FOT Forum
FOT Community => General Discussion => Topic started by: Sarah on September 07, 2007, 01:39:10 PM
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The beginning of the end of the most recent chapter in my exciting life. I'm sure you've all been dying to know. Here's the sorry story:
On Tuesday evening, young boxer Zach and thirteen-year-old Bandit got into yet another fight. As far as I can reconstruct, after staying away from the proceedings except to hoist Zach up by his hind legs in an attempt to get him to stop, I saw the two brawlers disengage for a moment and reached for Zach's collar, hoping to haul him away from Bandit's throat. I felt a sting on my left ring finger and promptly moved away from the tussle. Soon after, the two let go of each other long enough for me to haul Zach inside the house and slam the door shut. I then noticed, to my surprise, that my finger was bleeding profusely. I held my hand up to get a better look and saw that my finger was cocked at a forty-five-degree angle at the first joint. I called my ex-doctor sister to tell her I thought my finger was broken, and she came down to my house, took one brief look at my finger, turned away with a gasp of horror, and said she'd take me to the emergency room. There, after several hours, I learned that my finger was indeed broken, bitten to the bone, and the tendon severed. I spent a pleasant night in the emergency room and was wheeled off to surgery at 8 or so the following morning. In the recovery room two hours later, my sister told me that at around 5 a.m. Zach had attacked Bandit. The fight lasted forty-five minutes, during most of which Bandit was lying on his back screaming while Zach was worrying his throat. When he finally could be stopped (a neighbor up the hill heard the sound of the fight and called to find out what was going on and then sent her burly husband down to help my poor, tiny sister, and his deep, ferocious voice finally snapped Zach out of his frenzy), it was clear that Bandit needed to be taken to the vet immediately. He's still there now, and it looks like he's going to die--of shock, since his injuries weren't all that severe.
Needless to say, Zach will no longer be living with me--indeed, I had already decided on Tuesday night that he would have to go--and I'm now trying to find someone who can take him in. There's a very active boxer rescue network in this country, so there's hope that he'll be able to be placed with someone who can give him what he needs: a home with no other animals and a person who won't leave him alone for long stretches of time and will give him a lot of exercise, discipline, and love (I was only good at the last). I will be very sad to see him go (I blame myself, not him, for what happened), and I feel very guilty about everything. I just hope it doesn't turn out that I have to take him to the vet and hold him as a fatal injection is administered.
As for me, well, the top of my finger was almost bitten off (it was being held on only by skin and a ligament, apparently). Part of the tendon was missing--a little snack for Bandit, which seems only fair, in light of subsequent events--so one of the the two tendons of the index finger was snipped away and spliced to what remained. For now, there's a little yellow ball sticking out of the tip of my ring finger that's quite fetching. And I can heartily recommend the Machias hospital where, as strange as it sounds, I actually sort of enjoyed my stay. Really decent people, and a nice quiet room on the ground floor--a single, even!--with a window that opened. Nurses who were very helpful (one went out to his car to see if he had a book for me when I was expressing horror at the thought of having nothing to read during the endless hours of waiting. He returned with something by Clive Cussler--dreck but welcome nonetheless--and said I could keep the book) and willing to break small rules (another told me if I was dying for a cig, she'd unhook me from my IV so I could go out into the parking lot with the aide with whom she was partnered--also a smoker--to get my fix; I didn't take her up on her offer, but it was appreciated). Even the food was more edible than usual, although my first meal, two hours post-op, was surprisingly demanding: spare ribs, scalloped potatoes, peas, and a big piece of apple pie. So, if any of you is ever taken ill in my neck of the woods, I can heartily recommend Downeast Community Hospital. Whether the surgeon was competent, only time will tell, but in all other respects, several thumbs up.
There you have it. By selfishly deciding to acquire a young dog so that I wouldn't suffer as much when my most beloved old one died, I have possibly killed not only the dog I love most but also perhaps the dog I adopted to ease my pain when the other died. The finger is nothing in comparison.
I think this is a sufficient excuse for missing the show, no?
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I'm sorry you had such an un-fun night. :-[
Also, I'm sorry about Bandit and Zach. Poor Bandit! :'(
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:'(
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Holy moly, that's awful.
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Sarah I am so sorry!
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Thank you, all of you.
No new news about Bandit, but I can report that Zach has been retrieved by the people who are responsible for his existing in the first place. They will care for him till they find him the right home. If they can't find one, they'll keep him. This is a huge relief.
Now, if only Bandit recovers, all will be well, and I can concentrate on healing and punishing myself. And paying off my huge hospital bill (my deductible is ridiculously high).
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Jesus, Sarah, what a horrible night. I'm so sorry to hear about it. I hope that whatever happens Bandit doesn't suffer too much. Or you, or Zach for that matter.
I've mostly listened to the show on podcast because it's more convenient, but now I feel like I can never miss it again.
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I'm really sorry to hear about that, Sarah - that's just terrible.
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Today's update: the vet called at 7:15 last night to report that, while Bandit still isn't eating and won't yet get to his feet on his own, when they set him upright yesterday, he actually poked around a bit and even did some curious sniffing in the corners. This is the first interest he's shown in anything and so is a VERY GOOD SIGN. Recovery is still by no means a certainty, but the vet seemed much more hopeful. And, to complete the trifecta of yesterday's good news, last night I finally pooped--the first time since Tuesday morning. (Sorry for the--literal--toilet talk, but, phew, what a relief.)
Now if only the cats would decide to come inside . . .
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Zoiks!
I'm just reading this, and I'm far too horrified to make a Michael Vick joke.
Seriously, I hope that you and the dogs are well and how the fuck are you typing?
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I'm far too horrified to make a Michael Vick joke.
You know, I was very pleased that my father made such a joke during our first post-op conversation.
how the fuck are you typing?
One-handed, natch--perhaps one of the few occasions on the Internet when this does not denote Filthy Laurie-type activity.
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Oh my lord, OUCH!
Reading your account for what transpired, I was sent reeling through the spectrum of human emotion. the most prevalent being, of course, HOLY F**K!
I am glad you are ok. Get well soon.
-KTB
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Open letter to Sarah,
You are seemingly a Grade A decent person and you deserve better.
R
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Dear FOT:
Thank you all for your kind words and good wishes. I can report that things are much better in Lubec. Bandit is doing astoundingly well. His appetite is superb, and he's moving around on his own and in good spirits. My noble sister is steadily snipping off the dead bits of his ear (there won't be much left by the time she's through), so the smell is less nauseating and the approximately four-by-seven-inch wound on his neck, ever more exposed to the air, can really start to heal. And though his liver is in distress right now, I think diet and clean living will take care of that in time.
I'm doing better as well. Afflicted with a wracking cough but now fitted with a remarkable device that protects my finger and lets me use the others fairly safely. It looks a little like this:
(http://www.reveals.com/images/Image52.gif)
No update on Zach, but I'm sure he's doing fine. And the cats are getting back to normal as well.
There you have it. I promise not to post excessively about Bandit's and my recovery, but I figured you might like to hear some good news.
You are all wonderful.
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Good dogs win! Great news.
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Sarah = ROBO-FOT
I hereby am commissioning a study on the potential for these so-called "devices" to be used in gaining an unfair competitive advantage in Acrowars.
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I hope you and our pal get well soon!!!
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Glad to hear that everyone is on the mend and I just have to say that I'm really glad that you don't have a digital camera.
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Glad to hear that everyone is on the mend and I just have to say that I'm really glad that you don't have a digital camera.
Though nothing's stopping her from putting the offending finger on the scanner bed.
EDIT: except the possession of one
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Luckily for you guys, I don't even have a flat-bed scanner. Otherwise, I'd be showing off the monster finger like crazy. But even if I had a digital camera, I think I'd spare you the sight of Bandit's grotesque wound, which is really giving me the creeps now that it's so visible. Plus he keeps rubbing it against my leg, which literally smells like death. Thank god for the congestion that's mostly causing me to breathe through my mouth these days.
Too much information?
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Sarah I'm so happy to hear that both Zach and Bandit sound as though they're doing well.
I know your finger will heal, but it sounds like you're being a too hard on yourself... don't be. You're an angel for loving animals the way you do and others should aspire to be so kind and caring towards them.
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Weekly update: Bandit is very well, though in some ways looking worse as large patches of hair fall off the wounds on the less-damaged side of his head. As for the worse side, it looks like he'll end up with a small flap of ear large enough, at least, to offer some protection to his ear hole.
The finger heals. I was irritated/amused when the splint device fell apart in my hands as I tried to don it this morning, but my handy sister repaired it with Super Glue, so the digit is now appropriately restrained.
And my cold is finally going away.
All in all, life is just great.
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glad to hear the recovery is going well.
I'll have you know that I sustained an empathic injury last week while hanging a painting at work. I smashed the tip of my right ring finger square on the nail and boy did it smart. nothing like your battle wound, though.
check it out. the holes are where I had to bore into my fingernail to release the almost-black blood that was trapped underneath.
(http://kickthebobo.com//myfinger.jpg)
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KTB I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Your injury probably hurt more than mine,* Bobo, although if I could post a picture of it--even now--Laurie would likely dispatch a hit squad here, instead of limiting herself to a verbal reprimand. And if she saw Bandit, she might blow up the whole town.
*And I bet you lose that nail.
P.S. I forgot to report that on Tuesday we learned that the vet had figured Bandit had a 25% chance of surviving when she sent him home with us the week before. So his recovery really is pretty remarkable.
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KTB I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm sorry, Laurie. Is this any better?
(http://kickthebobo.com//myfinger.gif)
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*And I bet you lose that nail.
well, if i do, somebody is gonna be getting an early Tom'sday gift.