This is not a happy blog post. First let’s just start off saying that my daughter having so many medical things happen to her is a big, big tear in her psyche. She struggles and won’t talk about it. It’s harder for her than we realize sometimes. And today was a bad day for her. A bad day.
We’ve suspected for several days that her bladder infection was back. She wet the bed two nights ago—which hasn’t happened since the killer ten days of super-de-duper antibiotic that was supposed to eradicate everything in her bladder. One month later and it’s back. We can’t get in until the beginning of the week so we’ve put her on one of the medications from before that we had left over. She is very unhappy about this. But more happened…
She was in her favorite tree in the front yard climbing up to the top. Madison was underneath her, climbing a few limbs down. My daughter, with the bladder infection, apparently lost control and some urine came out, and it landed on Madison. Madison yelled something about it being gross, jumped out of the tree and ran off.
My daughter, highly embarrassed, jumped out of the tree as fast as she could…and landed on the dog.
It was bad. The dog screamed. My husband came running. My son was holding the dog. My daughter was upset. Matisse only cried for about fifteen seconds, but she will not, at all, put the leg down and bear weight on it.
And while I’m worried about the puppy, I’m also worried about my daughter—a lot. She fell asleep tonight at 6:10pm probably due to all the mental stress on her. She doesn’t need this. She told my husband, “I want to die” right after it happened. She’s never, ever said anything like that. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with the dog and won’t talk to us at all about anything even related. She even lost it with me about taking the medicine for the bladder infection, yelling, “I don’t want to have to take medicine!” And on top of that she has three rounds of five different kinds of drops every day and pressure readings with the ocular pressure machine. And her vision is only getting worse, less, closer to total blindness.
So yes, I’m worried about her. Now about the puppy. We went to Practice Thanksgiving at a our friends house this afternoon. My husband made the turkey and our friends would all be there and we had no choice but to leave the dog and hope all was well. But we didn’t do so without some medical advice first.
As timing would have it, Margaret and Uncle Jonathan had come over to run in the park across from our neighborhood. Margret is both a doctor and has worked in animal research specifically with dogs. Margaret gave Matisse a thorough examination, checking movement of her leg and looking for other signs of injury. Matisse’s leg moves completely in a normal fashion. It can be manipulated to the full range of motion without even a whimper from the dog. The toes aren’t sore, the muscles aren’t sore. We can massage her muscles, move her leg and check all around and we get no pain response, not a flinch. The kneecap doesn’t seem to be dislocated nor does the hip.
Margaret said it was possible her hip dislocated when she was landed on but is now back in, except it’s sore. When we got home I was hopeful Matisse would put the foot down and realize it wasn’t painful anymore and walk normally again. Only she isn’t doing so. We see no bruising, but that doesn’t mean it’s not internally bruised or strained.
If she’s not better by morning we’ll reevaluate. For both the dog and my daughter’s psyche, I really hope she’s better in the morning.
The Big Boy Update: We went to our friends house for practice thanksgiving today. They have a eleventy-twelve cats (or some other high number that my son might make up). We gave him some Benadryl so he wouldn’t react with his allergy. I knew it was going to put him to sleep. When he was on the sofa after dinner he looked groggy. We asked him if the Benadryl was hitting him and he smiled and nodded a, “yep” answer just before he nodded off to sleep.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter wanted to play with the cats at our friends house today but she was only able to touch the whiskers of one cat before it dashed away. The dog choice was a good one: she touches Matisse all the time and Matisse likes it.
No comments:
Post a Comment