The next few days were a bit of a blur: conversations with OSU, letting friends know, calling the family we purchased him from, insurance and bankers, autoposy and cremation. Daniella made me promise to bring him home--a promise I quickly made and immediatly wondered how to get it done. After a conversation with Ohio State they referred me to the folks that do cremations for them. Although I was told to talk to one person and another, OSU eventually agreed to pay for it.
They were going to send me Reiley's halter, shoes, tail and a clay imprint of his hoof. They did, however it said Martini on the imprint instead of Artini or Reiley. Under normal circumstances I'm sure this would have been no big deal, but it seemed catastrophic at the time. I called OSU, asking how I could take the "M" off. After the third person I spoke to asked me if he was euthanized I believe I began to be known there as the "the crazy lady." Fortunately, a great customer of mine took it home with her and the "M' is indeed gone. Thanks, Barb.
On Saturday, three days after Reiley's passing, Daniella was supposed to go to Springfield, Ohio to run for Ohio Quarter Horse Queen. We couldn't decide even on Saturday if she was up to it. I had called the folks in charge to give them the heads up on the possibility of her not being able to come. They have to have dinner with the judges, give an interview, take a test and ride a horsemanship pattern the following day. She hadn't studied since Tuesday, she didn't know if she could get through an interview without crying, she didn't want to see all of her show friends on their healthy horses, she didn't want to talk to anyone or have anyone talk to her, and yet she just couldn't decide to not do it either. Finally we just left for Springfield, knowing we might turn around and go home at any moment. I give her all the credit in the world for going through with it. She did cry at the interview, but she did it. We'll know the results at the Ohio banquet in February.
It's amazing how quickly news travels in our quarter horse world. The support we received in Springfield, at Congress, and throughout Ohio and West Virginia is amazing. The trainers and competitors already knew and as little as we wanted to talk about it, having people cry with us helped to heal us in spite of ourselves. Our thanks to everyone that understood how emotional we were.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Please scroll to the end to read these posts from the beginning
We arrived home around 4:00 am and tried to sleep for an hour or so. Ohio State called around 7:30 to tell us he still was not standing. No one had anticipated any
problems, we were tired and getting very emotional. I had called my insurance company before the surgery started and I called back to update them. I had the wonderful fortune to find on the other end the nicest adjustor of any insurance company that you could encounter. To say my words were understandable would be an exagerration. He was patient, kind, sympathetic and truly took over for us.
My friends and customers started arriving for lessons to find us exhausted and teary.
One by one they joined us on the couch and on the porch, waited for updates and let others know what was going on. We received a call saying they were going to put him in a sling to help him stand if he wasn't up by himself at 1:00. He needed to
get up. They would call in an hour or two to let us know how it went. The time kept passing and we were getting more anxious as it passed 4:00 and 5:00. I had asked if we should come up to be with him before they put Reiley in the sling and was told that sometimes horses would fight the sling and OSU would let us know if it became time for us come up. The later it was the more I wished I had just gone back up to be with him or never to have left at all.
Finally around 6:00 I received a call from an operator at Ohio State, saying to hold for the vet and that I was being recorded. I had my phone on speaker so that my daughter, Daniella, could hear at the same time. We knew already that it was not good since the operator had not been the one to call at any other time, but when the vet came on we let out our breaths with relief when she came on with a cheerful voice. Our relief was very short lived when she continued to tell us Reiley had passed. I know that telling someone this kind of news must be horrible, but for the life of me I can't understand where the cheerful, "Hi, Marti" came from. Daniella started screaming and I know the vet could hear her. She attempted to tell us what had happened to Reiley and finally just asked if we wanted to call her back and I hung up.
For Dani's sake I have to skip the next hour. I don't know how long she laid on the bed crying and I can't repeat most of what came out of her. The one line I can never get out of my head is "I've lost my best friend, I've lost my best friend" over and over. Finally I left her in her friend's arms and went on the porch to call them back and get the details. My friends were waiting out there for me and I put them on speaker phone in case I wasn't able to talk to them.
I was told he was a good boy in the sling, cooperative and trying, although having a hard time supporting himself and they had to give him breaks and let him try again. Here, I will quote medical records, "4:00 pm-Martini [as they refer to him, it says Artini on his papers] was lowered from the sling and reattached MLK CRI for pain and IV fluids. His other medications (Naxcel and Acepromazine) were also admininstered. During this time there was an error in administration of MLK (which was administered on a fluid pump for safety) and an overdose of the MLK was given. As soon as the error was noted reversal agents and resuscitation methods (epinephrine, naxolone, nasotracheal intubation and administration of oxygen with a demand valve, and chest compressin) were intiated. Unfortunately, he could not be revived. It is still unknown how or if the pump malfuctioned and testing is being conducted." On a side note I was told that before the overdose he had never given up or stopped trying.
problems, we were tired and getting very emotional. I had called my insurance company before the surgery started and I called back to update them. I had the wonderful fortune to find on the other end the nicest adjustor of any insurance company that you could encounter. To say my words were understandable would be an exagerration. He was patient, kind, sympathetic and truly took over for us.
My friends and customers started arriving for lessons to find us exhausted and teary.
One by one they joined us on the couch and on the porch, waited for updates and let others know what was going on. We received a call saying they were going to put him in a sling to help him stand if he wasn't up by himself at 1:00. He needed to
get up. They would call in an hour or two to let us know how it went. The time kept passing and we were getting more anxious as it passed 4:00 and 5:00. I had asked if we should come up to be with him before they put Reiley in the sling and was told that sometimes horses would fight the sling and OSU would let us know if it became time for us come up. The later it was the more I wished I had just gone back up to be with him or never to have left at all.
Finally around 6:00 I received a call from an operator at Ohio State, saying to hold for the vet and that I was being recorded. I had my phone on speaker so that my daughter, Daniella, could hear at the same time. We knew already that it was not good since the operator had not been the one to call at any other time, but when the vet came on we let out our breaths with relief when she came on with a cheerful voice. Our relief was very short lived when she continued to tell us Reiley had passed. I know that telling someone this kind of news must be horrible, but for the life of me I can't understand where the cheerful, "Hi, Marti" came from. Daniella started screaming and I know the vet could hear her. She attempted to tell us what had happened to Reiley and finally just asked if we wanted to call her back and I hung up.
For Dani's sake I have to skip the next hour. I don't know how long she laid on the bed crying and I can't repeat most of what came out of her. The one line I can never get out of my head is "I've lost my best friend, I've lost my best friend" over and over. Finally I left her in her friend's arms and went on the porch to call them back and get the details. My friends were waiting out there for me and I put them on speaker phone in case I wasn't able to talk to them.
I was told he was a good boy in the sling, cooperative and trying, although having a hard time supporting himself and they had to give him breaks and let him try again. Here, I will quote medical records, "4:00 pm-Martini [as they refer to him, it says Artini on his papers] was lowered from the sling and reattached MLK CRI for pain and IV fluids. His other medications (Naxcel and Acepromazine) were also admininstered. During this time there was an error in administration of MLK (which was administered on a fluid pump for safety) and an overdose of the MLK was given. As soon as the error was noted reversal agents and resuscitation methods (epinephrine, naxolone, nasotracheal intubation and administration of oxygen with a demand valve, and chest compressin) were intiated. Unfortunately, he could not be revived. It is still unknown how or if the pump malfuctioned and testing is being conducted." On a side note I was told that before the overdose he had never given up or stopped trying.
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