Stepping on a Sea Urchin

Last week, I blogged about Angel's medical emergency, but I'm overdue to fill you in on mine . . .

As regular readers may recall, the end of July was a fun, but particularly hectic, time for me.  During a brief lull one Sunday, Beau went out diving (free-diving and spear-fishing) for the day, and I decided to treat myself, too.

French Toast

I slept in a little - anything past 6:30am is a luxury!  When I woke up, I was craving French Toast, but I didn't have any bread in the house.  I used that as an excuse to do the decadent thing that sounded fun to me - I took myself out to breakfast!  Just a short golf cart ride away, I went to the local marina/restaurant and enjoyed a sit-down breakfast while greeting various friends who were working or passing through.

One friend joined me for a while and suggested I join her group on a boating excursion.  I hesitated, with laundry on the line and thinking of the leisurely things I could do back home before joining Beau and the guys for fish-cleaning camaraderie later.  But it was a beautiful day, and it sounded fun.  "We're not even packing lunch," she said, "so we'll be back by early afternoon."  That clinched it.

Boat Ride

After a brief stop home to take care of Angel and change into a swimsuit, off we went.  What a glorious day!  Our small group ended up in a particularly beautiful area of shallow water and sand bars.  We anchored the boat, floated a cooler to a sliver of sand in the midst of the shallow sea, pushed a sun umbrella into the water's bottom, and proceeded to float in bliss.

Knowing from prior experience that I should not attempt to "keep up with" my girlfriend and her copious amounts of wine, I had a splash of wine with my club soda and enjoyed a spritzer while we hung out in the water.

After a while, we noticed a friend out on his property on the small private island nearby.  My girlfriend and I left the others and swam over to say hello.  After chatting, he invited us to cross over the little channel to his main property and come up - the others had pulled the boat around to his dock and would join us.

Uh-Oh

As I waded through chest-deep water, I was surprised by how strong the current was in the little channel.  Because of that, I was perhaps stepping more forcefully as I made my way across.  All of a sudden, "OWWW!"  I had stepped on something sharp.  I commented to my friends, but we figured I'd cut my foot on a conch shell or something, and we kept going toward shore.  However, the pain started to worsen, and I couldn't walk so well.  I lifted up my feet and started to swim.  But my leg was kinda seizing up, and my brain was feeling a little muddled by the sudden pain, so I wasn't able to swim as strong as usual, and I felt myself being carried away by the current.  

I called out to my girlfriend and was able to grab her hand.  She pulled me to the rocky edge of the property, and our other friend suggested we take a look.  I lifted my foot out of the water.  The entire sole was covered by grey dots.  "Oh my God," he said, "you stepped on a sea urchin.  But I've never seen so many!"

After nearly three decades around these parts, I've never stepped on a sea urchin.  I've only admired them while snorkeling.  They are roundish, come in a variety of sizes and colors, and are covered with porcupine-like needles or spines.  Images and info about these creatures can be found here.  All of a sudden, I had a whole new appreciation for them.

My leg had totally seized up by this point, and my friends told me not to put any weight on my foot.  Apparently, when I stepped on the unseen sea urchin, the spines broke off in my foot.  So, with one friend pulling each arm, I floated while they dragged me over to his dock.

Our other friends had joined us by this time.  I'm sure I was the picture of grace as I crawled up the steps in my swimsuit.  Once we reached the landing (where our friend has a spectacular outdoor living room), I collapsed on a couch. I asked them to call Beau and let him know where I was.  The time had gotten away and it was mid-afternoon, and I knew he'd be looking for me to join him at the fish-cleaning bench, and my cell phone and stuff was still in the boat.

Treatment
 
They reached Beau and turned to tending to me.  Now, the well-known home remedy to relieve the intense pain from a sea urchin sting is for someone to PEE on it!  I was hurting enough that I welcomed that.  Alas, none of my friends cared to oblige (and it didn't occur to me until later that I may have been able to maneuver that feat by myself?)  Instead, they brought me a basin of fresh water with Epsom Salt, and I began to soak my foot.

I was proud that my friends were all calling me brave.  I hadn't shed a tear or whined too much about the pain.  BUT IT HURT.  We counted the grey spots on my foot, and I had NINETEEN holes where sharp spines had pushed into my foot and broken off.  Good times.

In addition to the Epsom Salt, my friends decided it would be a good idea to medicate me by plying me with alcohol.  One friend had prescription painkillers, but I had the presence of mind to figure that was not a great idea for me.  And yet, I permitted myself to be liquored up.  Not good.

From here on, the story gets a bit fuzzy, as did the pain.  I vaguely recall wine, champagne, vodka and who knows what else being poured.  I recall the sky darkening as day faded to night.  I remember waking up and being in a different location on the deck, still salty and in my swimsuit, but covered with a sarong wrap, and I could hear my friends in the other room.

If this had been my little island, I would have gotten myself home from the inception of this mess.  But I didn't want to impose on my friends' time by interrupting their fun to take me home.  At some point, however, I no longer cared.  In my inebriated state, I was a little out of my head!  I was crying and calling out Beau's name.  So much for not crying and conducting myself in a calm manner.  I just wanted to go home!

Homeward Bound
 
My next memory is hearing Beau's voice in the distance.  He's here!!  I started crying and calling out to him.  My girlfriend came over to reassure me, but also to tell me to get it together!  Beau walked onto the porch and saw me lying there, a mess, and said "Oh Lord."  My friend showed him my foot, and we started to head for Beau's boat.  I couldn't hobble very well, so Beau ended up carrying me to the boat to take me back to our island a few miles away.

My next memory is being in the nurse's office.  Although it was evening by now, Beau had called her and taken me to the clinic.  So there I was, lying on the examining table in my bikini, and trying to act like I wasn't a total wreck.  The nurse cleaned my foot and used tweezers to pull out two of the spines that were near the surface.  WOW did THAT hurt.  We both thought it best not to dig any deeper.  The spines are known to come out on their own later and/or be absorbed into the body.

The nurse gave me some painkillers and antibiotics and wrapped my foot.  Heading home with Beau, he stopped to pick up some food that he'd ordered at a local restaurant and insisted that I eat, then I fell straight into bed.  Poor Beau.  That had to be a test of his patience as well as his care-taking skills!

In dire need of a pedicure, but that's the least of my concerns.

The next morning, the pain had diminished.  I believe that is typical, but I also think any remaining pain was overshadowed by the massive hangover I was enduring.  I managed to shower off the prior day's salt.  Then I spent the rest of the day on the couch, with a brief visit to the nurse for a follow-up check, and alternating rounds of soaking my foot in peroxide.

Angel providing moral support during a foot soak.

Overnight, the pronounced grey spots had changed to faded red spots.  Thankfully, no spines were in my toes or on the ball of my foot, so I was able to hobble around for the next few days on my tiptoes.  The pain was gone, except when I put weight on my foot, and over the course of the next week or so, that subsided, too.

Hard to see all 19 when this was taken, but - trust me - they are there!

This non-dramatic photo undermines how much pain those little suckers caused.

The spines never did "pop out."  Who knows - one friend told me he had some come out of his foot a YEAR later!  I picked out two of them a few weeks ago.  They were so small it was incredible how much pain they had caused.  As for the rest, I think some have been absorbed.  In other spots, I can still feel hard little bumps deep down, but I'm going to just let them do their thing at this point.  

There's no pain at all now.

Well, except for the embarrassing memory of the day.  As we say around here, "What a mess!"

A Mother's Love (or, How to Not Kill Your Dog)

Oh Boy.  What a week.  Why did I disappear again, just after I'd told you I was excited to be writing again?  Well, I was busy keeping my dog alive . . .

After a whirlwind of travel last month, followed by a friendly visit from Tropical Storm Isaac, I was finally enjoying getting settled in to our island routine again.  This is a particularly quiet time of year on the island - turns out hurricane season is not a draw for the tourists - and I was enjoying the slow summer pace.  After posting last Monday, I decided to take advantage of the deliciously warm summer sea and go for a swim.

After wrapping up various chores late afternoon, I threw on a swimsuit, grabbed a beach towel and called out to Angel, "Wanna go swimming?"  As this phrase is well-recognized in her little dog vocabulary, she came trotting to the screen door, and out we went.  Traipsing down the back steps, our feet hit the sand and we strolled - well, I strolled and she scampered - to the water's edge.  I walked right in.  No need to dance the toes to get used to a chilly temperature.  No, the water is bathtub warm and so clear that I can see everything clearly in the 1-3 feet depth out back.

Angel waded in with me to her chest, then waded back out and raced around on the sand and coral rock.  Eventually, I walked back to the beach, scooped her up and carried her out to float with me in the slightly deeper water.  Ahhh, so relaxing.

Swimming in the backyard on another day.

After half an hour or so, I headed in.  Angel ran ahead of me and up the steps, probably attempting to escape the mandatory post-saltwater-sea-and-sand bath on the downstairs patio.  I walked up to retrieve her for her bath.  As I reached the top of the steps, I vaguely remember seeing her on the deck by the chaise lounges - had she just jumped up and slipped or fallen off?  I'm still not entirely clear.  All I know is that my baby began screaming in pain.

I don't mean whimpering or crying or even howling.  She was screaming, eyes wild with pain and terror and locked onto mine.  However, she wouldn't let me near her.  I kept looking at her, got down to her level and told her in soothing tones that she would be okay.

Today those big 'ol eyes are calm.

Finally, she let me pick her up gently.  I gave her a quick rinse with the hose.  Less for cleanliness concerns and more because in my desperation to help her, I wondered if the salt water was somehow stinging her.  That is not particularly logical, but is likely tied in my mind to the only other time I've heard Angel scream in pain - when rock salt on City sidewalks in our former winter world got in her paws.

Anyway, once I rinsed her and swaddled her in a towel, I simply held her until she calmed down.  At this point, I was sitting on the bedroom floor - away from the chill of the living room A/C - and both of us were dripping all over the tile floor.

After she calmed, I attempted to trouble-shoot the source of her pain.  I already knew she wasn't bleeding, although she did have a bad scrape on her inside thigh.  I also had felt her enough to know there were no broken bones apparent.  Did she throw her sensitive back out?  Did she fall and badly bruise her leg?

I just couldn't be sure.  All I knew was that my darling dog, who usually lets me poke and prod her with the nonchalant patience of a saint, wouldn't let me touch her anywhere on her back end.  Nor could she get comfortable to lie down or even sit.  She whimpered and was clearly in pain.

Desperate to ease her pain, but aware of her small size, I gave her a quarter tablet of Excedrin, the only pain relief medicine I had around.  Angel eventually was able to lie down, but she remained uncomfortable.  I had to carry her up and down the steps to go potty outside, and, even with my super-careful maneuvering, she winced every time I touched her.

The next day, I continued my Excedrin regimen.  Angel was eating and going about her business as usual, but she was very subdued and clearly still in discomfort.

Then, we reached Phase 2.  Angel began vomiting late Tuesday afternoon.  Hmmm, I presumed the Excedrin was upsetting her stomach, so I knew to discontinue that, but thought I'd look up online how to ease her tummy.  I hadn't even finished entering my key words "Excedrin" "dog" before other terrifying words and links started popping up.

Toxic.

Liver Failure.

Fatal.

No. No. No!  What had I done?!  Frantically, I began to read.  

(And why I hadn't googled this BEFORE I gave Excedrin to Angel, I'll never know!  I mean, I used to research for a living, for heaven's sake, and I remain queen of the google.  I guess I was just so focused on getting her relief that it didn't occur to me that my baby is not, in fact, a person and that I should check out the over-the-counter medicine she was about to trustingly take from me.  Sigh.)

So, it turns out that acetaminophen is extremely toxic to dogs (and caffeine ain't so great either).  It can cause liver failure and all kinds of dangers, even - gulp - death.  I was simultaneously reading everything I could at a rapid pace, instant messaging with an online vet service, and - after a tearful phone call to my father who worked decades in the pharmaceutical industry - reading the pharmacology information he sent me.  (If you're curious for the details, the vet "bible" gives the technical information here.)

Thankfully, I'd given her very small doses.  Even so, I was terrified that I'd done serious harm to her, and I was stricken with guilt and remorse at being the one to have done this to her!  I managed to reach my vet in Florida by phone and discussed this with him.  Unfortunately, all of the remedial steps recommended by my vet (and the online vet and my father) were simply impossible.  I had zero access to any of the veterinary medicines they discussed.   (Of course, no vet on this tiny island.)  I didn't even have access to a store that carried enough variety of human medications to get acceptable alternatives.

My only course of action was to withhold food, encourage water, get through the night and see how she was in the morning.  UGH.  (I even considered flying out with a private pilot that night, but we wouldn't have been able to land in the U.S. before Customs closed.)  By this time, Angel had stopped vomiting (after six episodes!).  She was listless, but not totally out of it.  She was also still in pain so it was difficult to tell if she was subdued from the pain, or because I poisoned her, or both!

Beau encouraged me to just make plans to take her to the vet the next morning - for my own peace of mind, to do whatever they could for her, and since she was still in pain anyway.  We first contemplated going to a vet in Nassau - it's a shorter flight and far cheaper than flying to the States.  But I decided I'd be more comfortable taking her to her regular vet in Florida rather than an unknown vet in Nassau (where we've had less-than-stellar vet experiences before, I hate to say).

Because it's the slow season, I didn't even know if I'd be able to get a flight out the next day.  It was after-hours, and the local charter service was closed.  Fortunately, one of the friendly staffers answered my after-hours email; they had a flight the next morning, and she put me and Angel on it!

I didn't sleep much that night, checking on Angel every time I heard her - and also when she was too quiet! - and making sure she wasn't showing other dangerous symptoms:  drooling, gum color change, jaundiced eyes, etc.  She seemed okay and, while I was sad that she was hungry, I was relieved to see her roaming the kitchen in search of breakfast, demonstrating that she still had her ever-present appetite.

After a heads up to the vet that we were headed in, Angel and I spent the morning in an airplane.  Upon landing, I went straight to the vet.  He had me leave her there so he could administer an iv with fluids, cleanse her liver, check her blood levels, give her a full xray, etc.  At the end of the day, I picked her up.  Good report!  He couldn't see permanent damage and her blood levels were okay.  He gave me a variety of medicines and homeopathic remedies to maintain with her, and we returned the next day to confirm the blood levels were still okay.  PHEW.

The vet shaved her little arm for the iv.  See her freckles/spots?!

He also surmised that her pain stemmed from an historically "bad knee" which has gotten worse, and he showed me the details on her little xray.  Thankfully, she seemed to have gotten herself righted again.  Although she still seemed a little sensitive, she was no longer in pain.

SO.  Moral of this story?  NO ACETAMINOPHEN FOR ANIMALS!  And really, don't give anything without checking it through the vet, or at least the almighty Google.  Duh.

Back home and relaxed today, shaved arm and all.

This story had a good ending.  As much as I ascribe human characteristics to Angel, even I don't think she is highly evolved enough to appreciate that I almost killed her (okay, that's a little dramatic, but I still feel terrible about it!) and that she, therefore, can be appreciative of her own Better Life!  :)

Kibble ball breakfast today, perky as ever.

Another good ending to this story is that it gave me the opportunity to see my dad, brother, grandparents, a good friend and to spend my mother's birthday weekend celebrating in person with her!

As a final aside, the unplanned trip also ended up with me attending a dynamic and entertaining presentation by Paul Efron about "Hope."  Paul, a guest speaker at my church that day, usually works in a recovery setting, and he is a wildly popular speaker about overcoming adversity.  In a delightful chat with him afterward, Paul also tuned me in to an intriguing book series and community of people - all coming from a place of gratitude and sharing their stories of triumph.  It's called Thank God I . . . and it has a definite Better Life philosophy!  Check it out at www.thankgodi.com

Now, I'm pleased to report that Angel and I are happily home. After arriving yesterday morning, I delighted in putting away Stateside groceries, starting the never-ending laundry, cooking for Beau who seems to have been subsisting largely on takeout and the mercy of others, enjoying the warm sun combined with a strong cool breeze, and relishing the HAPPY feeling of being home!

Angel back to her Better Life today, napping per usual.