When asked the "what do you do for a living?" question my reply is
usually met with the response that "euthanasias must be so hard". In
reality, most pets are euthanized for good cause and it is much harder
emotionally when an owner can't make the decision to end their pet's
suffering.
Today a stability check was called for a dog that
"wasn't doing well in the lobby" and when I ran to go get it I was met
with a receptionist running towards treatment with the dog. I helped
open the door for her and grabbed the oxygen as she laid it on the
table. As I placed the mask over the dog's mouth the receptionist began
to tell me the patient's history. He had a history of CHF (Congestive
Heart Failure) for the last 3 years, well managed with medication, then
acutely had trouble breathing and wet sounding respirations this
morning.
The dog was given a dose of furosamide and then the
doctor left to talk to the owner. Upon her return I reported that the
dogs color was getting worse and his RR had nearly doubled. But, I was
told the owner wasn't prepared to euthanize and had to think it over.
The doctor attempted to suck out some of the pinkish foam that was
gathering in the dog's pharynx to allow him to breathe better and when
it was clear that it wasn't really helping she left again to tell the
owner that the dog was going downhill pretty fast.
And, as the
owner weighed the decision, I was left standing there with this bug-eyed
dog who was fighting for air. At first he was making up for his fluid
filled lungs by simply breathing faster. This allowed the tiny portion
of his lungs that weren't drowning in fluid to exchange enough oxygen to
keep him alive and pink at first. But by the time the doctor came back
from talking to the owner the dog's color was muddy and he was trying
to sit up in an effort to allow his lungs to expand just a little
further. After the doctor left the second time the dog started to fight
the oxygen mask. He was panicking as he was drowning due to the fluid
in his chest. He tried standing several times, but the increased effort
caused him to breathe even harder and faster with each attempt. I
tried to calm him, tried to hold him up so he could expand his chest
without using extra energy to stand. I tried to deliver the oxygen in
any way I could think of to reduce his stress, and tried to talk to him,
pet him, keep him warm. But the whole time I kept staring at the real
solution -the euthanasia solution in the syringe one foot away. Because
I knew there was no winning this fight. All that could be hoped for
was a peaceful end -soon.
And it eventually happened. He just
went limp in my arms and seized as his heart gave up. In the end the
owner didn't have to make the decision that she dreaded so much. I
cleaned him up and carried him in for her to say goodbye and she got to
skip seeing him panicked and fighting for air for who knows how long. I
don't blame her for her hesitation, though. I know firsthand that
giving the okay to euthanize feels like you, yourself, are killing your
friend, your family member. But as one who spends those last precious
moments with many terminal patients I can say that euthanasia is not
something I fear. In fact it is sometimes something that I sometimes
wish for desperately.
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