Juno's ER Visit

Diego called me frantic last night, he found Juno in a pool of vomit. "Mommy he is really sick, this is really really bad!" All I could muster was "I'll be right there." Within three minutes I was home. What I found was difficult, there were puddles all over the floor. Thinking back I don't remember dealing with this and a dog (kids yes). I bathed Juno and wrapped him up in a blanket, holding him as he shook and shivered. I tried to soothe him, not doing a very good job. I was nervous. In one hand was the dog and in the other the laptop, I was looking up all kinds of at home remedies for dogs. Not sure of anything, especially what he may have eaten. (learning from online research that dogs can get gastrointestinal problems, far too many for me to understand)


I picked up the phone and called my mom, she has a dog. She met my question with silence, then after a moment said maybe Imodium (for a dog?) that was all she could suggest, asking me what he ate, if anything was missing or chewed on. "If he went out side and ate a frog, he's done. That's bad." I hung up, back at square one.

I placed Juno on a towel and cleaned up the messy spots. Clorox in one hand, towels in the other. He slept little and kept coughing and getting sick over and over again. The hubs walked through the door at 11:45 pm totally clueless, time flew and I didn't call him like I normally would on his drive home, he thought I fell asleep and didn't call either (this is a typical exercise for us, we never get it right, when I sleep he calls) After pacing and googling we find a 24 hr animal ER hospital. I get Juno's papers and the hubs gets the leash, well attempts to. He goes to the box with all of Juno's things and can't find it, there is no where it could be. I knew this and in his quest reminded him that the last time I saw it was when they went to the park, about two months ago.


And here begins the rant : The kids don't take care of anything, this is unbelievable, how could they lose it, Diego is buying another leash, wah wah wah wah wah wah(the charlie brown teacher has taken over his vocal cords) I don't hear anything else. McGruber has brilliantly come out of the closet with the handle from the camera bag. We leash up Juno, line up the backseat with garbage bags and rush to the ER, walking into the doors at 11:58pm. Almost midnight.


For two hours we waited, we talked, we wondered, and cried. (ok so only I chose to cry but that's because Diego was fast asleep and the hubs was busy playing "bubble it" on his cellular device, I left mine at home, go me!)


The assistant walked in and went over the different options after his evaluation. They wanted to admit him, that is all I heard, I don't remember anything past that. My father would go into convulsions if he heard what they wanted to charge us for admitting him. ($1200.00 actual price a little less, oh and no payment plan, at this point Juno was a goner) She stepped out and we went over the list. I obviously thought he had a blockage in his insides, especially with the coughing and choking sounds. On the other hand, since we got him into the car, there were no signs of illness, he was doing fine. We opt to take him home with no x-rays ($200) we go over what to do and not to do and from under the plastic waiting room chairs, we hear the rumbling of Juno's stomach, the waves of nausea taking over him and the look in his eyes. The doctor pointed out the dehydration and that he probably won't drink when he gets home because of this. She offered to get an x-ray to make sure that there is no plastic legos or hot wheels in there(or clothing), they will be able to see air pockets and areas in him and can tell if there is something stuck. We ok the x-rays, they take Juno. They walk in 5 minutes later asking for permission to give him a shot for nausea, he was getting very sick on the table and they needed us to give authorization. We do, she leaves, the realization and possibility that I might not see him kicks in again, jumping and playing and fighting with me when I do laundry, all the memories when he was a royal pain in my ass came back and I was sad to think of possibly putting him to sleep. If they did have to perform surgery, we would have no other option, there was no way to pay for the operation. Tears stream as we waited for 15 minutes. The assistant came back with the camera bag leash and Juno at the end, poor guy was miserable, his tail said so, it was just lagging along with him. She handed over the leash and said that there was nothing evident in the x-rays to suggest he has an obstruction. She said that he may just be sick and usually with the shot they gave him he would be ok within 24-48 hours. They also injected him with liquids to help with the dehydration. I was ecstatic.

The assistant stepped away to get the vet and we pet Juno, on his back were two cold lumps of liquid, like two blisters under his coat, I have never felt anything like that, and couldn't help myself from petting the same area over and over, wowed to no end.

The assistant came back, "Could we email the papers to you, one of the patients went into cardiac arrest and the doctor is performing CPR right now, she won't be able to go over it with you, unless you would like to wait?" Fantastic, its 3 am and I am ready to leave, still stuck on the patient that went into cardiac arrest and CPR, this was surreal to me. Really, IV's for animals, CPR? I need to get out more.


I got home smelling like dirty laundry and scrubbed before bed at almost 4 am. Juno in his crate and my husband eating my dinner and his dinner. I slept thinking of Juno, a new found respect for dog owners.

Today I get home and begin to cook some rice for him, my mother in law looks over, I tell her what I am doing and she said she just doesn't understand. In Korea dogs eat rats, get sick and you give them a raw egg, that is the remedy. We don't know what we are doing. I disagree and feed him the rice, he isn't eating a grain of it. I go off to put away laundry and come back to Juno devouring a plate of rice with raw eggs, gagging at the site, I look at my mother in law who goes into a lecture of what to do with sick dogs. She is so happy he is eating her concoction, smiling away knowing that she was right. I am just happy he is eating.

This will be the last dog I ever have, I can not begin to describe the things that he has destroyed, mauled and knocked over. The kids love to blame him on things too, and as for Diego he comes around once an hour with the dropper to give him 10 ccs of pedialyte. Diego suggests we make soup for the dog and himself. This was a good idea, except the dog didn't eat the soup and the soup ended up on the floor while we chased around Juno to get 10 drops of water down his throat. Mike D looked like he was in a Japanese steak house sauteing stir fry, hands in the noodles and the fork dancing and clanking away on the floor, missing only the ridiculous hat. So Mike D had soup today, one accomplishment, Juno has yet to get sick, another accomplishment, I missed my husbands call to deal with all this madness, that is definitely a win. Why (even though I often do) would I stop handling the chaos to pick up the phone and hear him ask me "What are you doing?" and fighting the uncomfortable silence. "I am doing laundry, cleaning up Mike D's food art from the floor, keeping Diego's popcorn from killing Juno, keeping the raw egg and rice left over away from Mike D and his kitchen creation, and hoping that by Monday I will have found time to shave, even if it's just below the knee!" I didn't say that, but he knows, do I really have to remind him that I am not sitting on the sofa airing my tata. So maybe it was a good thing I missed the call.