Preparing For A Euthanasia

Part of a recent class was devoted to preparing an exam room for a euthanasia. It's ironic because within 2 days of the class Jim and I made the difficult, but necessary decision to put one of our rabbits down. Cosmo was an elder bun whose right hip had deteriorated to the point where the ball and socket had just....dissolved. Though he was unaffected in the beginning, gradually he became more disabled. In the beginning he could still hop, even if he did lean to one side. He could still jump up on a box. He could hop down the hallway. Then we noticed him hopping less and scooting more. The lean was more pronounced. Eventually he stopped hopping entirely and just scooted when he needed to, taking longer rest stops in between. Then one day it seemed as though he was no longer even scooting. Instead he was pulling himself along by his front paws in a sort of hitching motion. In a short time his front paws took on the appearance of oars splayed out wide, and that pose helped him "paddle". A week later it seemed as though even paddling was becoming too laborious. Instead Cosmo chose to stay in his enclosure rather than explore. He could be found almost always lying on one side, curled in a backwards looking letter "C", no longer wanting to exert himself. He ate lying down. He still got so excited for treats that he would wiggle and make himself move, but we could see how difficult it was. His back end was atrophied and his body started to become twisted. Worse, the fur on the down flank wore away in a matter of days and I was afraid that his delicate skin would start to abrade and bleed and become infected.

Although he was on pain meds they were not ever going to be able to return his former quality of life to him. Cozzie, as we affectionately called him, had been reduced to a bunny grub.

And it was not fair to him to live this way.

So, we made the decision to euthanize him. According to my teachers, as hard as euthanasia is on an owner, it's also very hard on the staff of a veterinary practice, especially if they have come to know the pet well. Emotion aside there are certain protocols to be followed by the veterinary assistant(the parents and the pet go into an exam room right away, there is a soft blanket for the pet to lie on, a box of kleenex for the parents, a way for them to leave afterwards without going through a waiting area filled with people and their...alive pets. Things to ease the weight and sadness.) On the practical side there is paperwork authorizing the euthanasia and decisions about the body.

As teary as I was in the room with Cosmo in his last moments, I still found myself making a mental note of what my vet was doing, checking off items that I had   recently been taught. The next day in class I think I did OK on that part of our quiz though sadly not just from what I learned studying.

RIP Cosmo Bunny. You were the BEST toy-tosser we ever had and we loved you dearly.

The Chemo Chronicle

Sorry for the delay. I must have been abducted by aliens.
So, where was I? Oh, chemotherapy. THIS is something.

Our recent safety protocol lessons (Remember I'm trying to reform myself with the needles? And did you see that gross arm exposed to radiation?) also included the clothing required while performing certain tasks like taking an X-ray or giving a dog a medicated bath. There are special gloves, gowns, masks, etc. for a variety of tasks, the overall goal obviously being protection from something you don't want.

Fast forward. There are some pets who come into the hospital once a week for chemotherapy treatment. (I think they are all or mostly dogs, but I'm not sure.) The chemo chemicals are delivered via IV catheter in a vein.  It sounds relatively benign until you learn that the assistant who sits with the pet that is receiving treatment (to help keep it calm) is suited up like an extra in the movie "Outbreak".
 
You need:

• a chemotherapy gown (which is impermeable)
• chemotherapy gloves (thick)
• a mask (just in case)
• goggles (just in case)

and have on hand absorbent pads for all of the chemo agents, the IV catheter, etc.

This is just to SIT with the patient.

After use EVERYTHING goes into special yellow chemotherapy buckets except for the goggles (which are cleaned with alcohol). Chemotherapy waste is biohazard waste.

Patients also have 2 chemo bags; 1 for garbage, 1 for dirty towels.
Uneaten food= chemo waste. If the pet messes on the blanket it's laying on= chemo waste. Any discharge from the pet= chemo waste. All of this is segregated from everything else at the hospital and picked up by a biohazard company. Why?

Because the chemotherapy agents cause cancer if you are exposed. 

So, knock me over with a feather.

Vacation Week

We had vacation from class this past week. It turned out to be a blessing because my little Escape had to spend a good part of the week in the shop, but she is back home now and good as new.  Ready to bring me back to class on Tuesday.

The pets got lots of quality time. :)

Here is Keena today:

Doesn't she look thrilled to be an honorary bunny for the holiday?

Tomorrow it's back to hitting the books. Even without school work (and a car) the time filled itself with a ton of things to do.

Oh, I almost forgot! I want to share what I learned about chemotherapy. But darn it, I'm getting sleepy. It will have to wait until the next post.

Thanks, dear reader, for coming this far. There's a lot of interesting stuff ahead. I promise. (Good night!)

Needle Safety

OK, here's where I need retraining. For YEARS I have been doing sub-cutaneous fluids on our kidney failure pets. (These are fluids that are injected by needle under the skin, to be absorbed by the body in addition to what the pet may be taking in by mouth.) I'm talking thousands of times I've done this, and lo, and behold I have just learned that I am not recapping my needle properly at the end.

Safety protocol dictates that you do NOT recap your needle using your other hand. Rather it's a one-handed sort of scoop of the needle into the cap which you then press against something to secure it.

I'm ashamed to admit I have used both hands (one to hold the needle, the other to hold the cap and then voila! the two are joined). The danger? That you miss the cap and skewer the pad of your finger. And have I ever done this? Of course. The caps are an opaque color and you think you're headed into it and then YEEEEEOW! Your finger's on fire and spouting blood like it's been actually cut off. Really it is amazing to me that the pets don't bleed like this when they are stuck. Maybe I'll learn why.

The good news is that I have only stuck myself with lactated Ringers needles and not with something that should absolutely not be poked into my body. The stakes are raised now.

I must reform. And throw away the Bandaids in favor of better prevention.