The long, long, road to recovery...

Two days after we got home she started sneezing.  Not your run of the mill ah-choo a few times and it's over sneezing, rather violent sneezing fits where she sprayed food and water out of her nose.  She couldn't eat or drink without sneezing.  Sometimes she wouldn't eat at all and we had trouble getting her to even eat enough to take her medicine.

Luckily, the surgeons at CSU had already set us up with specialists near our home town.  We took Abby to Carolina Veterinary Specialists and learned that the stitches inside her mouth had come undone and a hole had opened up in the roof of her mouth causing food and water to gather in the empty cavity and trigger her sneezing fits.  The surgeon there stitched her up and recommended that we switch her to canned food and roll her food into small meatballs so she wouldn't have to chew or eat.  The fact that I was having to take her off home-cooked foods that I knew were balanced and nutritious troubled me, but my husband reminded me it would just be for long enough to get her healed.  Still at her weight of 75 lbs, she was eating 3-4 cans a day and at $1.50 a can that added up quickly.  Especially on top of the vet bills, medication, and other supplements.  Not to mention Lucky would still be enjoying her homemade dinners which came at a hefty price tag.   We ended up feeding her Iams, because that was the best we could afford, and in my book, it still wasn't good enough.

Even with the change in diet, we still ended up back at the specialist 3 days later when she busted her stitches again.  They stitched her up and sent her home....again, and again, and again.  We soon learned that the radiation we had elected to do over the summer had basically nuked her tissue, and her tissue wasn't happy about it.  After a couple of weeks it became clear that more drastic measures would have to be taken so they elected to do a "minor" (if you call $800 minor) revision surgery where they put a biosist graft over the hole in her mouth and along with re-enforcing some of the weaker areas.  After week,   we started to breathe a little easier and then on the 8th day....sneezing again. She actually managed to get the graft out of her mouth completely, apparently swallowing it.  We went back to the stitch it back up and see method, and again for about two weeks were visiting twice weekly with new holes. Supposedly she was making progress though, so the second revision surgery, with yet another graft, was going to hopefully fix it, yet a few days later, she was minus another graft and sneezing yet again. 

Round and round we went for another four weeks.  It seemed like we'd take two steps forward and then ten back.  She would be doing better, then without fail, the hole would reopen and we'd be back to square one.  The stress during this time was unbelievable.  When she got breakfast and dinner it was like waiting for a pin to drop.  The process itself was incredibly slow.  It took about 20 minutes just to prepare her food into tiny meatballs, and then another 20 to feed her as you had to do it painstakingly slow, praying all the while that she wouldn't sneeze.  But inevitably she did.

All the while I wondered if it was all worth it.  Sometimes when I'd pick her up after getting re-sutured or having one of her 3 "minor" revision surgeries she would cry softly in the back seat and I would break down and cry along with her.  She had to be sedated constantly since she was such a high strung dog and in her recovery her mouth was in such a fragile state.  There was even a 2-3 week period where she had to wear a muzzle because the surgeon felt it might help her heal better. I sometimes felt we were being cruel to put her through all of this, but then another part of me felt like we'd come so far, and overcome so much that we couldn't give up yet.  Despite the multiple procedures she was happy.  She still loved to snuggle and fought us when we took her outside on her least because she wanted to roam free in the yard as she usually did.  She was still high spirited and as sassy as ever, surely that meant something.



Two months after her original surgery we were at the end of our ropes.  We had spent over $6,000 since Colorado, and that wasn't including the thousands we'd spent at CSU and NC State.  Our credit cards were maxed out and our spirits were low.  Despite the fact that approximately 80% of her mouth had healed the last 20% was stubborning holding out. I was beginning to think that we may have to give up and let her go.  I didn't know what else to do.  Our surgeon contacted the surgeons in Colorado asking for their advice.  After a lengthy discussion, they decided that the best option would be to take muscle from the top of her head (the "temple" area as it was explained to us) and pull it down to fill the hole in her mouth. It was going to be another big surgery, we another long recovery period, but basically it seemed like our only shot.  We reluctantly said okay, though we had no idea how we were going to pay the bill at the time.

At this point my spirits were down, and though I still had faith, it had begun to waver.  I pulled out a book that I'd bought but never finished reading and started plowing through the pages hoping to renew all the fight for her I had left in me.  The book, The Secret, is all about how the power of positive thinking can change your life, and how by refusing to let negative thoughts in, you can will the universe to make your dreams come true.

I decided to re-program my mind, and every time that seed of doubt came in, push it out with positive thoughts.  Every time I would start to think, "What if this doesn't work?" I'd replace that thought with, "This WILL work."  I sincerely hoped this new line of thought would help as we continued Abby's road to recovery.

On November 16th, the surgeon at CVS preformed the surgery, which once again, Abby came through beautifully (she's a trooper for sure!).  There was a small problem in that they'd had to cut an optic nerve which rendered her unable to blink in her left eye.  She would require medicene in that eye for the rest of her life to help her produce tears.  However, she'd already been on the medicene because of low-tear production caused by radiation, so even though we were upset, it didn't seem to be a huge deal.  When we picked her up I was again blindsided by how horrible she looked and my faith was shaken for a moment until I reminded myself that I no longer could afford any negative thoughts.

Slowly the days creeped by and everyday I counted them again to make sure they were actually passing.  When she ate or drank we held our breath waiting to see what would happen.  Everyday that she made it without sneezing I would thank God and tell myself that my positive thinking was working.  Over Thanksgiving, I sent my husband off to visit his family (who he rarely sees) and stayed home alone with her and Lucky.  A few times, I started to feel sorry for myself, being all alone on Thanksgiving, but just looking at my sweet pups and reminding myself I had another day with them to be thankful for, shook that self-pity away.


A week passed and even though we wanted to celebrate, we didn't because she'd made it that long before.  After ten days, we started to wonder if this was actually working.  Fourteen days and we started to breath again, just a tiny bit.  When the 3 week mark arrived and we took her back for her checkup the entire office squealed with delight when they heard she'd made it 3 whole weeks.  I wanted to do cartwheels and wondered why I hadn't been thinking positive all along.  Finally after four and a half weeks (four days before Christmas) she went back and got the all clear.  Cone off, stitches out...three long, long months after her original surgery.  And boy was she happy!!  The first time we let her out into the yard all by herself, she stood at the door staring at us, waiting for us to accompany her around the yard dutifully.  When she figured out we weren't she bounced off like a bunny rabbit and started howling at the wind.  Probably just because she could.  Seeing her like that made my eyes well up with tears all over again.  But this time they were truly tears of joy.