Happy Birthday, Mr. Big!

Well, happy belated birthday, Biggie. I'm afraid everything is on hold here in the Nest right now, as our beloved little Piebald Kitty had been tentatively diagnosed with cancer. But we did celebrate Mr. Big's 12th birthday on Tuesday with a special can of wet dog food for breakfast and then one his favorites, tuna, with dinner. He's feeling pretty good these days, and with the weather cooling off--finally--to more Samoyed-friendly temperatures, and a Tall Boy (Golden Boy) to keep him company, Mr. Big's life is much better than it was earlier this year. So Happy Barkday (in Interweb dogspeak) to my darling boy, my beautiful boy.

Canine Art

I Walked How Far?

As stated in the previous post, late October turned into one giant Scientific Undertaking for yours truly. Two projects, two different clients, two different parts of the state. All added up to my having walked over 35 miles for science the past three weeks. Some was walked in heat of almost 100 degrees Farenheit (that's 37.7 degrees Celcius to the rest of the world). Some was walked in a torrential downpour so heavy that my sodden feet were sliding back and forth in my work boots (Ah, but I did not get the data wet! The Nerdy Scientist triumphs!).
Some was walked across plowed agricultural fields so soft that one sank above one's ankles in dirt (think about walking through 8 inches of snow). later than normal heat + later than normal rain = later than normal blooming plants ----> intense allergy attacks. Some places were inaccessible by road, so we walked in and walked out, which is why I'm not really certain how far we walked in total. Far, I know it was far.

All in the name of science.

Crock Pot Craziness

Things have been slow here in the Nest, but work is about to ramp up to 10- to 14-hour days with a field project out of town. "Aha!" said I  to myself, "the perfect excuse to dust off the crock pots and get some cooking done ahead of time so you can fall exhausted onto the couch and mindlessly chow down after a long, hot day of science."

Yes, that's crock pots with an 's'. Mother of Mossy passed down an old family crock pot years ago, which is quite small, and because it's old, does not have a removable liner. This last makes it the devil's own pain in the tuchus to clean. Last Christmas, Neighbor T gave me a larger crock pot with a removable stone liner. Naturally, I took this scheduling nightmare (did I mention my students have their mid-term exam Monday night, after my 12- to 13-hour day?) as a challenge to find two things to make simultaneously in both crock pots. Behold the results: Cowboy Casserole and Breakfast Casserole.

My version of Cowboy Casserole, a crock pot staple you can find on many websites, involved one-third less meat, one fewer potato, and great northern beans instead of red kidney beans because that's what I had in the pantry. Necessity being the mother of making do.

The furry helpers were underfoot, of course, hoping a big ol' slab of meat would suddenly fall onto the floor, where it would be fair game. Didn't happen.

Breakfast Casserole consisted of 4 of those rectangular hash brown patties, 8 eggs, half a box of tofu bacon, and handfuls of cheese. Sampled this morning and the hash brown patties were not a bad substitute for real hash browns. I am very happy that my morning routine this very busy week will involve making my tea, popping a bowlful of casserole in the microwave, and feeding the zoo, saving me about 15 minutes of prep time. I enjoy making breakfast and having a nice, relaxed start to the day, but that won't happen for the next few weeks anyway, and this means the boys will get a short walk in before they get left alone for 12 hours or so.

Yea me, for being organized for a change.

The Am I Blue Shawl

Bernat Crochet Shawl 4922. Paton's Lace Porcelain, 1.3 skeins (next time, use more), wet blocked dimensions 44 inches by 26 inches (I'd like it a tad bigger--will try steam blocking to get another inch out of it). After I figured out the designer wanted you to crochet in the ch 1 sp and in the ch1 itself, it was easy as pie.

How I Spent My Summer

This summer was just as stressful as the past three summers have been. My sweet little cat, L, who is somewhere around 17 years old, was sick the past three summers. Her health problems may stem from the mauling that occurred on my driveway and brought her to my home seven years ago; some may be age related. But the past three summers she's had such a severe bladder infection and lost weight each time that she never regained, that I swear, I thought each summer would be her last. She went from 8 lbs to barely 5.5 lbs. This year, amazingly, no bladder infection, no chronic constipation. Could it be the Chinese herbs Dr. M has her on are working?

So I started the summer afraid what it might bring for L. I didn't think it would be Mr. Big whose health would be under assault.

Poor guy. After losing our beloved Pupgirl in February, he lost weight. He scraped his back, and they clipped a tonsure-like circle to clean the wound. At the end of March I took him in for a senior dog wellness check, and his thyroid (he's been on thyroid medicine for about 2 years) was great, all his various values were great, and other than being 11.5 years old, he was great and in good health. We decided to wait a month and then check on him again if the fur hadn't started to regrow.

When a month had gone by and it hadn't, his vet suspected Cushing's disease, given this one symptom (lack of fur regrowth) and his age. There were no other symptoms. Ya'll know how vigilantly I watch my animals. Heck, I inspect the poop every time I pick up (which is every day). Weird, I know, but it shows how dedicated to these animals I am. So had he had any of the other symptoms, I'd have noticed.

Urinalysis in April indicated high ALP, but nothing else. Dexamethasone suppression test in early May indicated Cushing's. ACTH stimulation test a week later proved it. Ordered the Trilostane, the compounded medicine his vet wanted him to take because it has fewer side effects, from the pharmacy in the Big Metropolis, which he started taking just as Tall Boy arrived in his new home (my home). A month later, another ACTH stim test. Numbers are still not right, so Dr. M-the-first (not the acupuncture/Chinese herb vet, but his regular vet)  lowered the Trilostane dose.

Mr. Big then had a severe case of diarrhea. Off the Trilostane for a week, then back on. Then he began drinking a lot, peeing a lot, eating unusual things ravenously (dirt, twigs, he even pulled a paper bag out of the cupboard, tore a large piece off, and ate it). Lots of phone calls between me and Dr. M-the-first then ensued  because I was worried he was one of the few dogs that reacts to Trilostane. Dr. M-the-first consulted with 2 internists, then a third, over Mr. Big's case; they all agreed he has Cushing's disease. "Then why is he having symptoms now after two months on the Trilostane that he didn't have before he was diagnosed?"

Then in mid-August, Mr. Big had diarrhea again, the most severe case in the ten years I've owned him. Back off the Trilostane for 3 days, on a bland diet for a week and a half, and my insisting there's something wrong, Rear end weakness had started by then, another symptom of Cushing's he didn't have before he was diagnosed. We did a third ACTH stim test at the beginning of September, and I insisted on another complete blood panel (after the one done in late March; and these are not cheap, Gentle Reader), because I know something is wrong. Dr. M-the-first, perhaps flippantly, said it wasn't Cushing's but perhaps neurological.

We are fortunate that the Old Town has one of the 100 veterinary neurologists in the country, so to spite Dr. M-the-first and prove him wrong (being petulant can be expensive), I made an appointment for Mr. Big. He saw Dr. G last week, who agreed with me that Mr. Big has no neurological problem; he's old, yes, but everything checked out fine in his neurological assessment. But Dr. G did consider that there could be some underlying internal reason not visible in a physical exam. He recommended an ultrasound. Then he tracked down one of their internists to talk to me about the Cushing's. The internist agreed with me that something was wrong if Mr. Big was worse on the medicine than before. Meanwhile, the stim test results of the day before had come in and Dr. V, the internist, had them faxed to this hospital from Dr. M-the-first's hospital while I was there. Mr. Big's cortisol levels are perfect now, so the Trilostane is doing it's job, but his thyroid, which had been perfect at 3.1 on March 31, was 6.3, well beyond the canine normal of 1-4.  Dr. V reduced Mr. Big's thyroid meds by one-third, and said that the ultrasound would be useful, but we could wait. Dr. M-the-first reduced the Trilostane dose by 0.1 ml, even though Dr. V thought we should wait to see if the thyroid med reduction worked.

Having lost too many animals to cancer or rare things like bullae emphysema-caused spontaneous pnuemothoraxes, I scheduled the ultrasound. That's why I work two jobs, so I can spend my money the way I see fit, and keeping my animals healthy is how I see fit to spend it. A stroke of luck--the ultrasound showed Mr. Big is just fine. No masses, his adrenal glands look fine, his kidneys and liver look fine, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Dr. M-the-first admitted he hadn't thought that the thyroid had been affected by the Trilostane. Apparently in getting one part of the endocrine system under control (the adrenals), we upset another that was being controlled by meds (the thyroid). Dr. V said that within 4 or 5 days, Mr. Big should start to feel better if that was the problem, and it looks like it was. By Sunday, he was drinking far less and not spending every moment outdoors eating dirt. He was moving around more, seemed perkier and happier, and didn't tire as easily on his daily walk. He even raced around the backyard, chased by Tall Boy, and leapt (leapt!) into the wading pool.

I almost have my boy back. Hopefully, with the thyroid back under control, and the Trilostane working, his fur will start to regrow. In addition to the shaved patch on his back, he's lost patchy fur in places on his body and on his temples. Maybe by the holidays, it will have started to regrow. I almost have my boy back.

So that's how I spent my summer. Spending lots of money at the various veterinary hospitals around town, worried about The Zoo, terrified I was going to lose someone.

But the weather is finally starting to dip below 80 degrees Farenheit at night, the humidity is dropping, which means autumn is on its way, Tall Boy and I are in our second obedience class, my class that I teach is underway so that second paycheck has started arriving, and I am breathing a little. Finally,

Frogmore Stew

     Froggy stew? Eh? Noo!  Frogmore stew, also known as low country boil, was on the Labor Day menu. I'm hankering to live somewhere else, somewhere with water, maybe a lake or stream or ocean, where cool days are more the norm that an record-setting exception. I'm hankering to reread all my books that take place on Cape Cod. So for my Labor Day party, I thought I'd make a seafood dish that was not too fishy for the non-fish lovers attending. And with just four ingredients plus some spices, Frogmore stew fit the bill nicely. The recipe has a charming history, too.
     Arizona-grown corn from the you-pick farm 150 miles from here (courtesy of T), real kielbasa from the Polish butcher in NJ (courtesy of MoM), and shrimp and potatoes courtesy of my local grocery store. Threw in the Old Bay seasoning, let the whole thing boil (see action photo above) and voila, yummy summery supper. Desert was the roasted banana pudding described in the previous post, and all was accompanied by  a fruity iced tea (the Tea in the Parlor post for today for specifics). Delicious! If it was 106 degrees Farenheit outside, you might almost have believed you were at the shore.