George’s Christmas 2015
I hate Colic.
In 1996 I lost my then best horsey friend, Mitch, I called in to see him on the way home and less than an hour later my friend was dead. His eyes were bloodshot to the point of bleeding, his gums were white, capillary refill a joke, his resting heart rate over 200, nothing could be done. I didn’t have my own grazing then, by the time I got there he had been in agony for hours. He called out to me when I arrived… “Help I hurt.” The only thing I could do was get a vet and let him put an end to the pain.
Move on a few years and my old horse, Hum, got colic, 28 year old thoroughbred, not a great survival prospect. He had won the Melbourne Cup in 1976 (before I had him), when he died the world was going to want to know. The vet arrives, she was really a cow vet but owns a horse, “I’ve-done-a-course-on-colic-we’re-not-operating”. But his heart rate never went much above 60 and after a day spent in the paddock with Mum helping (in June, it was very cold but thankfully not wet) and a broken nose later, he survived. Even when they are lying down, do not go behind a colicky horse, and don’t lean down to see if they’re sweating up between the back legs!
I’ve also supported three friends with serious colic cases, all died. First and only time I’ve stayed up all night… It wasn’t fun, the horse was in serious pain from 5:30am and the vet didn’t get there until 7 to put her down.
So when my German helper, Susi, said “Look how cute, George is sitting down” I had no comment. George shouldn’t be sitting down at this time of day. He didn’t want food, this is serious! Pawing the ground – ok, this is George so not so odd – shaking his head, a bit odd but he does have a sore eye that has required three vet visits so far (and a recurring hoof abscess, it’s not been a good time to be George recently). I rang Kerry first, always good to talk things through, then got a vet on the way.
First visit, he’s not bad. Got some pain relief, checked gut sounds (little to none), heart rate normal, checked his eye. He’s been on bute twice a day for two weeks for his eye (apparently even though they may not be really sore it helps the eye heal if it is able to relax) so could have ulcers, put on omeprazole. Only a quick visit as she had to be at Mercer soon (an hours drive), but able to keep in text contact.
The meds didn’t last that long, back to lying down a lot, rubbing his head on the ground. We have him on the lawn, Lace is in the paddock over the fence and is clearly worried, she stands as close as she can leaving the fresh grass to Richie. Susi is holding George, I stand with Lace and cuddle her trying not to cry too much. George is a 19 year old SB gelding with arthritis, a great paddock mate, and I’ve had him over 15 years, learnt endurance with him, but no “real” value. I let Lace on to the lawn for a while, she goes over to see George then moves away a bit to eat.
I talk to the vet again, she’ll be back as soon as possible, in the meantime I am to think about options, I say no, surgery not an option. She texts from Huntly, good, not far away. Another text, held up by funeral at Taupiri, at least 20 minutes lost. She arrives, more drugs, pain level surprising given heart rate still normal. We need to get him to stand up so she can tube him, she manages to remove a couple of litres of acid from his stomach. This relieves discomfort, and indicates the intestines aren’t moving much. Not a lot of fluid though so probably not completely blocked – good sign. I find my thermometer, it’s stuck in its case and I have to attack it with heavy scissors, but at least it works! 37.6, normal. We wedge George in between two gates in the cattle yards for a rectal exam – nothing bad there, phew. So again, no real symptoms except the pain. Should we give him fluids? The vet says he’s not that bad. Should get a couple of hours relief from the current pain meds, the vet will be not far away, keep in touch. Sometimes you really do have to love mobile phones and texting.
What do you do with a drugged, sick horse on the lawn and you need to let him rest? Make muffins! It keeps you busy but allows you to keep checking out the window. Only just got them done and he’s starting to get restless again. Text vet, can’t give him more of that pain med for a few hours yet. Crap. She’ll be out again shortly. I start writing down what he’s doing, paw, lie down, rub head, get up, rest for 5 minutes, do it all again. He’s rubbed quite a lot of skin off behind and in front of his ears, we change from a head collar to a rope halter. I ring Kerry, would I like her to come round? Yes please. Susi is great, keeping George walking as much as possible in between periods of letting him rest. It’s getting hard to get him to stand up now though. His temperature is down a bit, 37.0, he feels cool but is sweating a bit, it is a very hot day though.
Kerry arrives, we discuss fluids, a pony she had sold ended up at Massey with colic (vet University hospital), she was to be put down but the vets put her on masses of fluids overnight (without telling the owners as it was such a long shot) and she survived. Endurance horses with colic always get lots of fluids. Kerry rings a local endurance vet, no answer. But she rings back just after the vet arrives, awkward! Should do fluids, nothing to lose. The vet is surprised at how much worse George is, heart rate still low but blood pressure not great, he feels cold. His head rubbing on the ground while lying down has progressed to the point where Kerry says he is officially thrashing. Can we give him fluids? We can hang it from the tree, we do it all the time at endurance rides. The vet is not keen, he would need to be transported to the clinic to give fluids. She doesn’t have enough fluids here, doesn’t have the right tubing to get fluids in fast, and they don’t do it that way. It’s hard to get George back on his feet. Sedation. She tubes him again, about five litres this time.
We agree to take him in to the clinic. He’s really not looking good, what happens if we have to put him down in there? Dead horse in town to deal with two days after Christmas, awesome. We don’t discuss it but it’s another thing to worry about. More drugs. We take the partition out of the float (horse trailer), more room for him to balance, easier to get him out if he falls. I travel in the float with him, the vet leads the way, Kerry drives. Susi stays to feed the other horses, she gives Kerry a container with muffins, good girl! I am to ring the vet if anything happens, but we keep driving even if he goes down as we can’t do anything on the side of the road. Once we’re underway the vet texts that if he gets agitated we can stop and give more meds.
But he’s great, moderately alert and even responds to my voice and a stroke. So no dramas we get there in one piece. It surprises me how long it then takes to get the fluids going. Another rectal exam – lucky George! – still no apparent problems there. A needle into his abdomen from below to check for foreign material, a worry this one, if they find some then he has a rupture and it’s surgery or put down. Nothing, phew! A quick try at ultrasound, even though the machine she has isn’t very good (the good one is out with another vet), we can see a bit of intestine and the fluid in it is moving, encouraging! Then into the stable, first she drains his stomach again, he still has the tube in his nose so that’s a bit easier. Not so much this time but it isn’t so long since it was last done. I can see the benefits of bringing him in to the clinic, everything is right there, they can act on ideas straight away.
The fluids get attached. With a curly tube and bags hanging from the centre of the stable, George can be let go to wander about and hopefully get a bit of rest. There is a camera that the vet can view on her phone, she will give more meds at ten and hang four bags of fluids to last the rest of the night, I will get an update then if nothing happens before. Kerry and I eat muffins on the way home.
Ten o’clock, all ok, fingers crossed.
Just after six next morning. “George has done well overnight. Restless for a few hours but turned a corner about 2am. SuCe then. Has produced a few small piles of faeces. Gut sounds have improved and he’s now been resting, standing quietly for last few hours. HR down to 36, temp 37.6. Looking like we’re out of the woods for now, but will see how he responds to plain fluids with no lidocaine in over the next few hours. Please bring some fresh grass and I see you soon. Thanks.”
What a relief! So Susi and I pick grass and I head on in to see George. He doesn’t understand why he isn’t allowed ALL the grass at once! It turns out the vet stayed there all night, she didn’t even go upstairs to the fold out bed but slept in the padded recovery room with her sleeping bag. Another very good reason to take your horse in to the clinic, if we had stayed at home and given fluids by the tree then none of us, George included, would have got any rest, and the vet would not have been there to give meds if/as required. Would George have survived if we’d tried staying home and doing fluids there? Maybe. He continues to improve and I take him home shortly after midday.
His eye flared up again and so the vet came out once more – check gut sounds – the pupil was very constricted, can we give atropine to dilate it without upsetting his guts? She rings a colleague to consult, try one drop only. She comes back the next morning – in the area, no charge – yes one drop was enough, pupil dilated, guts sounds OK. Administer two types of eye drops 3-4 times a day.
George is over this as much as we are… The lawn took a bit of a hiding, I kept George there for the first few nights so I could check him easily, I fed hay on the worst bits to reseed!
Now we just need his eye to heal and his abscess to not get re-infected. Three weeks into my month off work, it hasn’t been a holiday but I still own six horses. In an email conversation with a non-horsey friend on George’s worst day he asked how many horses I had, I couldn’t reply for a day or so.
