Harrison had another seizure this morning, so it looks like even with his most recent med zonisamide being added he’s still on his every 3-4 days seizure pattern. We almost discounted the last 2 seizures whilst we waited for the drug to take effect (5 days, apparently), but today’s event confirms our worst fears really. However, we could blame it on the clocks changing etc, but we know we’re kidding ourselves.
So we have about 2-3 weeks of food and medication left and we know we’ll need to reduce his phenobarbitone anyway due to his levels being too high at the moment. If his seizure frequency or severity increases a lot as a result of that then we know we have to act quickly, otherwise we just have to carry on as we are until we know the time is right. I don’t think it will be very long, unfortunately.
Feeling very sad and hopeless now, I wish there was something more we could do, but we have tried everything it seems and nothing is helping, so don’t want to run the risk of doing anything which is unfair or cruel, or just prolonging the inevitable any further.
So, like many of us dog owners, I wear my heart right on my sleeve and Harrison is my whole world (aside from my better half, of course!)
To learn he has epilepsy and see him endure these seizures again and again is the kind of thing I wouldn’t wish on anyone, dog owner or beloved dog. It is truly horrific! Worst of all, I feel an overwhelming sadness for my oblivious little pooch, who aside from those terrible phases immediately before and after a seizure (during which he is absolutely terrified and I am just heartbroken) is perfectly happy and his usual self. I wish I could explain to him, make him understand that the awful feeling will pass and that he’s safe and we’re there and we’ll do all we can to help him whatever happens. But I can’t and that’s one of the worst things. If he was my child I might be able to explain when he reached a certain age, it might not make it any less scary but it would be worth a go.
The best thing is that the seizure itself he is unconscious and has no idea what’s happening – thank goodness! This part is worse for us, having to witness that and feel so helpless.
Continue reading “The ’emotional wreck’ stage”