"Can you recommend an eye cream for someone whose had surgery on their eyelids and has irriated, almost burned skin?"
I was at the Aveda store. One of the saleswomen seemed horrified and said "that person" should talk to their doctor. The other woman tried to help, talking to me about the various eye creams they carried. When I finally settled on one, I felt bad about her tactful confusion and so I confessed. "It's not for me, really. It's for a dog." I explained about Bruno, about how his corrective eye surgery has had some unwanted results--what should have been a straightforward recovery has turned in to a protracted and complicated effort to alleviate pain, keep him from rubbing his eyelids and speed the rejuvenation of the skin around his eyes, which is presently raw and oozing. An unexpected and unwelcome outcome.
The saleswoman was very compassionate--"I used to work for a veterinarian," she told me. She recommended aloe, which I had already planned to buy, and I picked out an eye cream that seemed soothing and rejuvenating, one that I could use when Bruno was through.
It has been a challenging weekend. For one thing, as soon as I finished writing this post, my computer crashed and I am now rewriting it. But more importantly, Bruno is now sporting his second Elizabethan collar because yesterday he managed to crack it into pieces bumping into one too many objects. Then, before we could react, he started pawing his bad eye--the right, brown one that had to be restitched on Thursday when he tore the first stitches pawing at it--and it looked like he had torn the stitches again.
Jay headed to the pet store for a new collar and I began to cry with frustration and a sense of failure. This poor dog's eye looked, frankly, terrible. What have we done, I thought. How can this be good? When will he ever feel better? Do I have what it takes to get him through this? Already Saturday morning I had been to the vet for special food because he had developed a case of the runs. Dr. Clary and I debated painkillers--the really intense narcotic or the less intense, standard post-op painkiller. Now it looked like things were worse.
My minor breakdown alarmed both dogs and they tried to comfort me in their canine way. This only made me started crying again, but I pulled myself together and called Dr. Clary, who told me to come right over, even though the clinic was closed and she was about to leave. The good news was that he hadn't torn his stitches. The bad news was that somehow the laser surgery had burned his eyelids and they were not healing as quickly as they were supposed to. (I remind readers that Dr. Clary did not do the eye surgery. ) She recommended eye cream of the regular over-the-counter type, nonsteroidal.
It's too soon to tell if the creams will work or predict when we can take that cone off, start finding him a home in earnest. It's really hard to think that one day he won't be here anymore, because we are both getting attached. But we can't. For one thing, our cat, Gunther, doesn't like being confined to the second floor. For another, we're on bookseller salaries and our household is all we can afford. (I'm sick of telling myself that over and over, and you're probably tired of it too.)
This morning on her NPR program "Speaking of Faith", Krista Tippett interviewed Katie Payne, an accoustic biologist who has spent her life observing whales and elephants. Katie Payne had many amazing things to say but one stood out in particular. She was talking about elephants' capacity for compassion towards elephants to whom they are not related, but her observation seemed worth thinking about in a larger context. Her words went sort of like this: "Community responsibility, when it's managed well, results in peace. And peace benefits everyone. Taking care of someone or something to which you're not immediately genetically related pays you back in other dimensions and the payback is part of your well being. Compassion is useful and beneficial for all."
I was at the Aveda store. One of the saleswomen seemed horrified and said "that person" should talk to their doctor. The other woman tried to help, talking to me about the various eye creams they carried. When I finally settled on one, I felt bad about her tactful confusion and so I confessed. "It's not for me, really. It's for a dog." I explained about Bruno, about how his corrective eye surgery has had some unwanted results--what should have been a straightforward recovery has turned in to a protracted and complicated effort to alleviate pain, keep him from rubbing his eyelids and speed the rejuvenation of the skin around his eyes, which is presently raw and oozing. An unexpected and unwelcome outcome.
The saleswoman was very compassionate--"I used to work for a veterinarian," she told me. She recommended aloe, which I had already planned to buy, and I picked out an eye cream that seemed soothing and rejuvenating, one that I could use when Bruno was through.
It has been a challenging weekend. For one thing, as soon as I finished writing this post, my computer crashed and I am now rewriting it. But more importantly, Bruno is now sporting his second Elizabethan collar because yesterday he managed to crack it into pieces bumping into one too many objects. Then, before we could react, he started pawing his bad eye--the right, brown one that had to be restitched on Thursday when he tore the first stitches pawing at it--and it looked like he had torn the stitches again.
Jay headed to the pet store for a new collar and I began to cry with frustration and a sense of failure. This poor dog's eye looked, frankly, terrible. What have we done, I thought. How can this be good? When will he ever feel better? Do I have what it takes to get him through this? Already Saturday morning I had been to the vet for special food because he had developed a case of the runs. Dr. Clary and I debated painkillers--the really intense narcotic or the less intense, standard post-op painkiller. Now it looked like things were worse.
My minor breakdown alarmed both dogs and they tried to comfort me in their canine way. This only made me started crying again, but I pulled myself together and called Dr. Clary, who told me to come right over, even though the clinic was closed and she was about to leave. The good news was that he hadn't torn his stitches. The bad news was that somehow the laser surgery had burned his eyelids and they were not healing as quickly as they were supposed to. (I remind readers that Dr. Clary did not do the eye surgery. ) She recommended eye cream of the regular over-the-counter type, nonsteroidal.
It's too soon to tell if the creams will work or predict when we can take that cone off, start finding him a home in earnest. It's really hard to think that one day he won't be here anymore, because we are both getting attached. But we can't. For one thing, our cat, Gunther, doesn't like being confined to the second floor. For another, we're on bookseller salaries and our household is all we can afford. (I'm sick of telling myself that over and over, and you're probably tired of it too.)
This morning on her NPR program "Speaking of Faith", Krista Tippett interviewed Katie Payne, an accoustic biologist who has spent her life observing whales and elephants. Katie Payne had many amazing things to say but one stood out in particular. She was talking about elephants' capacity for compassion towards elephants to whom they are not related, but her observation seemed worth thinking about in a larger context. Her words went sort of like this: "Community responsibility, when it's managed well, results in peace. And peace benefits everyone. Taking care of someone or something to which you're not immediately genetically related pays you back in other dimensions and the payback is part of your well being. Compassion is useful and beneficial for all."
Peace.
2 comments:
It's great that you are helping this dog. I can't do much, but I sent $10 in for him! I think he's a great looking dog, too.
I think it's becoming more and more the case that pro social behavior has survival value. We've taken over the planet. The carnivores aren't gonna get us, but we could manage to do ourselves in.
It's either love one another or do each other in...
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