Will He Or Won't He...He Won't

I called Dr. Norwood's office around 1:00 PM and asked whether I could make an appointment for Carmella to have her worming shot and check on the Zithromax. It was one of the older black twin receptionists who answered the phone.

"Carmella made it through the weekend!" I reported into the receiver.

"That's great!" came the response on the other end.

I made the appointment and then they connected me to the vet tech who told me the Zithromax had come in. He avoided my question about Dr. Johnson's answer, then transferred me back to the receptionist again. This time if was Felicia, the younger white woman with brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She sounded particularly bouncy today, uncharacteristically so, but I figured that maybe something good had just happened in her life on this particular day.

Later when I arrived at the vet's office omething seemed different. Felicia, the receptionist who had never been very warm before suddenly greeted me with a big smile, and for some reason the whole office seemed to be behaving like a restaurant on the day of their inspection by the Health Department. For a moment I wondered if I was imagining it or if it was real.

A tall, black drug rep dressed in a dark grey suit was making conversation with the receptionists behind the counter about a drug for arthritis. I found myself wondering whether that was the company that manufactured Baytril or some other rival medication. He looked over to where I sat with Carmella resting on my lap and smiled briefly, then turned and went back to his sales pitch to the receptionists.

When I was called back Carmella almost ran to jump on another dog down the hall before turning left into the room. The vet tech pulled the leash in that direction and closed the door behind us.

I said, "Look at how lively she is! She's really come back to life!" His mouth did not move to smile and it seemed almost as though he were willing it not to. Then I knew something was definitely up. I wondered why everybody was not jumping up and down with amazement; only this canned version of happiness. It began to make me question my sanity. Was I the only one seeing how good Carmella looked, or was this indicative of something else?

I felt as though I was scrambling to figure out what to say next. Carmella pulled on the leash some more, scratched at the carpet and promptly peed. I apologized and said that she must be nervous or something. The vet tech, said, "Oh, that's alright, don't worry about it".

Then he made some comment about that even though Carmella looks much better they still had to follow protocol because "it never goes away". I asked him what he meant by that. She'd been in there for several weeks every few days and they'd never mentioned it before. I asked if he meant the protocol she was on for her treatment, and he said, "No, we have to wear special suits so other dogs won't get infected". It looked to me as if he wore the same uniform he always had, basically what amounted to royal blue scrubs. He was not wearing a mask or anything of that nature and the shirt was short-sleeved. It didn't appear as though it were made of special impermiable or waterproof material. I wondered if he were joking, but he didn't seem to be when I looked at his expression. Then I wondered if the office got freaked out about the neuro symptoms which had developed over the weekend. They must not have known that now it could only be transmitted via the tear ducts, so unless a dog licked her eye or her eye touched his outfit which touched another dog's eye or mouth it was pretty unlikely.

"She should be cured once she gets the other part for the neuro symptoms", I responded, to which he said, "I'll have Dr. Norwood come in and talk to you about that." Still he was not jumping up and down with joy and not smiling, so I figured it must be bad news.

Dr. Norwood came in shortly, the vet tech by his side, leaned on the table with his chart and said, "Well Dr. Johnson got back to me today and it's looking almost for sure that he's not gonna do it."

I felt cold air hit my face as though a draft had suddenly come into the tiny closed exam room. Carmella seemed to bounce nervously around like a ping-pong ball picking up on the vibes.

The vet tech didn't leave the room, but instead stood by the door with arms crossed like a sentinel. I looked over and smiled as if to say, OK, I'd humor him on this dramatic scene, but really, all this wasn't necessary. Something was getting really wierd in there. I'd seen human doctors do this every once in awhile when they wanted a wittness because they were afraid they'd get sued. I wondered why Dr. Norwood would even think that I would be considering such a thing. He had done the treatment for the body and as far as I could tell it was a success. Whatever Dr. Johnson did or failed to do had nothing to do with him or the treatment he'd given Carmella. I wondered what the hell that man said to him that had him and the whole staff on edge.

Dr. Norwood went on to say that Dr. Johnson was offended by some of Daveyo's anti-vet comments in his written instructions, and that he was too at first, but that he wasn't now, but that that could have contributed to why Dr. Johnson did not want to treat Carmella although he didn't think it was the primary reason. I said that yes, he could come on kind of strong at times but I think it was because of what happened to his own dogs before they got the treatment they needed, and that he was a researcher; not a vet, and from my experience alot of them are like that. I said you just have to seperate that from the science and take the demeanor with a grain of salt. I told him if I'd let that stop me I would be dead myself, as the man who saved my life wasn't what one would think of as a benevolent person, "in fact to be honest the guy was a stone jerk", but if I wanted to survive I resolved to ignore that and look at the protocol on it's own merits. We can't always choose the messenger, but don't throw the baby out with the bathwater. The important thing here was to help Carmella and if the treatment works it works, and no interpersonal issues could change scientific facts.

"It seemed to be mostly the lack of journal articles about it that's holding him back", he went on. "Also, he said that it's really never done, putting anything into the Central Nervous System. He said the dog would almost surely go into shock. We were running fluids on her when we treated the rest of her body and she didn't even flinch, but putting stuff directly into the spinal canal like that could be much more likely to cause shock." I wondered why that would be unmanageable for someone with his expertise, as he would have at least as many anti-shock precautions at his disposal in an expensive specialty clinic.

"Just look at how much better she is", I said. "Is he going to let her die of neuro symptoms after all this? Just letting her go would be a waste of a perfectly good dog when it's not necessary. There's something he can do, he's got the skills and he's just choosing not to do it. I wondered if he thought a slow, agonizing death from eventual paralysis and/or seizures was better than the slight chance of death on the table. My son was looking into having brain surgery last summer for a benign brain tumor that caused debilitating seizures but they did not refuse to do it because there was some risk involved. They figured the benefit was worth the risk because it was interfereing with his ability to support himself. By the same token, Carmella has really nothing to lose by undergoing this procedure because the only alternative is a sure death, and judging by how she'd come through everything else with flying colors, there is reason to believe she would survive this too and even recover completely. If they'd give a person that chance, why not a dog?

One of the other people in a forum I post in about this treatment was not so lucky. Her dog died the other night in the Phillipines, and it was really because the vets involved refused to follow the instructions. Because her current vet was in a remote area and there were no neuro vets accessible her vet had to attempt the procedure on her own having never done a spinal tap in her life. She pushed the needle too far and hit the chord. Had there been a neuro vet available to offer his services her dog would probably be alive and recovering now.

This reminds me of before abortion was legalized and women had to obtain it on the black market, often not under the best conditions or by qualified practitioners.

Experienced neuro vets really need to start making themselves available so that this doesn't happen to any more dogs.

I went home from Carmella's appointment feeling dazed. None of the other names on the list I called today had panned out, but the only thing I came up with was a possible vet at a place called Loving Touch, and the possibility that Auburn or UT veterinary school might have someone willing and able to do the rest of Carmella's treatment. I'm hoping I don't have to go out of town to find somebody qualified. There must be someone in all of Atlanta.

Tomorrow back to the drawing board.

Carmella's Big Day!

Well the moment of truth has finally arrived. The vet called me this afternoon after I'd brought Carmella over there this morning, and told me he was finally able to find a vet supply company that had Newcastle Disease Vaccine, LaSota Strain. I had no idea that there would be any difficulty finding or buying it, but he encountered alot of barriers along the way. Some companies would only sell it in mass quantities that he could never use up in his own practice, and many other suppliers were actually out of stock.

After much searching he was able to locate one good source and they are going to overnight ship it to him to arrive tomorrow morning. It is arriving none too soon, as the rate of her decline is making this an emergency situation very fast.



Carmella didn't eat very well this morning, leaving half a can of dogfood sitting in her bowl, and still would only drink yogurt juice. Before taking a taxi to the vet's I gave her as much yogurt juice as I could, and took her outside to go to the bathroom. The cab company now charges $5.00 if you don't have your dog in a cage and $1.00 additional if it is caged. I put one of her pillows in there so that she would be comfortable, and she crawled right into it on her own.

Once at the vet's this morning I spoke with a man in the waiting room who was there to have his grey and white Schitzu groomed and we talked for awhile as we waited for the receptionist. He mentioned to me that his wife had once bought a dog from a pet shop that was sick and he insisted she take it back and get her money back although she was attached to it. She finally relented although she really didn't want to, and they did return her money. I told him that the shelter I got Carmella from had you sign a disclaimer, but that even if they hadn't I could never return her as if she was a defective product from a store. I picked her out from a long list of dogs I'd seen both online and at various shelters after several months of being extremely picky. When I found her, that was the dog I wanted, there was no doubt about it, and it would take a thousand armies to tear us apart. I found myself wanting to ask him if he would trade in his wife or his child for a new model the first time they got really sick. His story left me feeling very uneasy, as I knew it was a sign of the times. I looked at Carmella in her carrier and thought "No way would I ever do that to you". She looked back at me and I could tell she knew it too. This dog would follow me to hell and back and I am prepared to return the favor. If that made me a relic, I thought, then so be it. We are all going to be old and get sick one day, and I would hope that when that time comes all of us will have somebody by our side willing to do whatever is necessary, and I am a strong believer that we help create the world we will one day have to live in, so we'd best make it a compassionate one.




After about 15 minutes a nurse came out and called me to bring Carmella into a room. She asked me how she was doing and I filled her in on the sudden hardening of her pads last night and her reduction in apetite this morning. She had been the first one in that office I'd spoken with on the phone before the first visit and remembered my saying that Carmella looked like a Dingo, and she commented on that again, saying how extremely cute she was. I told her I hoped that Dr. Norwood had the serum and was ready to treat her because I was really worried with the developments of the night before that she would suffer neurological damage. Time was ticking away on my beautiful puppy's life, each minute lost, like a leaf of lettuce being peeled away, leaving a bare and vulnerable center which was her life force. The nurse looked at me from behind black-rimmed glasses and I thought I saw a slight tearing of her eyes, fleeting, but nevertheless very real and very human. I knew that she would take extra special care of my best buddy, as she saw in her what I do; that majestic spirit, that awe-inspiring presence like a tamed wild animal which made it impossible to resist her.

The nurse told me that Carmella was the first dog with Distemper they'd ever had in their practice and that she'd heard about it but had never seen if first-hand until now. She told me that some time ago several shelters had been shut down after an outbreak was reported on the news, but they seemed to be different ones than the one Carmella came from. Even so, it just goes to show that this disease clearly has not been eradicated in this country.

I wonder whether dogs are getting it from wild animals displaced by the destruction of the forest. I remember recently reading about a breed not yet recognized by the American Kennel Club called the Carolina Dog which is thought to be related to the Dingo and wonder now if maybe some Dingoes were released or got loose after having been brought over from Australia. If they'd mixed with domestic dogs then there is an off chance that Carmella could actually be mixed with Dingo, although how recently that would have been in the bloodline is a mystery to me. For that matter I guess someone with a taste for exotic pets could have brought one over recently (I hear you can order just about anything over the internet these days if you can get it cleared through customs), a dog like that could have bred with a domesticated dog. If one became a stray and was not current on their vaccines the puppies may not have inherited any immunity from the mother and contracted the disease or got it from the mother (already infected). Who knows? In any case it sounds plausible to me given the current state of our environment. If bears and wolves show up in suburbia why not Dingos or half-breed Dingos? One has to wonder where these diseases re-emerge from after they were assumed to be almost non-existant in the US nowadays.

After returning home I immediately got online and checked to see whether Dr. Sears had received the message and my vet's phone number to call him. but found out later from Dr. Norwood that he had still not called.

Upon speaking with my vet by phone we decided that Carmella should stay for 7 days in which time all the intensive treatment could be completed, she could be observed closely for any adverse effects, and have medical intervention close at hand just in case it should be needed. This made good sense since I don't have a car and there is only one person I know who could take me over there in the evenings after work, but nobody in the morning, as she will need 2 antibiotic shots a day to fully clear up the pneumonia after receiving the Newcastle's Disease Virus Vaccine I.V. and spinal tap procedure injecting the second dose into the Central nervous system to be sure all traces of Distemper virus are eradicated from brain and spinal chord.

The doctor advised me that because the serum he was using was bird-based rather than dog-based there could be some risks associated with that, but admitted he had really no way fast enough to find a donor dog in the time-frame Carmella would need, so we would have to proceed with the pre-made serum. At this point we have nothing to lose because left untreated she would surely die. I had hoped Dr. Sears would have been able to contact Dr. Norwood in time to send him the dog-based stuff, but with Carmella's recent disease-progression that one or two days might be too long to wait.

After our conversation on the phone, Dr. Norwood faxed me copies of Carmella's test results in case Dr. Sears got in contact with the guy working with him (Daveyo) before he called him.

Then I checked back with Daveyo on the two Distemper messageboards and found that he'd gotten back to me with some more instructions and information about what to expect in the days following the treatment, based on Carmella's current condition.

He said that it is very possible that after both initial shots Carmella might start having seizures or become paralyzed. The first 48 hours after the treatment the immune system goes through a storm, killing the Distemper virus. Soon after, a delayed reaction of the damage that was ensuing becomes fully apparent. This could take about 50 days to start resolving. He assured me that if she does suffer the paralysis it was easier to heal than if she had seizures and not to panic. This sounds very similar to what I was told about my own autoimmune disease protocol (the worstening before it gets better due to a Herxheimer reaction; temporary exascerbation of symptoms while the bacteria is flushed through the tissues and out of the body).

In this case we are dealing with a virus rather than bacteria, but I suspect the same thing is happening when shedding the virus as it's killed. It could be that the toxins released on Distemper's way out of the dog result in increased inflammation of the tissues and organs, and that accounts for the increase in symptoms indicative of which areas had been affected before eradication.

Since my vet has not done this before he told me he'd do his best and do everything in his power but that he couldn't guarantee anything.

I cannot say that I'm not worried, but Carmella's silent strength is part of what endeared me to her in the first place and it is that strength that will give her the ability to beat this virus. She knows that I'm not going to give up on her and that she's home and I'm not going anywhere.

If I have to work with her every day for the next year to get her functioning back to normal, I'm prepared to do that, but she may surprise us all and bounce back alot sooner.

There is something about her that doesn't quit, determined to live to see the day that she can jump into my arms (until she's too big), run, and play, and chew on her toys, chase a ball and bring it back, eat voraciously, and enjoy a long drink of water, to breathe in the warm summer air without coughing or congestion, to learn tricks, and go for long walks, basking in the sun, her reddish-brown fur healthy and glistening.