“My leg hurts!” Limp, limp.
“OUCH! Don’t touch!” I settle down in the corner, shielding my bad leg.
Mom eyes me worriedly.
“This has been going on for two weeks.You are going to the vet.”
Finally! What does a dog have to do around here to get some help?
After a couple of Xrays and Mom’s credit card: “This dog has arthritis in his leg. Give him Tramadol as needed for the pain.”
Two weeks later: “Your limp doesn’t look right. I think there is something wrong with your hip. We are going to get a second opinion.”
New vet: “Well, in looking at these Xrays, I don’t understand how your veterinarian missed this. That’s not arthritis. See here? Your dog has a torn
ACL, probably from jumping and playing too rough with the other dogs. He needs a $3500.00 surgery.”
Seriously? NOT ARTHRITIS?? The original vet cannot tell the difference between arthritis and a blown
ACL? MY DOG HAS BEEN IN PAIN FOR A MONTH!!!!
Mom slams credit card down on top of new vet bill.
This scenario happened three years ago. Mom chalked it up to an old country vet not looking clearly at the Xray. But perhaps not!
Fast forward to 2011: Mom’s paw! Same problem, but in reverse: her specialist orthopedic doctor said she needed carpal tunnel surgery. Okay, said she, and scheduled the surgery for May. But a few days later, even with the help of the splint he gave her, she realized that the pain in her paw was not just carpal tunnel syndrome. It was a constant stabbing, shooting pain and she decided to let someone else look at it. So she went her good old fashioned general practitioner she’s been seeing for twenty years. He Xrayed Mom’s paw. He came back into the examining room and said, “You are a very smart woman. You have a broken wrist.”
Probably from playing too rough with the dogs. She’s always turning an ankle or bending some limb the wrong way when she works and plays with us.
Mom is m-a-d as a wet cat. Dad is distraught and wants to punch the orthopedic surgeon. The GP was embarrassed but Mom said she could tell he was enjoying thinking about calling the orthodoc to tell him about his mistake. Today Mom goes to have her paw re-broken (OUCHEEEEE!) so that a cast can be put on it.
One of Mom’s friends at that owl box place thingy said we should break the orthodoc’s wrist and see if he can tell that it is broken. I like that idea, with some added toothy modifications.