If we could turn back time and start our journey at the Pacific Veterinary Emergency & Speciality Hospital in Lafayette or the Orinda Veterinary Clinic (even earlier) in the game, we would do it in a heartbeat. Both of these are independently owned and by all accounts, patient-centered. We took our dear Trumpet Vine to VEG Pleasant Hill on Sunday night, at which time he had a 106 fever. We were treated kindly and given some diagnostic tests. We were told initially that he would get some fluids to help ease his fever and then we were told that they successfully cooled him down with a fan and a wash cloth. I was so relieved to hear that everything was "fine" that I didn't push back when they told me he didn't need fluids or meds til morning. By Monday morning, Trumpet was miserable and weak. We went back to Pleasant Hill VEG and were transferred to San Ramon VEG. I had a $5,000 loan to get us started on treatment, which we were initially told would help cover us for 2 days of hospitalization but it got us through only several hours. The prognosis of Trumpet Vine went from hopeful to guarded to 50/50 to guarded to poor to hopeful depending on who you asked and when. When we learned of the poor prognosis initially, we asked for the medical team to keep fighting for Trumpet until the elderly couple who keeps him company a few days a week could visit him. When the couple arrived Trumpet rallied and went out on a walk and showed signs of hope. The next doctor on duty offered Trumpet a plasma transplant, which he responded well to. He remained on blood pressure meds at a fairly high dosage, but hope was definitely alive and well. Then we needed to add a feeding tube. At first, that sounded insane, but when I realized it would allow us to aspirate the excess fluids that Trumpet's stomach wasn't able to absorb or metabolize and we could offer him fluids and food, it made sense. I slept on the floor beside Trumpet and he had a stream of visitors of people who loved him. Anyone who has ever met Trumpet Vine knows that he does not like to be alone and he has literally never been alone since the day he joined our family. He's been with us or the elderly couple Lenora and Time, who consider themselves Trumpet's Aunt and Uncle. By Tuesday night, I had received an anonymous contribution of $5K, borrowed $3K from my mother, and used $10K of savings. The medical staff informed me they were seeing promising signs and raised his survival odds back up to 50/50. The one thing was that he needed to have the fluid drained from his lungs. If successful, it would be super good for him. If anything went sideways (and pretty much everything had), it would be 'game over.' I kept trying to visualize Trumpet Vine playing and running after he got over his illness and I couldn't conjure up that imagery. I could only see him at his memorial service. Each time, I took Trumpet for a walk, he headed straight for our vehicle. Trumpet had had enough of being hooked up to IVs, cords, catheders and being poked and prodded on. The IV fluids were not quenching his thirst and he wanted to go home. I had spent money I didn't have to try to spare the life of my baby, but even if I had all of the money in the world, it was reaching a point of feeling like keep Trumpet in these medical conditions--that even a human would struggle to make sense of--felt like the opposite of compassionate. Finally, when Dr. Alex and his nurse Destiny, I was heard. The team taught me how to tube feed and dispense meds to Trumpet and allowed me to take him home. Trumpet rode around in his stroller, visiting his peeps at Pet Food Express, the mailman, neighbors, his siblings, friends, and of course, Lenora and Tim.
We told Trumpet that if he wanted to fight, we would be here fighting right alongside with him. We also told him that if he had to go, we would miss him like crazy but we would understand. He fought at first and I believe, if he could have it his way, he would have fought even more. Early on Friday morning, around 4am Trumpet's breathing became more labored and he seemed to be struggling more than he had. We had started making peace late on Thursday night with the fact that he may finish healing in heaven not on earth. By 6am, that was undeniable. Trumpet's older sister Espi soothed him while I prepared Trumpet's favorite seat in the car--the passenger seat. When he got outside, the air was crisp and cool, which allowed him to get a good breathe of air. In the car, he listened to "Here Comes the Sun" as we drove into the morning sunrise. When we got back to the vet hospital, Trumpet stayed in his favorite seat in the whole world listening to the Beatles and the vet and nurse came to him. He transitioned out of this world and into doggy heaven where he has abundant green meadows to run in and as much water to drink as his little heart desires at 7:44am .
