by Abby Deuel
“Perfect.”
“Write down your name and contact details on this form here. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow to give you a better idea of what we’re looking at, Mr. Butler,” said Mandy, looking down at the sheet as the man filled it out.
“Thanks. I’ll head back to the O’Mally farm and wait for your call,” said Mr. Butler.
Mandy locked the clinic door behind Mr. Butler. The snow was falling steadily, collecting in puffs on anything that protruded from the ground. Mandy sighed, enjoying the peaceful scene out the window. She couldn’t bask in its beauty long as she needed to get the pup on fluids before his dehydration worsened. Not knowing whether the pup did indeed have parvo, she would treat him as if he did, sanitizing everything he touched and keeping him in isolation.
His tiny little veins proved slightly tricky to get a catheter in. Gillian arrived to give Mandy a hand and they finally got one in his front left leg so they could run fluids and medications into the failing pup. He had run out of energy and was not putting up a fight at all, a sure sign that his owner made the right decision to bring him in despite the unfriendly driving weather. Mandy got him settled in an isolation cage next to the other one, adding more than just anti-emetics to his bag of fluid. She had a hunch that this was parvo and she didn’t want to find out the hard way by having a rapidly failing puppy on her hands.
Parvo is a virus that attacks mainly young pups, causing a slow, painful death via starvation and dehydration. It destroys the lining of their intestines, preventing any absorption of nutrients as their body goes under full attack from the virus-induced vomiting and diarrhea. Treatment is mainly supportive and the prognosis is guarded if the animal is already very weak. Mandy had seen many cases of parvo during her time as an emergency veterinarian. Unfortunately, the cost of treatment was prohibitive for many clients. This results in people choosing to euthanize before even trying to treat.
In Gander’s case, the owner had full understanding of the road ahead. It would take a while before the medicines that Mandy gave started to show any improvement for the pup. In the meantime, Mandy decided to stay at the clinic instead of making the trek home for the night. She sent Gillian home so she could be with Hamish for the night. Mandy could go home in the morning to check on the farm animals once Gillian came in to take over watching the patients.
Mandy took the opportunity to read a few more of the journals to find more clues about why anyone would want Phil murdered. Why would anyone pick on a loner with no real ties to anyone?
Chapter 32
Mandy woke up to the phone ringing. She glanced at the clock on the way to the phone. It was not even six in the morning yet.
“Hello?” asked Mandy, questioning whether the phone call was a dream or in fact a cruel version of reality.
“I figured I would catch you there. I saw you stayed over night on my patrol through the night to watch for anybody having trouble with this weather. I figured you’d want a wake up call to have time to go home before the clinic opened. How’s the pup?” asked Gerry.
“He’s getting there. We got another one last night, too. The fluids are helping. You really do have your finger on the pulse around here,” said Mandy, yawning. Luckily she was on the walk-around phone so she could make herself some coffee while she talked to Gerry. She saw out the window that there had been an accumulation of at least six inches of snow overnight.
“Great news. We have more information,” said Gerry, ignoring Mandy’s playful dig at his thoroughness. “The review of the post mortem revealed that it was not an aneurysm that killed him. They are now saying that the findings suggest an allergic reaction to something. I have to admit that I couldn’t follow everything they said. I’ll fax over the written report for you to make more sense of.”
“Perfect. I’ll look out for it,” said Mandy.
“They wouldn’t have pursued more on this case without my prodding. Technically, it was your research that gave us the new direction. Sadly, a John Doe doesn’t require that anyone go above and beyond,” said Gerry.
“It isn’t the proudest moment for the crime division. It doesn’t matter. We can give the poor guy a decent ending,” said Mandy.
“That’s the plan anyway,” said Gerry. “Need me to do your farm chores for you?”
“Gillian is just headed in to take over on the puppies so I can check the animals at home. Thank you, though. It would be nice to get a change of clothes, too. It oughta be pretty quiet today due to the weather,” said Mandy.
“Maybe we can catch up over some lunch. They normally put some soul-warming soup on at the Inn. I can pick some up for us and bring it there,” said Gerry.
“That’d be wonderful. We can compare notes. I gotta go so I can be back in. Looks like it’ll take twice as long on the roads,” said Mandy.
“Be very careful. There are some spots of black ice already. This is the kind of weather that can trick you into thinking all is well until you slide right off the road,” said Gerry.
“I’ll take my time. There’s no reason to push the limits today,” said Mandy. “Talk to you later.”
Mandy glanced at the door to see Gillian coming inside bundled up from head to toe.
“Of all the days for the heat in my truck to play up,” said Gillian. “It’s a cold drive out there.” She started to unwrap her body, starting with the two scarves around her neck.
“Yep. That wouldn’t be much fun at all. Can you leave it at the shop for them to fix it? They are predicting even more snow as the days go by. I don’t want you to be without heat in your vehicle,” said Mandy.
“I’ll give them a call down there as soon as they’re open. You head on so you can get your house chores down. Anything special I need to know about the pups?” asked Gillian.
“Not really. They seem to be pretty typical parvo cases. The fluids are running well at the moment. I just gave the injections so they won’t need anything for another four hours,” said Mandy.
“I’ll man the fort. Be safe,” said Gillian.
“Can you give the pointer club the heads up that Neptune is out of the picture and they have parvo in their midst?” asked Mandy.
“Sure thing. That’s all we need. A blizzard and almost a hundred dogs with parvo,” said Gillian.
“It could be an interesting couple of days,” said Mandy.
Mandy headed out the door, opting to leave the dogs at the clinic where they would be warm and content. They had a frozen peanut butter treat to keep them occupied for a few minutes anyway. On the road, Mandy was pleasantly surprised that some of the streets had already been cleared of snow, making the beginning of her trip slightly easier. Adam, who ran the excavating business in town, also plowed the roads with his big machinery. He was parked on the side of the road when she passed the last street in town before heading out to the country. He had his mini helper, Zachary, with him. She beeped to say hi and they waved back. The snow had not been on the ground long enough to lose its pristine whiteness. Snow had a way of making any town look worthy of a Norman Rockwell painting. Crestview, Mandy thought, was worthy of that home-town feel even without the snow.
She arrived back at the farm to find that everything was just fine. The water tanks had not frozen; the fences were still functioning; the power was on. Mandy was pleased that this trip was not full of surprises like most things that she had tried to do lately. Once the sheep and chickens were squared away, Mandy went inside to get a fresh change of clothes. She packed an overnight bag just in case. Though she would need to check on the farm, it would be handy to have a spare set of clothes in her Jeep in case she ever got stranded on the road. Her grandma had always told her, ‘an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure’ and this was a great time to put the wisdom to use.
Mandy drove back into town, stopping to fill up her gas tank. She added in some fuel stabilizer, thinking it best to cover all of the bases. That reminded her that Gillian would need her help getting her vehicle into for repairs on th
e heater. The sooner, the better, thought Mandy, for Gillian’s sake, so she headed back to the clinic.
Back at the clinic, there were no other vehicles in the lot besides Gillian’s. Mandy was glad to see that people were choosing safety over bringing their animals to the vet. She stayed in her Jeep just long enough to catch the on the hour weather forecast. They were calling for more snow with blizzard-like conditions. They were advising everyone to cease non-essential travel and have plenty of emergency food on hand. They made it sound like a doomsday prepper’s dream come true. Mandy knew better than to panic but she also had a deep respect for Mother Nature’s whims.
Inside the clinic, Mandy found Gillian brushing Emma and Jimbo, who were purring and drooling with delight. Jimbo had flipped over to show his completely white belly while Emma was rubbing the sides of her face against the counter top.
“We never get to spoil them like this. Things are normally so busy,” said Gillian.
“Achoo,” said Mandy, followed by another “achoo.”
“Bless you,” said Gillian.
“Achoo, achoo, achoo.”
“Now might not be a good time to mention that, while you were out, I admitted a Himalayan named Oscar who has a breathing problem,” said Gillian.
“Achoo, achoo,” said Mandy.
“Maybe we should get you some allergy medication,” said Gillian.
“I’ll be alright. Let’s check out the new patient. Achoo. That could be, achoo, serious,” said Mandy. “It really is silly for a vet to be allergic to cats, achoo.”
“Too right you are,” said Gillian.
They stepped into the exam room where a gorgeous chocolate point Himalayan was snuggled inside a custom-made portable cat carrier. It was breathing with such effort that each inhale could be heard from across the room. He was sitting in a decidedly orthopneic position so as to gain as much oxygen with each breath. Gillian gently removed the cat from the carrier to give Mandy the chance to examine him without stirring up more cat dander.
“Achoo, achoo, achoo. I don’t know what’s got into me. I am allergic to cats but I haven’t had this much trouble in a very long time,” said Mandy. She was using her stethoscope to listen to the heart and lungs of Oscar, concentrating deeply to ensure she didn’t miss any clues. She examined the rest of Oscar’s body, taking care to keep him as calm as possible.
“Maybe it’s because we have the clinic all closed up tight and the heat on. This far, we have had the windows open since you’ve been here,” said Gillian.
“That could be it, achoo. Let’s get Oscar sorted out and then I will take some medicine or at least get some fresh air. We need to x-ray his chest carefully. He is stable but I don’t want to stress him out,” said Mandy.
Gillian cradled him in her arms like a live bomb as they went back to the imaging room. They donned their lead aprons and placed Oscar on the table in a sitting position with his chest to the table. Once they could see the first x-ray, they would know if he could be safely placed on his side or not. Mandy held the cat while Gillian went to the processing room. Gillian returned with the fresh film and placed it on the viewer.
“Achoo. Oh dear. That is what I was hoping it wasn’t. It looks like we have so much pleural effusion that we need to drain his chest of some fluid before we can get a better image of his lungs. Achoo. Plus, it’ll help us figure out what kind of fluid is in the chest. Achoo. I wish we could get a baseline on some bloodwork first but there is no way we can get blood out to the lab in this weather. Achoo. It is becoming more and more apparent that we need to buy our own lab equipment to get this practice into the twenty-first century. We should look at ultrasound machines while we are at it. Achoo. Let’s go to the surgery so we can give oxygen if we need to. Achoo,” said Mandy.
The surgery was only around the corner so Oscar didn’t have to wait too long for relief. They made him as comfortable as possible. Mandy shaved a large patch of fur around the area where she would be inserting the needle. She tried to keep the fur away from her face but she couldn’t hold back a sneeze that blew fur up into the air and up toward her face, resulting in more sneezing. Once she stopped sneezing long enough to focus, she reached behind her to get a surgical mask to wear.
“This might help me get through this procedure in one piece. Achoo. Plus, it’ll protect the cat from my germs,” said Mandy. Gillian winked at her in agreement.
Mandy proceeded to scrub the shaved area with disinfectant. She placed a bolus of local anesthetic where she would be inserting the needle before scrubbing one last time. While she assembled the rest of the drain mechanism, made of a butterfly needle, an IV extension set, and a three-way tap, the local had enough time to numb the area. Mandy inserted the needle at a 45-degree angle to the chest wall. Oscar didn’t even flinch. Mandy started to apply suction to the syringe. The line immediately filled with straw-colored liquid.
“Bingo. Achoo. That’s what I was hoping for. Achoo,” said Mandy. She continued to drain Oscar’s chest until the syringe no longer pulled any fluid out. “We better drain the other side now,” said Mandy, starting to cough. Suddenly, she couldn’t stop coughing nor could she catch her breath. She ripped her mask off and Gillian could see that her face was turning blue. She was grabbing at her throat with a look of terror in her eyes.
Chapter 33
“What on earth?” screamed Gillian. An ambulance would never get to the clinic in time to help Mandy. Gillian had to think fast on her feet. She let herself have that one outburst of fear before quickly changing gears to be calm, cool, and collected. Mandy, meanwhile was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. Gillian pulled a chair over, plopped Mandy down, and took the oxygen tube from Oscar to place over Mandy’s face. Oscar was much more stable with half of the fluid off of his chest.
“Breathe, if you can. I want you to try to stay calm. Focus on my voice,” Gillian said, while reaching back to the drug box behind them. “Everything will be OK. Just keep trying to breathe,” said Gillian. Mandy’s face was breaking out in hives right before their eyes. Mandy was spending her energy between trying to get oxygen, trying not to fall off the chair, and clawing at her neck with her hands.
Gillian found what she was looking for, drew up the appropriate amount and approached Mandy.
“Hold still. I’m just going to inject you in your thigh. It’ll only hurt a second,” said Gillian, stabbing Mandy’s upper leg with a needle containing epinephrine. Immediately, Mandy’s airway started to open and she could get little breaths in. The horror in her face was diminishing and in its place was a look of total exhaustion. Gillian had gone into nurse mode. She was checking Mandy’s pulse, listening to her heart and lungs with the stethoscope, and checking her capillary refill time on her fingers. “We are out of the woods. Are you breathing OK now?” asked Gillian.
“Getting there,” said Mandy, through a wispy voice. She was pulling air from the oxygen tube much better after the epinephrine shot. She kept taking breaks to give Oscar a whiff of the pure oxygen. “I know how you feel, pal. It is not fun to not be able to breathe,” said Mandy.
“Do you want me to call 911?” asked Gillian.
“Absolutely not. There might be someone out there who really needs them. I don’t want them to have to travel in conditions like this for simple anaphylaxis,” said Mandy.
“There’s the doc we know and love. Glad you’re back. Now that it’s over, can I just say, that was really scary,” said Gillian.
“I completely agree. I have never done that before. I bet my immune system is down from the whole coma ordeal,” said Mandy.
“That would make perfect sense,” said Gillian. “What else do we need to give you?”
“I’d like to take a steroid pill to keep my airways opened up. Can you grab me a 20 mg prednisone?” asked Mandy.
“Are you aiding and abetting a junkie?” asked Gerry, walking through the surgery. “Oh, jeez. I didn’t realize what was happening here. What just happened?”
“You missed
the fun stuff. I went into anaphylaxis from cat dander. Gillian here just saved my life,” said Mandy.
“Good grief. Are you OK?” asked Gerry. “You don’t look so good. Do you want to rain check on lunch?” asked Gerry.
“Gee, thanks. That’s very flattering. Nah, I will be OK. I have to eat anyway, right? The steroids will help with the hives. I can’t very well go home and give up for the day. I still have to drain the other side of this cat’s chest, take more x-rays and get him some meds to help him out. And we need to discharge some of these patients before they get trapped here in the blizzard,” said Mandy.
Gillian and Gerry exchanged looks of surprise.
“You do realize that you almost just died,” said Gillian.
“That happened a few weeks ago too. It might happen again next week at the rate things go around here. I’m tired of sitting around. I want to keep going with my life. Are you in or out?” asked Mandy. It was hard for Gerry and Gillian to take Mandy seriously since there were hives surfacing on every exposed skin. She looked more like a Marybel doll from the fifties with measles rather than a vet fit to do more work. “Honestly, I’m fine, or I will be. Let’s get moving.”
Gerry was the first to take the hint. “I’ll go pick up lunch and be right back.”
“Let’s finish up with the cat while he’s gone Then we can work through the patients and see who can go home,” said Gillian.
“No we’re talking,” said Mandy.
Chapter 34
Mandy and Gillian set to work draining the other side of the Himalayan’s chest, providing him with much needed relief. Draining the first side had already improved his demeanor such that he did not want to sit as still for the second phase of his treatment. They finally got a needle where the fluid was and proceeded to drain off more fluid than had been present in the first side of his chest.