On Guard

On Guard

    The word of course comes from the French world of fencing, en garde being the equivalent of "be ready" or "prepare to defend yourself."  And as mentioned earlier, my wife and I have indeed been "en garde," watching our dog 24/7.  I sleep by her side downstairs in the living room, our fear being that she might again scrape her knee if she makes the trek down the stairs from our bedroom (she is strong enough now to easily climb up the stairs, but going down is a bit wobbly).  She wants to walk, to go out and do her usual routine, but the vet still says no, and understandably so.  For despite vast improvement, she is still carrying an open wound; and as gross as it might sound, the wound itself is a marvel to behold.  Imagine yourself with a wound like this, a small explosion or something suddenly tearing off a lemon-sized portion of your skin and pretty much burning much of the area around it.  The surrounding skin is dead, but still clinging on.  It hurts likes the dickens, and just looking at it, you can see no alternative other than a skin graph or possibly amputation.  But your doc says to wait, to just be patient and to try to stop the infection from spreading, to leave the dead skin on as a protective layer and no, no bandages...the area is too large and needs to heal.  One must wait.  Of course, you are skeptical. DO something you yell, and by that you mean something more than pills.  No, the doc says, stay resting, very little movement...just wait.  Oh and by the way, put on these disabling plastic mittens so that you cannot touch or scratch the wound...you'll be wearing them for the next few weeks, possibly the next few months.  By the way, you wonder why the doctor does not speak your language and is not from your country, in fact, you can only trust the nodding heads of those around you, ones you love, ones who seem to agree with this doctor; and then off you go, stripped and shaved and in pain and pretty much now a captive.  Make a move toward the wound, even to peek, and you're chastised.  So you sort of give up...but then after a few days go by a funny thing begins to happen.  After all the humiliating and painful cleanings and all the frustrations of trying to understand what's going on, you begin to feel better.  The wound doesn't seem to smell as bad, or hurt as bad, or look as bad (okay, it's still bad but not as bad).

    So this was us, the guards, guiding our dog out to the bathroom, taking off her plastic cone but always having her leash in our hand.  My wife would leave for a few hours then come home and then I would leave.  One would cook or do the wash or go up to the computer to pay bills or step outside; but one would always remain with the dog.  But just as in the movies, when the seemingly comatose person begins to move, we saw the change.  Our dog walked around with a new strength, her brightness returned, she plopped down to rest on the wounded side (yes, that meant lots more washing).  The drainage began slowing (and now has pretty much stopped).  Her wound now looks like a raw piece of steak and as the skin breaks open and falls away, is looking to be about that same size.  It looks both terrible and terrific.  To describe it in a word...incredible.  From this point, we go back to the vet to discuss the next step, the decision to leave the wound open and stitch back what skin there is, or look at a skin graph, or perhaps again do nothing.  An animal in the wild, healing with little more than our watchful eyes (and a series of antibiotics).  Some would call this a miracle, an everyday miracle, a part of life.  And indeed to watch such a large open wound heal, it does seem miraculous.  My wife and I can only sit back in wonder.

    But here's another part of the story.  We've actually been enjoying it a bit.  Despite our vacation falling by the wayside, this time being forced to remain  at the side of our dog has proved to be a vacation of sorts for us because what can you do while you wait and the dog sleeps?  Television?  Yes, there's a bit of that but as many of us know, that grows old quickly (the age old question of there being so much to choose from and so little worth watching ).  So we read, and we talk, and we sit outside, and we make phone calls.  And underneath it all, the rest of our animals are happy to have us home, knowing (we hope) that they would receive the same amount of attention if they were sick.  It's rare for us, this slowing down or stopping of routines, this reduction in time spent exercising or time spent mindlessly on the computer.  It's doing what we would likely be doing on a beach or on a veranda at a guest house...slowing down.  Okay, so maybe we'd be having a bit more of a romantic time but honestly, this hasn't been bad.  We've gotten the chance to watch nature do what she does, to keep life going.  We've gotten a chance to be home, really BE home, to forget about mowing lawns and such, but to be in the home enjoying.  It seems that we had forgotten, passing by the same rooms everyday, the same pictures and furniture and dishes and plants, and now we were stopping to look around, not because we have to but because we were taking the time.  We are again recognizing just how fortunate we are, first that we can indeed take this time, and second that we are looking at this from a healthy stance (that is, we aren't the one injured).  So in many ways, it's been a vacation after all, and a good one.  Now if only we could get our other dog to quit chasing (and being sprayed) by skunks...a topic which will be the subject of the next post.


--On a side note...how's the size of the type?  Did you know that by just hitting the "CTRL" or control button on your computer and simulatneously hitting the "+" or "-" button you can increase or decrease the size of the wording?  Simple fix for anything, making it easier to read if need be, especially those tiny insurance documents...