about having to pay. It sort of came across that way. I guess it was more a comment about:

A reason why I was initially hesitant to tell my folks about what was wrong with Krishna was because they're always (understandably) bitching about lack of funds. I couldn't bear the thought of my mom ranting about "how much money the dog is costing us", but I didn't know she'd show all that care and concern.

I'm glad your mom seemed to care.

Hope all the worrying turns out to be for nothing.