What did happen this week wasn't what we planned. First, Bill had been working on constructing a cart aka "a dog wheelchair" for Lulu. He's pretty handy guy and thought it wouldn't be that difficult. He had ordered parts from various sources and found a lot of interested and supportive people along the way. But, after countless attempts, we could not get the cart functioning properly, and Lulu was unable to use it.
To add to our disappointment, my hope for Lulu was dashed by a chiropractor I met at a networking event this past Monday. While he and I were discussing Lu's case, he unceremoniously said that if she hadn't shown signs of movement in her back end by now, it wasn't likely she ever would since nerve tissue dies after trauma like hers. Lamely, I protested, saying that there had been some twitches and spasms. While he seemed like a nice enough guy, the expression on his face indicated to me that he felt sorry for my nonacceptance of the matter.
While Bill and I were disheartened by the issue with the cart and the comment by the chiropractor, Lulu did have a chance to be a bit of herself this week. I had yard work to complete before the weather turned too cold, so I brought the baby, Lulu and Gus outside with me. It was a joy to see Lulu patrolling the neighborhood again, even if it was from the sidelines. She seemed rejuvenated after her long break outside in the grass, and has shown more spunk ever since (though Lu has never lacked in the spunk department).
We visited the good doctor for another acupuncture treatment this afternoon. I found it sadly disappointing to relate that no real progress occurred during the week. Regardless of our feelings over the stagnation, Lulu received her treatment with an almost serene attitude. During therapy, Dr. Krausser and I discussed the issue of the malfunctioning cart. I told her Bill and I decided to set aside our prototype and purchase a cart from a company that makes them to order. I had talked to one of the owners of the company yesterday afternoon. I told Dr. Krausser that my conversation with the woman gave me back a little bit of hope, as she shared with me that the company was founded after her own dog became paralysed with IVDD. Her dog had used a cart for six months before regaining the ability to walk. She said that in her experience long recoveries are often the norm in cases of conservative care IVDD.
In addition to getting Lu wheels, we decided to try a Thunder Shirt, a compression garment meant to calm dogs. The item works sort of like swaddling an infant, and Dr. Krausser thinks it may have the added benefit of relieving spinal inflammation. So far, I do think Lu seems more relaxed, but I want to give it a few days before I form my final opinion.
Like any good story, there should always be the element of surprise, and this post is no exception. After a long day of hauling around a paralysed dog, pacifying a teething infant, and trying to give a moment's attention to Gus, Bill comes in from taking Lu potty and says, "Watch this." He sets Lulu to standing, and for a moment, she holds herself upright on shaking, whithered legs. I was amazed! Bill propped her up again, and Lu stood there briefly for a second time, then a third and a fourth. I asked, "Did she just start doing that?" He replied that she did it this morning for the first time, but he forgot to tell me. What? He forgot to tell me? While I'm dumbfound on how one doesn't recall such a powerful display of intention, I can't be angry because I'm so very thrilled that hope may be more than just a dream.
