frantic pain


I would give anything… if only I could…

Lucy has been unwell. Two months already. The trouble hasn’t stopped since we moved home. And yes, that accident… The schism that eternally severed the rhythmic flow of unfolding, cutting away from that split second on the former ecology of Being. Weeks of nightmares, twitching and crying in her sleep, ensued. The pain, sadly, did not end with the physical healing of the amputation.

Multiple vet visits for one thing after another. Vomiting. Diarrhoea. Lethargy. Weight loss with excessive hunger. Blood tests. Body checks. The works. Nothing conclusive. I don’t know what else to do anymore. All I know is that she is in pain. Still.

And it breaks my heart.

She is my nonverbal child, a parallel embodied entity, whose life interweaves with mine. Her sentience has propelled me into dimensions of knowing, weaving rich tapestries of narratives that I would never have entered on my own. Yet, I am unable to help her resolve her pain.

Today… frantic discomfort. A reaction no doubt from the latest medication – a painkiller – what twisted irony, wasn’t it meant to relieve her of her pain? But that is what happens. I know all too well, after a lifelong tumultuous relationship with pharma myself.

Pacing. Panting. I run outside with her. Rain pelting down – and Lucy hates the rain – we were soaked to the skin, she and I, but there was a more desperate mission at hand. Round and round, back and forth, up and down we walked and walked and walked. She stopped to sniff, then went on. Stoop, strain, stoop, strain – nothing. Repeat all over again. Thunder. Lightning. Run, pant, run, run, run! Stop, stoop, strain again… Little slivers of excreta… Her whole body taught… I massage her even as she is in position… It seems to calm her a little. What else can I do?

We return home. But she is restless, inconsolable… and a few minutes later, we are running downstairs again. Rain… wet… we are splashing across huge puddles… Stoop, strain, stoop, strain… run, run, run… more slivers, more massaging… Two bizarre creatures in the pouring rain, no umbrella, no time for her raincoat even…

She is at last in bed. I massaged her and she fell asleep. But only for awhile. Yet another nightmare. Whimpering. Shaking. So much of this lately. Ever since… that day…

But my brave child of another species, unlike the human one, she does not throw her hands up in despair, she does not give up… she just keeps going… and so, too, must I.

6 thoughts on “frantic pain

  1. I felt the anguish and the pain of this situation. I know how nightmares can destroy ones life and this was because of something done by a careless, thoughtless human.

    Though I pressed like what I meant was I liked that you wrote so that I could feel and see.

  2. Such a torment for poor Lucy, and for you too. I can understand the helpless frustration and anguish when try as you might you are unable to ease her pain. Much love to you both, and wishes for a full and speedy recovery. xoxo

  3. So sorry to hear that. I wonder if she could have eaten something toxic like poison bait, a plant or a food item (plenty of food items that are harmless to humans but toxic to dogs), but probably the vet has already considered that. Lethargy, vomiting, diarrhoea et.c sounds like poisoning

    • Thanks, Anna. Further to this post, she deteriorated, and I took her to the emergency vet at 3am. She was hospitalized, put on the drip and medicated, bloods taken too. Then I transferred her to her regular vet, and we spent the entire day at the clinic. Not poisoning, which is a relief. But still investigating underlying causes.

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