Nightmare
December 31st 2009 02:30
We nearly lost Scratchy. It happened more than a week ago and if I haven't written about it yet it's because it was one of the more traumatic things I have seen. It was also all my fault.
Scratchy is epileptic. He had his first seizure just weeks after we got him about two years ago, and he has been on medication ever since. Every morning and evening he bears with us, in his perennially good-natured way, as we prise his jaws open and drop tablets into the back of his throat.
The medication doesn't prevent seizures, but it limits them. It takes time to get the medication levels right — it varies a lot between individuals — and we had only recently reached a stage where Scratchy was having a fit on an average of every six weeks or so. That, said the vet, is about the best one can hope for.
And then, one evening recently, I forgot to give my big brindle his tablets.
I woke about 2.30am to a shuddering noise. It's a noise I recognised, caused by Scratchy's spasming legs kicking the sofa or a coffee table or a wall. I went out to find him, to make sure he wasn't hurting himself.
Scratchy's first epileptic episodes after we got him came in groups. He would have two, three or even four attacks spread over up to 24 hours. They are called cluster attacks. Once we got him on medication there were, gratefully, no more cluster attacks.
You never get used to watching an epileptic seizure. It's hideous, and it never gets less hideous no matter how many times you watch it. It must be worse — far worse — in people. The only solace is that the sufferers aren't in pain. And, in Scratchy's case, I had the solace that, after a fit, there would be a quiet few weeks before the next one.
But not the other night.
After the first seizure, Scratchy appeared to start the normal recovery process. After 10 minutes or so of heavy breathing, he slowly and unsteadily got to his feet and started walking around. You can almost watch, through his eyes, the fog clearing from his brain as the circuitry returns to normal.
The other night Scratchy walked outside, turned left and left again into a narrow area down the side of our house, and then collapsed and had a second seizure. I watched helplessly — in this narrow space I couldn't stop his legs hitting the side of the house. Then he had a third seizure. And then a fourth.
Somewhere about this time the realisation came to me that I hadn't given him his tablets the previous evening. It was now almost 3am, and Scratchy couldn't stop fitting. One would finish, and while he was gasping for a few breaths, another would start. My wife and I watched in despair.
I got his tablets and tried to get some into him between fits. But he was panting rapidly, violently, and every time I showed a tablet into his mouth, it shot back out on a wave of hot breath. It was one of the most frustratingly futile things I have done in my life.
All I could think was that this couldn't go on forever. But my wife was thinking a little more clearly. As the number of consecutive fits reached perhaps 10, she found and rang an emergency vet number. The danger, she was told, was overheating. The firm recommendation, they said, was to bring him to the veterinary hospital.
Scratchy weighs close to 40 kilograms, and he was wedged in a tight space. As the next seizure ended, however, I picked him up and carried him through the house and out to the car. I don't really understand how I did it. It is possible that I didn't breathe while moving him. After I put him carefully in the car, I almost collapsed. I had to stand with hands on knees and gasp for breath, as if I had just run a sprint race.
Whether by coincidence or somehow triggered by being moved, Scratchy's seizures stopped. At a guess, he had 15 fits, with a gap of no more than a few seconds between the second one and the final one.
At the hospital they gave him Valium, they took his temperature (41.7 degrees — normal is 39 degrees), they gave him an intravenous shot of his epilepsy medication, and then they wheeled him away for an ice bath.
He was in hospital for two days, and it was another several days before he was, miraculously it seems to me, cleared of organ and muscle damage. Now, it even looks like we can rule out brain damage.
Four days ago he managed to get up on the sofa on his own, and two days ago we took him for a gentle first walk.
We have our boy back, and I won't ever again forget to give him his medication.
Scratchy is epileptic. He had his first seizure just weeks after we got him about two years ago, and he has been on medication ever since. Every morning and evening he bears with us, in his perennially good-natured way, as we prise his jaws open and drop tablets into the back of his throat.
The medication doesn't prevent seizures, but it limits them. It takes time to get the medication levels right — it varies a lot between individuals — and we had only recently reached a stage where Scratchy was having a fit on an average of every six weeks or so. That, said the vet, is about the best one can hope for.
And then, one evening recently, I forgot to give my big brindle his tablets.
I woke about 2.30am to a shuddering noise. It's a noise I recognised, caused by Scratchy's spasming legs kicking the sofa or a coffee table or a wall. I went out to find him, to make sure he wasn't hurting himself.
Scratchy's first epileptic episodes after we got him came in groups. He would have two, three or even four attacks spread over up to 24 hours. They are called cluster attacks. Once we got him on medication there were, gratefully, no more cluster attacks.
You never get used to watching an epileptic seizure. It's hideous, and it never gets less hideous no matter how many times you watch it. It must be worse — far worse — in people. The only solace is that the sufferers aren't in pain. And, in Scratchy's case, I had the solace that, after a fit, there would be a quiet few weeks before the next one.
But not the other night.
After the first seizure, Scratchy appeared to start the normal recovery process. After 10 minutes or so of heavy breathing, he slowly and unsteadily got to his feet and started walking around. You can almost watch, through his eyes, the fog clearing from his brain as the circuitry returns to normal.
The other night Scratchy walked outside, turned left and left again into a narrow area down the side of our house, and then collapsed and had a second seizure. I watched helplessly — in this narrow space I couldn't stop his legs hitting the side of the house. Then he had a third seizure. And then a fourth.
Somewhere about this time the realisation came to me that I hadn't given him his tablets the previous evening. It was now almost 3am, and Scratchy couldn't stop fitting. One would finish, and while he was gasping for a few breaths, another would start. My wife and I watched in despair.
I got his tablets and tried to get some into him between fits. But he was panting rapidly, violently, and every time I showed a tablet into his mouth, it shot back out on a wave of hot breath. It was one of the most frustratingly futile things I have done in my life.
All I could think was that this couldn't go on forever. But my wife was thinking a little more clearly. As the number of consecutive fits reached perhaps 10, she found and rang an emergency vet number. The danger, she was told, was overheating. The firm recommendation, they said, was to bring him to the veterinary hospital.
Scratchy weighs close to 40 kilograms, and he was wedged in a tight space. As the next seizure ended, however, I picked him up and carried him through the house and out to the car. I don't really understand how I did it. It is possible that I didn't breathe while moving him. After I put him carefully in the car, I almost collapsed. I had to stand with hands on knees and gasp for breath, as if I had just run a sprint race.
Whether by coincidence or somehow triggered by being moved, Scratchy's seizures stopped. At a guess, he had 15 fits, with a gap of no more than a few seconds between the second one and the final one.
At the hospital they gave him Valium, they took his temperature (41.7 degrees — normal is 39 degrees), they gave him an intravenous shot of his epilepsy medication, and then they wheeled him away for an ice bath.
He was in hospital for two days, and it was another several days before he was, miraculously it seems to me, cleared of organ and muscle damage. Now, it even looks like we can rule out brain damage.
Four days ago he managed to get up on the sofa on his own, and two days ago we took him for a gentle first walk.
We have our boy back, and I won't ever again forget to give him his medication.
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Comment by Heidi/Clyde
How I feel for you. We lost two of our dogs to seizures. The first was a very loved elderly Staffie who developed pancreatitis. He had had a couple of fits dealt with by medication and then he went into one that wouln't stop. Our son and I managed to get him into the car and take him to our lovely vets who sedated him until my husband could get out to say goodbye then euthenased him.
The second was much worse. She was a truly ugly Bull Terrier with the sweetest nature possible (we had a long list of people who wanted to steal her from us) we called her Lily because when you are that ugly you have to have a beautiful name. When she was about 9 and shortly after we moved from Kangaroo Island and our fabulous Vets, she developed insulinoma which is incredibly rare. It is sort of the opposite of Diabetes, cysts in the liver constantly pump out insulin so the dog (or person) has a constantly low blood sugar level. Any exercise or over excitement resulted in a terrifying fit. Usually the dog dies within a year but we kept Lily going by feeding her 6 times a day with Golden Syrup on every meal and always having a bottle of the stuff with us. Needless to say Lily lapped up the spoiling (she went everywhere with us) and thoroughly enjoyed the 4 years grace we won for her.
In the end the inevitable happened and she had a massive fit we couldn't stop. When we got her to the vets I found the Vet who had diagnosed her and had actually seen one other case in her early years as a Vet was off duty and one I really didn't like much was in charge.
She scoffed at my insistence that this fit was the final one. It was much worse than any other and I'd already loaded her with sugar to no avail, "we'll just sedate her to stop the fitting and get some Glucose into her, she'll be as right as rain" She did that 5 times and every time our beautiful girl woke to terror as she fitted again.
In the end the vet nurse quietly went and rang our vet and asked her to come and rescue us, which she did, gently euthanasing Lily and giving her the end she needed.
We've owned a lot of dogs by now and most of them we have had to make a decision to ease their dying but that was the most terrible one of all.
Like you I was utterly desperate at watching helplessly as the fits went on and on. For Lily there was no medication to save her, I am so glad that Scratchy has another chance. I think if you'd lost him there would be many many people who would be grieving, he is such a character.
I did have one other encounter with the disliked vet when a foster Greyhound needed a dressing changed. I asked her to sedate the hound because she was in a lot of pain from a terrible injury, she wouldn't do so and when the poor little hound screamed and screamed she told me "Oh that's just Greyhounds, they always make a fuss." I absolutely refuse to see her now, I'd prefer to travel an extra hour to a different vet than deal with her.
Jennie.
Comment by Chris Champion
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Thank you for these kindest of words, but can you please stop putting bloody tears in my eyes
I loved your story about Lily. What a great tribute.
Scratchy seems pretty much back to normal now. He looks like he lost several kilograms in the days after the attacks, but I can already see him starting to fill out again. Soon he will once more look like a greyhound couch potato than a lean racing machine. It suits him.
Our vet, who has done work with racing greyhounds and so knows the breed well, says as a rule of thumb they are at their ideal weight if, when they are standing normally, you can see two and a half ribs.
Scratchy is more a one-rib kind of guy.
Jennie, I wish you and your family and every animal within cooee of you a happy, healthy and safe 2010.
Chris
Comment by grapecat
We have a greyhound, and when he broke his leg my partner had to carry him from the park to our neighbours car, and then into the vet. We don't know how he did it - adrenaline maybe - or maybe just the knowledge that it NEEDS to be done. Humphrey only weighs 30 kilos so I can imagine how it must have been for you! Well done!
Comment by Chris Champion
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I hope Humphrey recovered. Greyhounds seems a little accident-prone - must be all those long limbs and fine bones.
It was odd carrying Scratchy. I don't remember it clearly, but I have a sense of puffed cheeks and bulging eyes. I think I was operating on adrenaline myself.
Anyway, there were signs today that he is pretty much back to normal - eating Daisy's leftovers and standing, staring longingly towards the pantry from approximately midday in preparation for his 6.30pm main meal.
And he has a new trick - he's eating peaches off the tree!
Comment by gh zoom addict
it's lovely to hear that he's stealing the peaches from the tree though!
i hope itchy and scratchy didn't get frightened by melbourne's new year's eve storms - the lightening was better than the fireworks!.. but not so great for doggies.
wishing you and yours and safe and well 2010.
Comment by Chris Champion
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It's a race between Scratchy and the possums as to who can get the peaches. Actually, the possums are helping Scratchy - the possums nibble and drop pieces and Scratchy picks them off the ground. Unfortunately, the peach tree stands in an ornamental flower bed surrounded by ferns and potted plants, and every time he goes in there to collect peach droppings, he does damage.
If he's not careful, he will so infuriate Little Boss, who's the gardener around here, so much that he will be back in hospital.
The new year's eve storm alarmed the heck out of Daisy, who absolutely hates thunder. The only thing Scratchy is afraid of is missing dinner.
All the best to you and your family for a happy and healthy 2010
Comment by Janet Collins
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Glad to hear all worked out well in the end. I doubt whether Scratchy will forget the whole thing either.
Comment by Chris Champion
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Comment by Roux 'b Doux
Scratchy, lad, you've got to remind your Big Boss about your pills even if you don't like taking them.
I'm so glad you are feeling better now and hope you continue to do so. Keep taking care of yourself and be healthy. Those peaches should be good for you but don't upset Little Boss too much, she might block your access to them.
Roux 'b Doux
Note from Roux's person,
Chris, anyone could have forgotten the pills, I've done it with antibiotics, which I will freely admit aren't are critical as the ones you give Scrathcy, but it happens. I hope you aren't beating yourself up too much and I'm so very glad Scratchy is better.
Janice
Comment by Chris Champion
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Comment by Anonymous
I also have a dog who has epilepsy. He's 5 years old and started having seizures when he was about 6 months old. Like Scratchy's, they were regular, every 6-8 weeks. A few weeks ago he had a 'cluster' of fits just as you described. He would come out of one for a few seconds, panting like crazy, before heading straight into another. The worst thing was, we live in Spain and my Spanish is only very basic. It was 10pm on a Sunday night and when we rang the emergency vets, we were told there was no emergency vet available in our town and we would have to put him in the car and drive about 5-6 miles to the nearest available one. It's horrendous watching your 'friend' so helpless. Luckily, we have syringes of Diazipan which we give to our dog when he fits and the vet told us on the phone that we could give him another shot... up to four because that was all they could do for him anyway if we took him into the surgery. Because we only had one shot left #which I'd already administered#we had to drive all around the town having no idea how to find the emergency farmacy - all the time our little boy fitting in my lap. We eventually found one and got more Diazipan. About 4 hours after it started and the full 4 doses of Diazipan later, he eventually stopped fitting.
He seemed fine the next day. I took him for a very short walk #about 10 minutes# and he imediately had a fit afterwards. He seemed OK again after a short time and two days later I walked him for anout 10 minutes. Again he had a fit. This time, I left him for 4-5 days before walking him again and since then he seems to be back to normal. The only difference is his muscles in his legs seem to go into spasm a lot. I don't know whether it's when he's cold or whether he has been left with a weaker nervous system, but he seems OK.
After all that, I wanted to ask you whether you have Diazipan or something similar to give to Scratchy when he has a fit? My dog certainly stops fitting quicker with it than he did without it.
Comment by sumnerusa
Today, a friend of mine related her experience with epileptic seizures with her labrador retriever. Rather than put him on Phenobarbitol, the vet suggested she put her lab on a gluten free holistic dog food. She did this and the dog has been seizure free for almost 2 months.
I am not suggesting you take your greyhound off the medication, but I would speak to your vet and get his or her opinion. I wish I had known about this as I would have tried this first before ever putting her on that dangerous medication. I think I might still have her as she was only 7 when she died.
Comment by Chris Champion
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Thank you so much for your comment - and huge apologies for not responding to it sooner. Somehow I missed the notification, and it's only today, with the new comment by sumnerusa, that I noticed yours.
I don't have Diazipan. It's never been mentioned to me, and I don't know anything about it. I have nothing other than Phenobarbitol. More on that in a minute when I respond to sumnerusa.
I am astonished - and very happy - that your dog has recovered from a four-hour seizure episode. I think the Scratchy nightmare took, at most, 40 minutes. Perhaps I should ask if you have recovered from such an experience!
I say I'm "astonished" because, as I said in the blog post, the message I got was that the danger in these situations is internal overheating. Or, to put it another way, muscle and organ melt-down.
Maybe Scratchy wasn't anywhere near critical in that regard, which raises the question why our emergency veterinary hospital made such a fuss about the potential damage.
Anyway, I shall ask about Diazipan in a couple of weeks when I visit my own vet for more Phenobarbitol. And I thank you sincerely for the time you spent on your comment.
Warm regards,
Chris
Comment by Chris Champion
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Many thanks for your comment, and for sharing the story about Lily.
My understanding of normal procedure for canine epilepsy is prescription of Phenobarbitol, playing with the dosage until seizures are reduced to one every six weeks or better, with the proviso that the dosage is not high enough to cross the line into toxicity danger level.
My vet does a blood tests on Scratchy every time his dosage is changed to check toxicity level.
If that line is crossed - and Scratchy happens to be one half tablet per day short of the line - than the procedure is to move to a cocktail involving Phenobaritol and other drugs - modern ones whose names I have forgotten, and the ancient but effective potassium bromide.
It's not clear from your comment whether Lily had an allergic reaction to Phenobarbitol or a reaction based on toxicity. Either way, I take on board the message that Phenobarbitol intake and effects need to be monitored regularly.
The "gluten-free holistic" dog food is definitely worth following up, and many thanks for letting me know about it. Can you tell me any more about it? Is there a commercial brand name?
Warm regards,
Chris
Comment by sumnerusa
There are several gluten free dog foods. I use one called Nutro Holistic. It is rather pricy. $30.99 is what I pay for 15 pounds. They like the taste and I feel it's worth the money.
I wish you the best of luck and I do hope the treatment for your greyhound is successful
Comment by Chris Champion
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I assumed you had been through the same systems and processes. I will definitely now follow your suggestion and ask about gluten-free diets, and I'll let you know what happens in future posts.
Many thanks again,
Chris