FML Readers...
 
A week or so ago I wrote a letter to my pet ferret Sprinkles ("A Letter
to Sprinkles" in the 2/11-2/12 digest).  It was a very poignant letter,
written while I was deeply upset over the condition of my beloved ferret
who was in the hospital and believed by all, including the doctors, to be
on her way to the Rainbow Bridge.
 
I wrote it (and this follow-up) anonymously because I was, and still am,
ashamed of my cavalier attitude towards my ferret.  I took her for granted
and only realized how much I loved her when I was facing the prospect of
losing her.  It took me awhile to finish that letter as I had broken down
in tears several times while writing it, and to my friends I'm not known as
someone who becomes overly emotional.
 
Someone I know who reads FML quickly identified me as the writer of the
message and expressed her concern.  She also asked me to write this
follow-up as apparently there has been some concern among some of her
friends (also FML readers) over exactly what happened and what the current
situation is.  They wanted to know what happened next.  I also thought it
would be a good idea to write it down so if someone else finds themselves
in a similar position, they'll know better than I did.
 
And maybe I can help save the life of a ferret in the process.
 
So, here it is.
 
On the afternoon of Friday, February 11, I brought my three ferrets to the
vet for various checkups and shots.  Sprinkles, my "middle child", had a
severe allergic reaction to the distemper shot.  Within seconds of
receiving the shot she started vomiting and started turning very red.  A
few moments later she lost bowel and bladder control, visibly started to
swell up and turned VERY read (her skin was literally as red as a tomato
and was easily seen through her white fur).  The vet immediately took
Sprinkles to the emergency room.  In the <30 seconds it took to get her
there she had gone into shock and started passing blood through her anus.
A couple of minutes later the blood flow was severe; her heart rate had
more than doubled, her blood pressure had dropped to half of what it should
be, and she was unconscious.  She was given injections of Benadryl and
steroids, a jugular catheter was inserted, and she was put into an oxygen
tent.
 
The doctor gave Sprinkles around-the-clock attention but told me that her
outlook was "poor".  I pressed for a more specific outlook and was
reluctantly told that, at best, she would have a 15% chance of survival.  I
left the vet's office in shock.
 
The following morning I called the doctor's office (terrified) and learned
that Sprinkles was still alive -- unconscious, but alive.  She received
antibiotics and other drugs as well as a blood transfusion from another
ferret, but she was still hanging in there.  The doctor told me that as a
result of the reaction, the entire lining of her digestive tract from her
stomach to her bowels had sloughed off.  This is where all the blood loss
was coming from.  This also had the dangerous effect of leaving her
extremely vulnerable to infection.  I was told to call back in the
afternoon for an additional update, but if anything had happened before
then they would call me.  I was a little encouraged to learn that they had
upgraded her from "poor" to "critical" status -- a fine line, but the
consensus is that since she survived the night she'll have a better chance
of survival overall.  Her heart rate had stabilized and her blood pressure
was returning to normal, and she was looking more like a ferret and less
like a hairy summer tomato.
 
That evening (Saturday) I learned that she was conscious but still groggy
and disoriented, and was still passing blood.  They gave her a second
transfusion and had her on an IV drip to keep her blood pressure normalized
and to provide nutrition.  She wasn't out of the woods yet but she was
definitely improving.  I was told to call back Sunday morning.
 
On Sunday morning I learned that she was actively trying to move around
(crawl under a blanket, etc) and, if I wanted to, I could come visit her.
I came that afternoon.  She was presented to me in a medical tray lined
with a cotton mat.  She still had the jugular catheter in, secured with a
bright pink collar/bandage around her neck.  She was still groggy; she
looked like she hadn't slept in days.
 
I was very afraid that she would try to run away from me, or at the very
least would show some disdain for me.  So far as I was concerned I had
caused her this misery.  I would certainly be resentful if the positions
were reversed.  I gently picked her up from the tray, leaned back in the
chair and laid her on my chest.  She looked up at me, gave a BIG sigh,
stretched forward and planted one tiny, warm, and oh-so-perfect kiss on the
tip of my nose.  She then turned on her side and fell asleep.  It was a
moment I will never forget.  We stayed that way for about 20 minutes,
then the vet returned to put her back in the recovery room.
 
The following morning at about ten o'clock I got a phone call from the vet
at work.  Apparently after I left Sprinkles had slept almost continuously,
without sedation, until nine o'clock that morning -- almost 17 continuous
hours.  They pronounced her MUCH improved -- enough so, in fact, that I
could take her home.  I picked her up that evening; she rode in the sleeve
of my down coat all the way home, safe and warm.  Two bottles of
antibiotics came with me, a two week supply.
 
That was this past Monday.  It's now Friday night and Sprinkles is still
with me.  She still sleeps a lot, she's missing a lot of fur (shaved from
the emergency room treatment), she has a scar on her neck from the
catheter, and she sneezes a lot (small respiratory problem), but she's
alive, and she's home.  It was snowing today -- Sprinkles loves the snow
but I don't want to risk taking her outside, so I held her next to the
storm window so she could see the snow falling.  The other ferrets have
been keeping her company while she recovers.  For awhile she wanted to be
left alone but now she's starting to tolerate a little more company.
 
But she's a fighter, and now she's a survivor too.
 
Humans: PLEASE don't make the same mistake that I did.  Get ALL of the
lowdown, know ALL of the risks before you bring your ferret to the vet,
even if it's a "routine procedure".  I cannot describe the angst I felt
over this experience and I beg all of you to not put yourself in a position
where you'd feel as I did.  Show your ferrets that you love them by your
actions.  Take a little extra time every day to play with them, to hold
them, to show them you care.  Before you leave for work in the morning take
a moment to hold and pet your fuzzies.  When you come home, spend a little
more time with them.  A few minutes with your ferrets is a lot more
important to both of you than knowing who was killing who on the evening
news.  Getting another drink from the refrigerator can wait a couple of
minutes while you throw that towel over your ferret and play.  And after
all, the dishes in the sink can wait, right?
 
Sprinkles is not fully recovered yet, but she's expected to be.  If you
don't hear from me again you can safely assume that Sprinkles is back to
normal.
 
And by the way... We're going to the park on the first warm day this year.
Don't wait for us; we'll be gone awhile.  We have lots to catch up on.
 
Take care.
[Posted in FML issue 2964]