Last Monday morning I took Belle, our sweet little doggie, for her usual pre-breakfast walk. We have enjoyed this walk together for the past 12+ years. Walking a dog can the best part of anyone’s day, so if you don’t have a dog, do yourself a favor and get one.
But, I digress. Belle usually leads out and runs happily by my side causing me to walk at a fast, healthy pace. But that morning she lacked her usual enthusiasm and walked slowly. So slowly that I picked her up when we got to the top of the hill and carried her home.
When I put her down she attempted to take a step then crumbled to the floor. She began to pant hard, then the pant became a grunt with loud guttural sounds. She changed positions often, first she laid on her side, then on her belly, then she struggled to stand and gingerly took a few steps. Only to lie down again and continue to change positions every few minutes. She was obviously in pain.
It was an awful! Mary and I thought for sure she was dying. I petted her gently and tried to calm her with soft words, but nothing seemed to help. The whole scene lasted about 25 minutes; then she quieted, rested, and slept comfortable for a short hour.
With tears in our eyes we watched as she walked to her dish, drank some water and quickly ate her breakfast. It was as if we were watching a miracle.
We called our vets office as soon as she opened and a short time later the doctor examined her and who found nothing wrong. She was her usual happy, but concerned self. Concerned because she doesn’t like shots or the surgeries she has had there over the years. (They’re a story for another day.)
She had a normal chest x-ray and while we all waited for the results of some blood tests I took Belle for a short walk. I shouldn’t have! She began the panting thing again; I picked her up and carried her back to the vet, so she could see what we had described. I must say, though, that it was a much milder attack and didn’t last nearly as long.
Blood tests were normal, and Doctor and I agreed that she must be having heart pain. We made an appointment to see the vet cardiologist the next day. As luck would have it, Belle developed a severe spell on the way to the vets office which the heart doctor saw.
“Nothing wrong with Belle’s heart!” She said after a listen and a quick ultra sound of Belle’s heart. “But,”she added, “our orthopedic surgeon was here when you brought her in, and he thinks Belle could be having trouble with a disk in her neck. Would you like him to see her?”
After his exam she was diagnosed with a disk and given medicines to relieve the pain, reduce the inflammation, and relax her muscles. After a week on this course Belle is nearing 100% and we are tapering her meds.
You might think this story is about Belle,or about how awful Mary and I felt when we saw our loved dog in pain and thought she was dying. That was not an entirely new feeling, as we both have had to “put down” loved pets as young kids, and as adults. But Belle was especially loved. Our friends tell us that if they come back in a second life, they want to come back as “Mary’s and Par’s dog!”
No, the real point of the story is not about Belle, Mary, or me; it’s about how awful parents must feel over the death of a child. As a pediatrician I have seen too many kids die. Even one is too many!
I remember a boy I treated many years ago with aplastic anemia. This disease, of unknown cause, stops the bone marrow from making blood cells. Today it is treated with bone marrow transplant but at that time bone marrow transplant was in it’s infancy and not very common. However, we had arranged for the boy, his sister – who was to be the donor, and their mother to fly from the Midwest to Seattle for a transplant. They were to leave on Monday morning; he died Sunday night. I felt like such a failure and cried so hard at the funeral that his mother had to comfort me. Then I felt like a real wimp! How do parents recover from such a devastating loss?
I have no idea what I would do if one of my now grown kids or one of my grand kids died. I suppose I would get over it, there is no other option, but I don’t think I would be the same person ever again.
So then, how do we deal with parents in a situation like this? I’m not sure, but unless we have had a son or daughter die we do not have any idea how they feel. The best we can do is care for them. Sometimes people avoid seeing grieving parents, it’s too hard, we don’t know what to say! But here is a time when friends, neighbors and family support is so essential! Praying with them helps, too. So does eating with them.
I’m sorry this post has become morbid. Please don’t look at it as negative; look at it as a reminder that the loss of a child is the worse loss a parent can experience. If you know someone who has suffered this experience, let them lean on you. You will never know what to say, but listening to them, holding them – if that’s what they need and want, and being there is more important that what you say! Be there for them, and hope and pray that you will never know what they are feeling!
And, by the way, Belle and I had a great walk this morning, but don’t tell the vets. They told us not to walk her for six weeks. Belle, had a different opinion. The walk was very short, and I carried her part way home. Both she and I enjoyed it!