Well, it's time to update on Jake's condition again.  After the last post, I thought Jake was going to be fine.  He had perked up and was doing quite well.  Then it started again.  He quit greeting us at the door, quit wanting to play at night.  I knew where this was headed.  I called Wonderful Vet and took him in again.  WV had said all along that he believed it was either a toxic reaction, or if it continued, he might have an autoimmune disease.  I kept praying for toxic reaction because that was something he would get over.  An autoimmune disease meant more of a long term treatment and I just didn't want either of us to have to go through that.  WV did some blood work and I talked to him the next day.  He thought that since his symptoms came back and he was severely anemic (he was thisclose to needing a blood transfusion) it was probably an autoimmune disease after all.  He couldn't be sure without more extensive blood work and that meant going to a specialist.

I worked in the medical field for many years.  I worked at a couple of really big hospitals.  I used to feel in my element there and nothing phased me.  But walking into a veterinary specialist hospital kind of freaked me out. I made the appointment and had to print out some forms and fill them out before I showed up with Jake.  When we walked in, I wasn't sure what to expect but I thought there might be some cute cartoon pictures of dogs and cats like Scooby Doo and Garfield. Little bowls of milk bones, a few chew toys.  In hindsight, I guess I was was confusing a vet hospital waiting room with a pediatrician's waiting room. There were sign-in desks for internal medicine, cardiology, oncology, dermatology, etc.  The waiting room had chairs and coffee tables just like you would see at a people hospital but next to the "Time" magazines were copies of "Dog World".  They even had a coffee pot and below that was a little cupboard with bottled water.  I got a bottle of water while I was waiting.  Then I saw someone get a bottle of water and pour it in a little dish for their dog.  Oh, was this just for the pets?  Had I just committed a doggie hospital faux pax?  I drank the water quickly so no one would see me drinking it (I wouldn't want to be judged by other dog owners)  and decided to stick to coffee if we had to go back there.  (I was being optimistic that we would just be there the one time....not true)

After awhile they called us back to an exam room and Internal Medicine Doc came in and examined him.  He asked some questions and left. He mentioned everything from autoimmune disease to liver cancer.  It was all so clinical.  About this time, I was really missing our WV and his staff.  Internal Medicine Doc's assistant (I guess that's what she was, I'm not really sure since we were never introduced....a pet peeve of mine.  No pun intended) came back with a grocery list of what the doctor thought would be necessary to properly diagnose my Jake.  Cue the tears.  I was sure my Jake was going to die and it would be a slow and painful death.  The poor vet tech looked terribly uncomfortable as I simultaneously tried to pet Jake, get my thoughts together, apologize, and not get snot all over my shirt.  We started with the least invasive procedures first:  blood work and urine sample.  I won't go into details about how they get a urine sample from a dog but it does not involve sending him to a room and asking him to pee in a cup.  They brought Jake back to me and all he wanted to do was get out of that place.   Side story......when Abigail was 3 or 4 years old, she had to get some immunizations.  That was the checkup where they do a ridiculous number of shots at one time.....I believe she had 5 shots.  (I would never allow that now)  Anyway, when we were leaving the building and walking in the parking lot, Abigail stopped, turned to the building and yelled at the top of her lungs, "I HATE THAT PLACE AND I'M NEVER GOING THERE AGAIN!"  I had to apologize to 2 moms who happened to be in the parking lot dragging their now thoroughly scared kids in.  Anyway, I have a feeling that's pretty much how Jake felt at the time.  In fact, when we left the building, Jake walked about 5 steps from the front door, stopped and peed.  Right there on the sidewalk, right there at the entrance.  It was a big enough puddle that the next people walking in our out were going to have to take a big step over.  He didn't even try to go to the shrubs that were about 2 feet to the side of the door.  Nope.  That was Jake yelling, "I hate that place!" 

After an agonizing wait, I got a call from the hospital and they said Jake did, indeed have an autoimmune disease.  They put him on a large dose of prednisone and antibiotics for 2 weeks to start.  It turned out, it was going to be a longer treatment than that, but I'll get to that in the next blog.....