White Dog and the rest of the WDA rushed to my side when the phone rang bright and early this morning. They knew that it was Dr. Julia's office calling about Quinn...and they were right. Cindy, Dr. Julia's Number One, had the ER reports and test results and had already spoken with her boss. HOWEVER, Dr. Julia was home with a fever and was most likely not going to be in. Cindy was driving the ER information plus Quinn's file over to the vet's house so she could at least read through everything and call Dr. Russman, the ER Vet. She would attempt to come in the late afternoon and if so, the Clinic would call and have us bring The Other White Dog over...if not "come hell or high water" Dr. Julia would see Quinn on Tuesday.
"AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!" I yelled, hanging up the phone. The uncertainty and the waiting has been torture. Fortunately, Quinn has had no further seizures but everyone in the house jumps at his slightest movement...the poor Mighty Boy must be tired of being stared at as though he was a specimen and sniffed to make sure he was not in jeapordy health-wise.
The Army has developed its own system of taking care of TOWD. This morning Quinn wanted to go outside but the sleeping YoYoMa was still too close to the door. Quinn came halfway into the room and froze. Steve was in the shower and I was in the middle of giving Puff a therapeutic massage for her lungs. Nuka sailed up next to Quinn, briefly touched him on the nose and then walked along his side forming a barrier between him and the other boy. Then she followed him outside to wait for his return.
Every time Quinn has gone outside today, White Dog has casually found a reason to hop on the bed where she could lie and watch the entire yard through the patio doors. While Quinn napped, Puff napped too, but in a position where she blocked his access and he had to awaken her in order to move about...everyone was alerted. YoYoMa has given his brother wide berth as a conscious effort to reduce Quinn's stress level.
I have spent the day as a paranoid nut thinking every time TOWD circled to lie down or repeated his walking path as he went about normal life, that he was starting manic behavior. Someday I will be able to laugh at what an incredible nervous momma I am, but today, it wasn't humorous. Research on the Internet provided a wealth of information and helped me form a list of questions and concerns to discuss tomorrow.
Tuesday's meeting with Dr. Julia will not provide a solution, I know, and will probably raise even more issues, but somehow having HER see Quinn and examine him will make me hopeful...she has guided those of the White Dog Army and their predecessor through myriad of problems.
So for now, we continue the waiting...and breath holding...and believing all will be all right.





