Don't put off that exam (7/11/05)

Our veterinarian has quick reflexes. I found this out because it was time for Gracie’s annual check up last week. She meowed the entire way there but made no attempt to get out of my lap. Once we settled into the waiting room she decided it was prudent to hide her head under my arm after one of the resident cats hissed at her. She probably thought it was safer to cower than fight back.

Her personality abruptly changed once we got into the examining room. I placed her on the table and petted her. She hissed and fussed before making a lunge for the vet. He hadn’t even touched her yet. She squirmed and tried to escape once he finally began the examination but at least she quit trying to bite him. He pronounced her healthy, gave her a booster shot and sent us on our way. I sure am glad we go there only once a year.

I firmly believe in these annual visits. I believe that pet ownership demands that we do everything we can do to keep them safe and healthy. I know people who maintain that the yearly visit is traumatic and unnecessary for an animal that is kept indoors. I disagree. Animals get out unexpectedly no matter how closely we watch over them. Things can go wrong with a pet through no fault of our own. It’s best to catch things early while they can be treated than wait until it is too late to do anything except watch them die.

I also believe in preventative measures for the people I love. I go for my own yearly check-ups and never try to bite the doctor or hiss at him, although I have managed a yelp on occasion.

I’m currently worried about my little brother. He had a stroke at the end of June. He was extremely lucky that it was a mild one that left him with no discernible damage.

I am hoping against hope that he changes his diet, loses weight, figures out a way to have less stress in his life and generally does whatever the doctors tell him to do. I also recognize the irony in the fact that I am eating M&M’s while I am writing this.

Heart disease runs in our family. As a matter of fact, I don’t know of any relative older than I am who hasn’t had some sort of heart problem. Most of them have or have had high blood pressure, heart attacks or various other problems. My only living uncle has a pacemaker. The only cousin I have seen in the last ten years has high blood pressure. I’ve lost track of the rest of them.

So I have good cause to worry. It doesn’t help anything to know that my brother went into the hospital on a Monday and none of us found out until late Tuesday evening. The excuse was that he didn’t want us to worry. That’s the poorest excuse in the world. Families always worry. So now we worry that he isn’t telling us everything.

It is much easier to keep a pet healthy than a brother. I can control what Gracie eats and can coax her to exercise with the aid of a feather on a stick or a rousing game of fetch. I haven’t been able to control my brother since he was two years old. All I can do is hope that the stroke was enough of a scare to make him take better care of himself.

After all, we both watched while a series of strokes changed my diabetic grandmother from a strong, capable woman into a pitiful little old lady who couldn’t even get out of bed by herself. We watched while strokes took her speech and eventually her life.

I don’t ever again want to write the words, “my brother had a stroke.” I want better for my brother. I want him to heed this warning and do whatever he needs to do to live a long and healthy life. I want him to take care of himself. I trust he will never try to bite his doctor and I vow to keep a better hold on Gracie this time next year so that she doesn’t try to take a piece out of the vet.

As the old saying goes, “an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”

[[In-content Ad]]