Twelve Hours After a +10 Day - A Double Whammy

This has been the longest week I've had in a long time.  Glad I got to enjoy my +10 Day with Champ because twelve hours later I was standing in his stall, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the vet.

Wednesdays are Katy, my half-leaser's day to ride.  I'd only stopped by the barn to pick up Poco's paperwork.  I wasn't dressed for barn time, in my white t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes. 

Since I was there, thought I'd stop in and say Hi to Katy.  My phone started ringing as I walked into the barn to find my trainer, Rachel, calling me, Katy and Champ next to her.  Nothing has been normal since that moment.

Champ had urine dripping all over the place.  He also had shavings all over him and was groaning in pain.  The vet was on his way so we did what we could and waited.

The vet arrived and within minutes Rachel and I were pushing 16 bags of IV fluids into Champ.  After a urine culture and rectal exam, the vet turned to us and told us that Champ had the "Mother of all impactions", the largest he'd ever seen.  Bad news. 

Next came the terrible question.  Did I want to try to transport him to surgery, approximately 80 miles away?  Every horse owner draws their own line in the sand on where you decide to call it quits.  For colic I draw the line prior to surgery.  During the exam I was asked about surgery twice.  With tears in my eyes and in a chocking voice, I declined both times.

The vet directed us to walk Champ twenty minutes on the hour.  He'd check in with us later that night via phone.  I knew we were in for a long haul at the barn.  I called my husband requesting a jacket, chairs and food.  I called our daughter and told her what was happening.

Fellow boarders came to assist and offer their support.  When additional bags of fluid were called for many gave their hand in holding the IV or pumping fluids through the hand bulb that passed the fluid into Champ, while Rachel or I needed to step away for a moment.  It meant a lot to me to have their help and I can't say enough about the great people at our barn.

I've read many articles about Colic, especially after losing Cisco to Colic in January.  But there is no replacement for hands-on experience.  This is a tough, exhausting process but the best way to learn how to help your horse is to participate in it.

For instance I'd never helped put a catheter in a horse's neck, run an IV or swapped out IV bags when they ran empty.  At first it's unnerving.  Colic is not only exhausting for the horse but it's also exhausting, back breaking work for the support team.  Every hand is needed, especially on the second day when those who went through the first 24 hours are physically and mentally exhausted. 

I was lucky to have a great support team the first night.

Rachel, the barn manager, my trainer and friend, who lives on the premises.  She rolled her desk out of her office and joined us across from Champ's stall.  She worked on paperwork and schedules while we held vigil.  Rachel has seen Colic before and has hands on experience, she was our Leader.

My riding pal, Haley.  Who brought us a wonderful home cooked dinner and a great bottle of wine.  Haley is such a wonderful person, someone who can always make me smile.  She, like me, has fought confidence issues when riding.  She recently had a fall off her horse, got a concussion and was down for a week.  Two weeks later she was back on and cantering again.  I bestow my highest compliment to her - Grit.  Haley has Grit.

John, my husband.  Who went to various restaurants in town to get us whatever food we asked for (prior to knowing Haley was bringing us dinner).  He brought us the camp chairs, blankets, my phone charger, a sleeping bag and (I still smile).....an extra pair of socks.???  When I asked about the socks, he said he was worried our feet would get cold that night.  Pretty sweet!

Colleen our daughter, who cancelled all evening plans, arriving to pitch in to do whatever was needed, never leaving my side.  Champ was her horse before she quit riding and went off to college.  She rarely stops by to see him, yet I know she still cares for him.  As we sat in our camp chairs outside Champ's stall waiting for the next 20 minute walk, she quietly started crying.  I sat next to her, trying to mentally comfort her, afraid if I tried to physically comfort her she'd rebuff me.  I knew she was beating herself up about rarely visiting Champ.

I thought about how often we take things we care about for granted until they're in jeopardy or gone.   Soon I was also silently crying.  I reached over and put my hand on her shoulder and in a bit we both got ourselves under control.

There the four of us sat on a rare, clear evening, taking turns walking Champ on the hour, remarking on how pink Mount Rainer was when the sun set, and later how bright the full moon was in the warm evening.  We were a rather jovial group that first night, sharing stories, swapping philosophies on life.

Around 11 PM Champ started to act like his old self, although his physical situation hadn't changed.  A call from the vet, checking in, said to keep walking Champ and if he was still like this at 1 AM we could check him every few hours.  Since Rachel lives onsite, she volunteered to do the checking.

As 1 AM came, nobody offered to leave.  None of us wanted to be the first to call it a night.  We fought off our exhaustion, walking Champ on the hour until about 3 AM, where we all left at the same time.

Sleep avoided me, too hyped up to rest I guess.  I was up, dressed and on my way back to the barn by 6 AM Thursday morning.  Rachel was already there.  We drank the coffees I'd picked up and I started the hourly waking again, legs and feet aching from the previous day, eyes puffy from lack of sleep. 

My second hour of walking, Champ gave us the first hope we'd seen.  A nice pile of rock hard poop which I will now refer to as "deposits".  The vet arrived a few hours later and checked it out.  Said it was part of the 'plug' but not the impaction.  Eight more bags of fluids went into Champ.  Five hours later Champ gave us another deposit and then a few hours later another one. 

The vet called with the lab results.  Champ had a urinary tract infection.  The strain from the infection and not drinking had probably caused the Colic.  He examined Champ and told us the plug was out and now we had to wait for the impaction to pass.  Twelve more bags of fluids went into Champ, who still refused to drink.  The vet warned us that it was going to very painful when Champ passed the impaction.

In the late afternoon, Rachel, Haley, Colleen and I found ourselves back together, but now we all sat in exhausted silence while Champ struggled in pain as he started to pass the impaction.  Around dinner time my husband arrived to take over for Colleen and I.  We gratefully headed home, both of us too tired to argue about staying.

I awoke to see my husband was home.  Things were going better at the barn; Champ was making regular deposits, drinking water and had slurped up the mush presented to him.  Haley, who has a camper van was spending the night outside the barn and would check on Champ every few hours.  Walking on the hour was no longer required.

Friday morning I returned to the barn and met Rachel.  Champ was now on antibiotics for his infection and we were directed to turn him out as usual and hand graze him a couple of times during the day.  I was relieved to see Champ eating his hay and drinking.  He was no longer dripping.

I returned later to hand graze and feed Champ his mash, loaded with his medication and carrots while Rachel took a well deserved overnight trip away from the barn.  I noticed Champ was dripping again, hadn't drank much water or eaten very much.  He wouldn't touch the delectable mash I'd made for him, no matter how much molasses or carrots I piled into it.  I texted Rachel, hating to bother her.  She assured me that it would take a few days for the antibiotics to kick in and that we had other methods to get Champ to take his meds if the mash didn't work.

Status was still the same on Saturday.  I hand grazed Champ and saw he'd eaten a little and drank a little but still was dripping.  Rachel returned home and gave him a super special mash but he only ate a bit of it.

Today is Sunday.  More hand grazing today.  Rachel and I discussed the situation.  She successfully pushed his meds down him tonight instead of in the mash.  But like me, she's worried because Champ still isn't himself.  She'll look in on him later.  I expect we'll call the vet back tomorrow if things haven't changed and anticipate reinserting the catheter and running more IV's.

Where this will end, I'm not sure.

On a positive note.  In my last post about my (former) +10 Day, I wrote about hoping our daughter, Colleen, would take a lesson on Thursday.  She indeed did take that lesson, as exhausted as she was, riding my new horse, Poco.  The longer she rode the bigger she smiled.  It was neat to see she still has a natural elegance and poise when she rides and she really liked Poco.

It felt good to smile, if only for a short time.