I had been looking forward to this vet visit the same way one might look forward to a doctor’s visit knowing there stood a real chance that something was perilously abnormal. This wasn’t an emergency though it sure did feel like one. How I managed to wait out the 64 hours ahead of the appointment is anybody’s guess.
Nothing had changed with Quinn’s condition over the weekend. A weekend that had me absolutely paralyzed with fear and sadness. I spent a good portion of this awful weekend on the internet trying to put my own spin on what was going on with my animal. To me, something very sudden and very serious happened to Quinn’s eyes, yet it wasn’t as though they had been scratched by a cat or poked by a stick.
It didn’t appear as though she were in pain although it’s always hard to tell with dogs. She really didn’t even seem any more uncomfortable, but again I couldn’t be sure. One thing was for sure, and this was the part that had me so baffled, her vision was now clearly compromised. Man it was hard to digest. I mean prior to Friday afternoon, I hadn’t noticed one thing wrong with her eyes, or her eyesight for that matter. This was not going to end well and I knew it.
I parked my van in the parking lot. I probably arrived an hour early or so. I was so nervous to hear what I thought I was going to hear that arriving early and feeling sorry for myself seemed like my only option. It was 2pm on a cold and drizzly Central California afternoon.
When it became time, I got out of the van, walked around the back, opened the side door, and like she had done 5,000x prior, out jumped Quinn. I made a collar and leash out of a piece of rope, and we made our way to the Veterinary Hospital. This was our first time using this particular veterinarian.
18 months ago, Quinn and I piggybacked a mobile vet visit that was taking place at a client’s home in Felton CA where we happened to be working at the time. At that particular time, Quinn was still relatively new to me and hadn’t yet been checked out by a veterinarian under my tutelage. The clients were happy to set it up for me, and the mobile vet was happy to oblige.
As far as I was concerned, Quinn was in perfect health. In fact, I barely even paid attention as the checkup was underway I suppose I was wanting a current opinion regarding the knot on her right back leg, but outside of that I was really just doing what a responsible dog owner should do. She received a few vaccine shots, and that was that.
The mobile vet thought the bump was fine, recommending that I keep a close eye on it to make sure it remained the same size. He thought Quinn was a little heavy, which to me, based on our level of exercise and activity, was neither here nor there. All in all he thought Quinn was a great little dog and nothing out of the ordinary caught his attention.
This however was an entirely different kind of vet visit altogether, and I was numbed by it. I filled out the paperwork and the nice lady at the front asked if I would get Quinn to stand on the scale. 44.7 pounds and fit as a fiddle. I sat there miserable for about 10 minutes until it was our turn to go into the small room. We then sat in the small room for another 5 minutes before the doctor finally entered the room.
When she opened the door, Quinn naturally turned to look in that direction. I didn’t have to say one single word before the vet commented on what appeared to her to be my dog’s inability to see. I mean just right out the gate she made a very real observation with the utmost conviction, and she was spot on. I forget what she said, or how she even said it.
She began telling me what she thought might be going on with Quinn’s eyes, but that there wasn’t anything further that their office was able to offer, and that the next step would be to see a specialist. Very quickly this became way too much to handle. I started feeling faint. I told the doctor that I was running extremely low on fuel, extremely high on emotion, and that if she could please go get me a glass of water, that it would be greatly appreciated. She left the room.
I was a complete wreck. Really truly. My entire life was actually flashing in front of me as if I were beginning to die. That was how much of an impact this particular moment in time was having on me. Without the slightest fever, I was sweating bullets on a cold and rainy day.
She came back with a tall glass of water. She saw that I was on the floor with Quinn sobbing my heart out. She suggested I put my head between my legs and breathe deep. My desire to carry on had reached a near breaking point. I was on the verge of total collapse. It was November 11, 2017. The last thing I remember hearing the vet say was, “I’m really sorry.”