Truly Reaching Out For Help...

[athenacp]

Oh geez, I have no words.....at least Leo will be in very good hands...I will be keeping both of you in my thoughts and prayers

 

[mistygirl]

You poor dear. You are doing the right thing as hard as it is. (another example of how much you are doing for him). Leo is like one of your children and if a doctor told you your child had to be hospitalized of course you would do it as hard as it is. I am hoping and praying that this will do the trick and that he will turn around and return to good health for you. You are being too critical of yourself. YOU are the reason Leo has made it this far and he is a fighter! You have done more than you are giving yourself credit for.

 

[Menolly07]

MistyGirl basically put it exactly as I would have. It IS like a hospital. Leo will have that complete care that he needs and a vet will be right there. I know you'll hate leaving him, but I hope you will hold tight to the fact that there are people there who know him and care. I don't know anybody who has gotten into veterinary medicine, docs or techs, who has done it for anything other than love of animals. He's going to have such wonderful care, not as good as his momma but nothing is, but he will have somebody there every single day. Maybe that will be the special extra? Fingers crossed! So much love to you both!!

 

[nordica]

So I had woken up on Tuesday, filled with a sick lump in my stomach, knowing I was going to have to drop Leo off at the Vet's that day. I had planned on allowing enough time before having to leave for work, so that I could spend a lot of quality time with him and shower him with tons of love. However, I found that I just... couldn't. I felt... removed... in a way, and just wanted to get it over with. I had given him his morning bath, and was able to get 20 waxworms into him, but shortly afterward, I had him packed up and on his way to be boarded. I had been told that I could bring any food/treats/toys/snuggly bits/hides and anything else to make Leo comfortable, as well as any pertinent information about him that I felt would be beneficial. Being the OCD Aries that I am, I was up until 2am the night before, typing up a FOUR PAGE instructional essay on Leo's habits and pattens, likes and dislikes, and little tricks about him that I've learned along the way... as if I were dropping him off with complete ******, instead of a trained veterinary staff. :roll: I couldn't help it; he's my baby. Needless to say, I brought quite the care package to be dropped off with him.

I held things together for the most part... that is, of course, until I actually had to hand him off. Then I quite thoroughly fell to pieces. I just felt like I was abandoning him. My biggest fear, that he would pass away, alone and in a foreign place, was staring me right in the face, and it took a full ten minutes of me sobbing in my truck before I could even muster the will to drive home. It was awful.

I found that during my last trip, I shied away from thinking too much about the situation.

My first morning back, Thursday, I woke up late (as is my usual, seeing as how I don't even get home from work until after 1am). I ended up laying in bed for close to an hour though... for months now, the need to take care of Leo was what had gotten me up before I was truly awake and ready, but without that need, that responsibility, I just... laid there. I felt... relief... that things were now out of my hands, and I could breathe a little bit. It was relaxing to know that I didn't NEED to get up, to clean off smeared poop, to refresh a basking towel, to draw a warm bath, to prepare to force-feed... it was a nice feeling. Of course, right on the heels of that feeling of relaxation was a sickly feeling of guilt. How could I lay there, luxuriating in a sense of freedom, when my little Leo was all alone in a strange place, surrounded by strange people who didn't know him? Tears came to my eyes, and I felt horrible.

I finally got up, walked by his empty, cold tank, and felt even worse.

Today, I drove to the Vets, so that I could pay Leo a little visit. They put me in one of the exam rooms, where I was able to get an update on him. I was told that he was just about finished with his barium swallow x-rays, and that he'd been started on the Amoxicillin and Palm Oil. He was being fed a slurry every morning, and was still pooping multiple times a day. I was also told that everyone thought he was so cute when he cuddled up with his little stuffed animal that I had dropped off with him.

And then they brought him in.

He looked TERRIBLE. Even worse than when I dropped him off, and he had been looking bad enough that day. The fat pads on top of his head and above his eyes were non-existent, his eyes were sunken in, and everything was stretched tight around his skull. His hip bones jutted out even more prominently than when I last saw him. He looked so weak, and barely opened his eyes when they placed him in front of me.

The weather here has been warm, so I took him outside with me, along with a little container of butterworms. We sat in the bed of my truck, as the liner is black, and therefor very toasty. I tried to get him to eat something, but nothing worked, and I was only able to get one into him. He laid very still for a while, and then finally started to move around. He actually started roaming quite a bit, though kept trying to crawl off of the edge of the tailgate. At one point, he pooped in the back of my truck, and the only way I can describe it, is that it looked like very slightly thickened soy milk, with tiny dots of red-ish oil interspersed throughout. I'm assuming it's because of what they're feeding him, and because of the Palm Oil.

After a while, he seemed to tire himself out, so I got on an eye-level with him, and asked him what he wanted me to do. Seriously, I did. I asked him if he still wanted to fight, or if it was time to let him go. I had hoped to get some kind of... feeling... from him, some intuition, of what I should do. He just stared back at me with his tired, sunken eyes. I cried a little, and in a way, I felt like I was saying goodbye.

I returned him to the Vet Tech, and left a request that Dr. Joseph call me at her earliest convenience.

I think I may have come to a decision. Actually, I know I have, it's just hard to acknowledge. Granted, I want to talk to Dr. Joseph first, but if, IF, the latest rounds of meds and nursing doesn't do anything to turn him around... I'm going to euthanize him. I just can't do it anymore, I can't put him through any more suffering. I can't even begin to describe how absolutely wretched he looked when I saw him today. His body is failing him. It's FAILING him. I need to talk to Dr. Joseph, to see if in her professional opinion we can turn this thing around. If she doesn't think so, and if I don't see any improvement after his boarding... I need to accept the fact that it will be time to let him go.

I don't take this decision lightly, and it's not set in stone, as it hinges on upcoming test results and how he looks in two weeks, but it's something that I'm coming to terms with, and am accepting it as a viable outcome.

 

[darkon]

It must be so hard what you're going through right now, and I'm grateful that Leo has an owner who cares so much about him. You and Leo will be in my thoughts and prayers, I hope everything turns out for the best.

 

[dragonlover3]

nordica,
You and Leo have fought so long and hard! You're doing every thing you possibly can to help him and I believe he knows this too!

Making a decision about whether or when the time is right to end suffering is one of the hardest
things someone loving their beardie will ever go through. The decision you make will be the right one!

I'm thinking about you and Leo,
Hugs and Tears,
Amanda

 

[mistygirl]

As with any pet who we love like a member of the family, it is one of the hardest decisions to make. I have had to do it more than once with my furry friends. See what your vet's opinion is but you and only you are the one who knows the right decision and you love your darling Leo as hard as someone ever can love. Our dear friends both furry and scaly know we will take care of them and the last thing we do FOR them is the hardest for US. I am sending hugs, thoughts and prayers to you and your dear, sweet Leo.

 

[Drache613]

Hello Megan,

I know you are doing everything you can for Leo. I simply can't understand why they are not able to discover what is going on. It is frustrating for me & he isn't even my baby. It seems like it should be relatively simple to figure this out. If his liver & kidneys are fine, it has to be fixable, unless it's cancer.
I can understand your decision, as it is the best for him if he is suffering. I really hope they are able to find something, anything with the latest tests.
I will keep you two in my thoughts. I am sorry it has gone this direction. This is never an easy decision, ever.


Tracie

 

[Menolly07]

I can't even begin to know what to say at this point. I wish I had some sort of words of comfort to offer you. I can tell you that I've gotten so terribly attached to Little Leo that I cried and scared the daylights out of my dinnermates this evening. I feel so horribly, for both of you, on a very deep and reactive level. It's so very hard to know when to say "enough," especially when they simply can't speak up for themselves. I know so many people are out here, shedding tears and pulling for you both and sending as much love as they can and just begging any higher power to help your little guy. I almost put "our" little guy. I guess he sort of is, not in the big "our" way but in a little way. He's got a lot of folks out here who care an awful lot about him. Aunties and Uncles I suppose you could say.

I truly believe that any decision you make will be the very best for Leo because you love him and only want what is best for him. Love to you both.

 

[kaykay87]

as a puddle of tears surround me, i pray that you and leo come out the other end smiling, i hope this long long dark tunnel has a big bright light at the end of it,like everyone here, ive followed leos story from the start and i bow down to u with the upmost respect, as i continue to follow your heartbraking story i hope and i pray that the next time i open my laptop and log into this site, that i can smile and feel warm inside,

i truly truly hope with all my heart that the next time u see leo, u see improvements, and have answers.

if not...... (stops typing and wipes away tears) .. i wish that u do not blame yourself as you have done everything u can....and may leo rest upstairs with the angels

best wishes to u and leo, hugs, prayers, anythink it takes for all this hurt to be turned around.

 

[GemmyLou07]

Hello, i am very sorry to hear about your beardie such a gorgeous lad.
To be honest with you i had a beardie that had the same sorta symptoms,
i was told it was pneumonia and i had to give him baytril ( think thats what its called) through a syrinege :/ he had that for a week and there was no improvment at all he just got worse.. he would have a drink and then 5 mins later bubble at the mouth and nose unfortunatly he passed away on the last day of his meds.
( i hatched him out, he had a curved spine and deformed chest bone due to his egg sac being wrapped around him when he hatched, he passed away at the age of 7 months.. 5 months more than the vet predicted)

i also found out that force feeding can cause more problems than you think.. it can go down into there lungs rather than there stomachs.
Im not saying yours is going to pass away just sharing my story as there is simularities.

All my prayers for leo and all my thoughts are with you both

 

[Fortunate]

I have been following this thread for a while and now i am in tears!
I know how you are feeling, I have been through this a few times with various pets, you do what you need to do - you know Leo better than anyone and you know when its time - you will feel it.
I am so hoping Leo recovers, i am crying just thinking about the difficult time you are going through.
After all the time, energy and money you spend on sick animals it is very frustrating when they dont improve - but just think about how much more comfortable he is with you, in your care, there are 100's of beardies (and other animals) who have been worse off, You are giving Leo the best chance of recovery you can, you are truley an inspiration and I admire you so much for it!

*hugs* to you, Leo and the vets helping you and Leo!

 

[Coliosis]

I just read through this whole thread and am now in tears You truly are an amazing beardie owner and he is soo lucky to have you. This has to be soo hard for you, especially now. But man what an adorable little fighter you've got! I truly hope he pulls through this, I can only imagine the frustration and heartache. Thoughts are with you both!

 

[nordica]

I remember when I first laid eyes on Leo. It was at the Sacramento Reptile Show 2010. I was a single-beardie-household at that time, and while I loved my little Spaz fiercely, I had never before seen a larger, more beautiful beardie than Leo. I simply had to hold him, and the kind couple managing the booth willingly let me. He was such a warm, dopey guy, all flopped out in my arms, eventually crawling up to firmly nestle himself in my hair. I fell in love with him that day. I wanted to bring him home with me right on the spot, but unfortunately didn't have the money in my account, and so left empty-handed.

For the next week, I thought of him constantly, and so emailed the couple who had ran the booth. They replied the very next day, saying as how they remembered me, and made me an offer to purchase Leo that I could easily afford. A flurry of emails and arrangements and a couple weeks later, and I drove to pick up my new scaly baby.

He was even more beautiful than I had remembered, and I couldn't hide the massive grin that split my face. When he was handed to me, I placed him on my shoulder, covered him up with my sweater, and held him with hands that I knew would always be there for him...



I remember the first time that I took Leo out on a walk with me. I was living downtown at the time, and most everywhere I frequented was within walking distance. It was a lovey and warm Autumn day, so I held him to my shoulder as I headed on down to a favorite cafe. He seemed to have no clue that he was supposed to "hold on" and instead continually tried to climb to the top of my head. I can only imagine what people driving by must have thought, seeing a woman walking down the street, trying to wrestle a rather large lizard out of her ponytail.

While at the cafe, Leo sat on my lap, soaking up not only the sun, but the immense amount of attention paid him by random pedestrians. He did so incredibly well, and I was so proud of him. After a good two hours, I began my walk back, but it was such an incredibly nice day, I detoured to a local pub, where he once again was showered with massive amounts of attention from strangers. As it was nearing sunset, the temperature had dipped enough that Leo was content with curling up underneath my hair (which I let down for him), contentedly staying there until we arrived back home and he was placed into his tank...



I remember when we moved into our new house. It was cold and rainy, and I was stressed with worry about how everyone was going to stay warm during the transition. I called upon the son of a friend who was helping us move, and charged him with the important job of keeping Leo warm for the next few hours. I showed him how to lay Leo upon his chest and zip his sweatshirt around him, and made sure that he knew to always keep a hand on Leo, as he had never quite learned how to "hold on". Every now and then, I'd check on Leo to make sure that he was okay, only to be met with little droopy, bewildered eyes.

Once we had gotten everything moved into the house and garage, and everyone was celebrating with a drink, I immediately set about getting everyone's terrarium situated. I had turned on the heater in the house, as it was easily in the mid-50s, and I worked as quickly as I could to get the tanks up to an acceptable temperature. When Leo was finally handed back to me, he seemed to take things in stride, and appeared much less stressed than I was at the time...



I remember last Summer, when Leo was allowed to roam in the overgrown backyard that we had yet to get under control. He had never moved faster than a casual saunter, and was content to explore every inch of yard I'd allow. He never looked happier than when he was outside.

The large patches of clover were his favorite to munch on. On one particular day, I was sitting in the grass with Leo basking on my leg. After about twenty minutes, he flopped off of me onto the grass, and began his usual routine of exploration. After a few minutes though, something in his movements caught my eye. He had flattened himself out as low to the ground as he could get, and then... stalked is the only word I can use to describe what he was doing. I watched, fascinated, as he slinked through the bushy patches of grass, stealthily making his way to one of the larger patches of overgrown clover. When he was about six inches away, he stopped, gathered his feet underneath him, and in a flash pounced, POUNCED, all four legs in the air, landing in the clover patch, and immediately set about turning everything into his own personal culinary war zone. That clover never stood a chance. I jumped up and ran over to him, and as I dragged him out of his leafy bliss, I saw that he had a tiny, now homeless, caterpillar sitting right on the top of his head. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes...



*************



My little Leo died in my arms today.

During his time being boarded at the Vets, he had declined drastically, and had become very weak. He had started vomiting again as well, and had developed a permanent black beard. It had become apparent that there was nothing further to be done, and I had finally come to the extremely difficult decision to let him go. I ended up dropping my last trip, so that I could take him home with me, and spend some quality time with Leo, making sure that he knew he was loved, and saying my goodbyes. I really couldn't afford it, but I didn't care.

When I picked him up on Thursday, he looked wretched. He was completely sunken in. With tears falling down my face, I informed the staff that I would spend Friday with him, and then bring him back in to be euthanized on Saturday. The news was met by numerous sad expressions, as they had come to love him as well.

For most of Friday, I kept Leo by my side. I didn't bother attempting to feed him anything, as I knew he would just vomit it back up, but I tried to make him as comfortable as I could, with my heat pad and lots of blankies. The hours passed as we watched movie after movie together, every hour seeing more and more tears fall from my eyes. I gently stroked his head in his favorite way, and tried to let him know that I loved him very deeply, and that he had fought long and hard enough.

Today had to have been one of the worst days of my Life. I went through most of Leo's morning routine, with his bath and heat pad cuddle time, all the while trying to hold back the abyss of sorrow that threatened to devour me. When it came time to pack him up, I found myself wandering from room to room with him, if for no other reason than the fact that I knew he would never roam those rooms again.

I cried all the way to the Vets.

The staff was the epitome of kindness and sympathy, which only made my tears fall all the harder. They set me up in a private room, where shortly after I was met by Dr. Joseph. Since I had stated my desire to be with Leo until the end, she explained that she would take Leo into the back to inject him in an area of his abdominal cavity (as finding a vein for this can be difficult), and then would quickly return him to me, where I could stay with him as long as I wanted.

A few minutes later found Leo in my arms, looking weak and sleepy. I had him wrapped up in his fleece blankie, as I gently stroked his head, and whispered that everything was going to be okay, and that I was sorry. He started to curl in on himself, as he had always done when scared. Suddenly, he went into a sort of convulsed state, arched, and violently shook his head, flinging vomit all over me. I just held him and cried all the harder. Dr. Joseph came back in shortly afterward, to check on him, and I sobbingly explained what happened. She took him from me and placed him on the examination table, to check his heartbeat, but he gaped and hissed at her, and tried to hide under his travel carrier. It was one of the worst things I've ever seen.

She took Leo into the back again, for another injection, this one closer to his heart.

When he was once again returned to me a few minutes later, I took one look at him and knew he was fading. I cradled him again in my arms, my tears falling on his beautiful, broken body, and softly told him that he could go. He felt so light in my arms, and looked so lifeless. Right as I was wondering if it was over, his eyes popped open, his body went rigid, and his mouth opened in one final, desperate gasp.

As his head slowly lowered and his mouth closed once more, I knew it was over.

I stayed there for so long, and held him so gently. I re-swaddled his body, and gathered my pile of used tissues. I sat there, with my poor, lovely Leo in my arms, and tried to think about all of the wonderful times he had given me, but I found that I was too lost in my sorrow.

Dr. Joseph and a Vet Tech came in after a while, and I nodded that I was ready to let them have him. As I handed him over, I was given a hug, and told that I did everything and more for him, and that I had made the right choice. As I had opted to have Leo privately cremated and his ashes returned to me, I was told that they would call me in a week or two, to pick up his remains. As a final act of charity, Dr. Joseph offered to perform a necropsy, free of charge, to see if she could find the source of his wasting illness. I agreed.



*************



I remember every laugh that my little Leo gave me, every smile, every bright moment that blessed my days. I loved everything about him; his droopy, expressive eyes, the way he basked with his tongue hanging out (thus giving him the nickname "Jabba"), the way he had as much grace as a dumptruck, the way he loved being showered with attention. I will even love being given the opportunity to fight for him as hard as I did, for as long as I was able, though that part will take some time... for now, I find myself in a broken pile on the couch, sobbing away all of the stress and worry and pain of the last seven months, still wearing the vomit-stained clothes of earlier.

 

[dragonlover3]

Leo fought a long hard fight with you by his side, caring for
and loving him. It took an amazing strength to let him go. He's
not suffering any more and he knows how much you love him!
He will always be with you in his piece of your heart!
I'm so sorry, nordica!
Hugs and Sobbing with You!
Amanda