Bear with me this week, as I expect that much will be centered around Iona. I will attempt to periodically break up the dog stories with the other events in our life, but her impending hospital visit is keeping her top of mind.
In preparation for Tuesday, her surgeon requested that she start taking Propranolol, which is a beta-blocker known to help prevent heart failure in dogs. Apparently this is a potential issue when removing the tumor from her thyroid. While this alone isn't entertaining, the process of picking up the medication was.
Since this is people medicine, the vet just called it into our local Rite Aid. I first attempted to pick it up on Thursday afternoon, only to discover it wasn't ready yet. Then Michael went back that night and still nothing. The initial issue was that there was no "Iona Dog Stealey" in the Rite Aid database. (Yes, that is who the prescription is written out to. I will be interested to see how fast Blue Cross insurance kicks this one back!) Then they realized they only had Propranolol in tablet form and not in the liquid. Apparently the dosage a 29 pound dog needs is significantly less than that of an adult human!
On Friday it was finally ready! Of course I needed to read through all the side effects before I would give it to her, and this is where it became truly hysterically funny. Keep in mind...THIS IS A DOG.
SIDE EFFECTS AND WARNINGS: - Unusual dreams may occur (Does she now dream about flying and shopping, instead of running and chasing cats?)
- Reduction of blood flow to hands and feet, causing them to feel cold. Restrict tobacco usage and dress warmly (Well, she IS covered in fur and she didn't ask for a drag off my mom's cigarette, so I think we are good here. I am not looking to repeat the great biting incident that resulted from my attempts to dress her in a Halloween costume, so she better be warm enough in her fur.)
- Blue fingers and toes (Um, how exactly do I check for this?)
- Mental mood changes/depression (Hmmm...we will keep her away from the sharp objects this week.)
- Fainting (Does napping count?)
It is also apparently common for the medication to make one feel tired, and that is a side effect that we are seeing. Within 15 minutes after she takes it, she is napping. That gives me three short periods of time throughout the day to get some things done without the orange ball of craziness nipping at my heels. More importantly it gives Chupa the cat the opportunity to walk throughout the house without fear of being body slammed by an orange blur. There is a bright side to everything.
I have always wanted to live in a make-believe neighborhood. Think Mr. Rogers Neighborhood; not plastic freaky pre-planned suburban neighborhood.
When we were kids I loved visiting Heritage Hill. I could completely envision myself living in that weird old community and wearing costumes every day. Don't be mistaken, I didn't want to WORK there; I wanted to LIVE there.
My obsession with HH ended after our first trip to Disney World. Epcot Center completely trumped anything I had ever seen before! The costumes were brighter, the architecture cooler, and the food was MUCH better. My only decision centered around which country I would live in.
Flash forward many years and I am still fantasizing about living in these make-believe communities. Every time I am in a castle or a plantation my brain is trying to work out where I would put our furniture. The problem has always been that no one would ever allow me to live in these places. That is until Old Salem.
Old Salem is a unique neighborhood in Winston-Salem that was founded by the Moravians in 1766. It is a walking/living museum, yet there are still private homes intertwined with the buildings designated as historical sites. I could totally live there! I imagine a Saturday morning where I could walk my dog down the cobblestone streets, stopping at the bakery for fresh bread. Then we could stroll through the town square and wander up to the cemetery.
There is a hat shop, museums, Salem College, a tavern, and several other specialty buildings. I was happy to see a cobbler, but he only makes shoes from the 18th and 19th century and none of them had heels. I would avoid his shop. Damn flat shoes.
Since I can't quite convince Michael to move there, I figured the next best thing would be to relocate my parents. My mom seemed apprehensive about this, but she could envision my dad in period costume working at the blacksmith. He already seemed at home there. All the grandkids could visit and he would make them guns.
We all agreed that the best thing would be to transplant my sister Elizabeth to Old Salem. Her lease is up soon and she is possibly looking for a new place. Just the thought of her in this quiet and quaint community had us laughing to tears. She'd be the town drunk stumbling down the cobblestone streets heckling and throwing things at all the costumed ladies in their bonnets and long skirts. She could throw rowdy parties in the square and get fined by constables on horseback. We say this all in the name of love. If we didn't love her dearly, we would make her live in a fort instead. A fort, Elizabeth, a fort.
We finally have the schedule for Iona's next round of activities. She'll go in next Tuesday morning for a CT scan and if all looks well and the tumor isn't vascular, she will immediately have the surgery to remove the tumor. The ideal situation is that they will get out most, if not all the mass, and send her home on Wednesday. She will probably have to go through some external radiotherapy sessions to ensure the cancer is gone.
If the CT scan shows the tumor is vascular, our choices change radically. In this case we won't be able to do surgery and the next best option is to put her through injected radiation to target the tumor. Unfortunately this is a 7-10 day process and no one in North Carolina does this for pets. We would have to take her to Tennessee or Florida and it is a difficult and expensive process. We are obviously hoping that is not a necessary choice for us to make.
Until then, she is the same old funny dog. She's certainly enjoying the visit by my parents, as there are more people to pet her, and dad has the never-ending pocket of treats.
