Ellyn

2/13/06

Hello Everyone!!!!

It's Helen. I'm back. I took some time off. Writing just became tough and it gave me headaches from all the thinking about what to write. I would just lie on the couch and think forever and could not do anything. And I got anxious, my palms were sweaty and I couldn't stand the stress. Let's face it, I had writer's block. At one point, I thought I would need to go into therapy, maybe with this Doctor Fraud I heard about. Well, I don't know what or how, but something did help and I'm back ready to resume my Chronicles.

I would like to call them Insights Into a Dog's Life. Or The World Through the Nose. Or What Were Those Humans Thinking?! Well, I'll have to give it some thought. I will give you an example so you'll see what I mean.

Me, Juliet and Gelo have recently been talking a lot about this thing called "housebreaking." We heard my foster mommy say that people always want housebroken dogs. She seemed upset about it and we understand why. That is really silly. People are very funny creatures. Because, you see, one day Juliet opened the doors to the buffet in the dining room and pulled out a bag of chocolate covered gingerbread cookies to eat them, and she broke a pitcher and a bowl and our mommy was not at all happy. Really not at all. And Juliet sort of knew because I heard my foster mommy say, "Juliet, don't hide in your bed, you little beast. Look what you did! You better not get sick." Oooh and she even called Juliet a bad girl. But I don't think Juliet is bad. She plays with me and lets me lick her tummy. I like her A LOT.

So Juliet did some housebreaking and we don't understand why other people want a housebreaking dog. We think they should talk to our mommy and daddy and they will tell them to just want a dog. Best of all one that is not housebroken because that's a real problem. So we've been talking about that and we're trying very hard not to be housebroken. Gelo and I are doing very well, but Juliet sometimes forgets and breaks the house some. Just some. Not a lot. But our mommy does sometimes get upset.

Well, actually, Gelo did break the house just once. See, he likes reading books because he's smart like that. Juliet told me he has a big head and plenty of room in there for storing letters and things to know. So he found a book, but he said he didn't like it so he taught it a small lesson. And our big sister got very angry at him. She said he did a bad thing because it was a very old book and he should not touch it.

Sometimes we play and we run a lot. Even I run in circles though I can't see where I'm going and if there are things in my way I bump into them. This happened just the other day. I ran into the vacuum cleaner! And yes, we make a big mess with the rugs and shoes and all, but we try very hard not to break anything.

So why do people want a dog that would break their house? We just can't understand. My mommy says she thinks they're lazy people. But I really think she's wrong. You see, if they have to put everything back in place and make repairs and things like that they're actually looking for work, right? So how can they be lazy?

Like I said, humans can be very difficult to understand. But we still love them. We love our mommy and daddy and sisters very much. That's why we're trying very hard not to do any housebreaking.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone. Please remember to hug your beagle!

Helen

Please meet Helen, the little beagle who is carrying a big load of suffering on her tiny frame and who still finds it in herself to wag her tail, greet her fosters and try to play with her foster siblings.

Helen came to Beagle Maryland on Wednesday, August 3. Some people believe in guardian angels and some don't, but we're convinced that Helen's guardian angel, who took a long break (AWOL?), returned just in time to allow this little beagle to come to us.

When Helen made it into our rescue, she looked very pregnant. This, in fact, is an understatement. She looked as if she had swallowed a watermelon whose weight was pulling her skin off her tiny bones. But Helen could not have been pregnant since she had been spayed earlier in the year. So something else was going on… But what?

To make matters worse, Helen is blind in both eyes. Her right eye has a white coating on it, while the other one appears normal. Still, she simply cannot see.

These last months, she had been living outside and the garage served as her home. It was time to bring Helen in and provide her with the care that she so badly needed.

These are the most recent developments in Helen's life:

   Before fluid tapped off her tummy pictures.

Friday, August 5: Helen was driven from La Plata, MD to Oxon Hill, MD, where she is picked up by her new foster and dropped off at a Maryland animal hospital. On the way there, she was very anxious and panting – she does not like riding in the car and is visibly scared. The diagnosis came later in the day: Helen suffers from the advanced stage of heartworm disease. There is so much fluid build-up in her abdominal cavity that the X-rays do not properly show the internal organs. It appears that there is little hope left for her.

But we're stubborn. Not only that – our hearts go out to this little girl and we decide that she deserves something more. That evening, in Virginia, arrangements are made to take her to another animal hospital the following day.

Saturday, August 6: Poor Helen drags her belly and explores her new house. Ever so gingerly she walks up to objects, checks them out with her little nose and learns the layout of her surroundings. Very quickly, she learns to find her bed and likes spending time in it. She has the kitchen and the bowls figured out. But the cats… that's something else. She sticks her nose into their fur and can't get over them. The resident geriatric cat does not like this nose-prodding and hisses. The young Himalayan thinks this is fun and watches Helen with her huge eyes. The resident beagles are more interested in finding out why Helen gets more food than they do.

Helen spends the afternoon and the evening at the clinic. To alleviate the pressure in her abdomen, they tap the liquid and drain about half a gallon! Helen's weight immediately drops by nearly five pounds. We are told that the procedure is risky given the advanced stage of the disease. Still, not all hope is lost since some of the test results are better than expected. Yet we all know that the heartworm treatment can be fatal to her. We decide to proceed with the treatment.

Helen comes back home with a diuretic to be taken two times a day and a "six-pack" of special high-protein food. She needs to fill out as much as possible before treatment begins. She is skin and bones right now since much of the nutrients from her food went into the fluid that filled her abdominal cavity and which could not be properly evacuated because of diminished heart function.

On Tuesday, August 9, Helen will go into the clinic for the first stage of treatment. She will spend the night there, under observation. Please think about her, pray for her, burn incense or sing a song. This little dog deserves all the help she can get.

We will keep you posted.

Let Helen be the poster-dog for all those dogs – "man's best friend" – that suffer from the negligence and lack of understanding by us, the humans. No, Helen is not a laboratory dog, she has not suffered physical abuse or been purposefully neglected. Yet the illness that is draining her life away is preventable and, had her previous owners asked the right questions and been better informed, she would not have to go through so much pain.

Let her also be the poster-dog for all those creatures that suffer and yet do not complain, do not lash out at others and can show love and faith to the last breath. Some go through life knowing only pain and spite, yet they can still see something beautiful in us.

This photo AFTER FIVE pounds of fluid tapped off from her tummy.

Monday, August 8:  Helen, it appears, has never been a house dog.  Many sounds puzzle her, and with her ears held high, she cocks her little head and listens in amazement.  It's obvious that she's trying to figure out what the sound means.  This morning she came upstairs on her own and explored one of the rooms.  She takes her time and goes about learning about her surroundings very gingerly.  In fact, Helen sometimes appears almost cat-like.

Outdoors, she's afraid of cars passing on the road, so our walks are always away from the street.  We have also noticed that she appears to like sidewalks.  Could it be the way they feel under her paws?

Our male beagle, Angelo, feels iffy about our fosters.  He has developed a set of funny habits, like sleeping in the living room on his special pillow on the sofa.  Now that Helen is here and the stairs into the living room are blocked so that she does not fall down, he's frustrated about the change.  This morning, for the first time since we've had him, he engaged in some destructive behavior.  In other words, he decided to "read" a book printed in 1899.  Considering the state of the cover, we think he didn't like it very much.  Juliet, our female, usually takes her frustration out on the fosters by playing very rough with them and showing them who's boss.  She can't figure out why Helen doesn't follow her on crazy chases around the dining room table - our personal hippodrome.  So she tries to engage Helen in games of tug-of-war.  In fact, Helen responds very well and enjoys playing.  Her tail wags a mile a minute and she's very obviously happy.  But her games are stationary.  It's more mouthing, gentle ear-tugging and grabbing of legs.  So Juliet settles for that, but usually winds up running around the table and bumping into Helen!  Usually, to draw Juliet away, we wind up playing with her.  Well, some people to to the gym, right?

Tomorrow Helen will be going in for her first heartworm treatment.  Over the last two days we have been feeding her huge amounts of protein rich food to put some "meat" on her bones and build up her resistance.  We're very nervous about the treatment and know that the trip to the animal hospital will be difficult.  And leaving her there will be even more difficult.  Especially since she has bonded very well and gives a whole show when we come back from work.  There's barking, howling and prancing.  Oh, and kissing.

Wednesday, August 10:  Helen is back home!  She's sitting in her crate and we don't think she's happy.  She wanted to explore and make sure that she was back home, but we were told she needed strict and complete rest, so off to the crate she went.  She scratched and scratched to get out...well, that's tiring and potentially dangerous, so we let her out and tried to get her to lie down in her regular bed.  That was not what Helen had in mind.  So we put her back in the crate.  But let's start from the beginning...

Yesterday, Tuesday, Helen went to the hospital early in the morning.  She shook all the way there and appeared very nervous.  Knowing what lies ahead and being aware of the risks, we were even more nervous.  As the vet tech took her away, I gave her a hug and kissed her little face.  "Good luck, Helen.  hang on in there.  You're in good hands and we're all thinking about you, sweet girl."  She did not want to go in and the tech had to carry her.

It was very difficult to work that day - we were waiting for the vet's phone call.  It takes a lot of willpower not to be calling all the time and bugging the hospital.  Finally, early in the afternoon, the vet called to let us know that one of the tests that was done on Saturday and sent away to a specialized lab did not show any microfilaria in the blood.  That, they thought was unusual given that Helen was in an advanced stage of the disease.  In the meantime, I educated myself.  This is what I read (www.thepetcenter.com):  Microfilaria - This is the name given to the microscopic, snake-like prelarval stages of the Filaroidea worm in the blood of man and animals and in the tissues of the vector.  Microfilaria are the offspring of adult heartworm reproduction.

Yuck.  This whole illness is just somehow disgusting - to have worms lodged in a heart ventricle just sounds awful.  The heart, this smooth muscle once believed to be the seat of all emotions.  We still use it as the symbol for love.  And to have worms living in there and reproducing?    Still...why did Helen not have any microfilaria in her blood?

Once again, we discussed the issue of her cardiac function.  Is the fluid retention due solely to heart problems caused by the worms, or is there another underlying problem?  We agreed that she should have a cardiac sonogram and that treatment should proceed.  Later that day, at around 5:00 p.m., Helen got her first injection.  The vet called late in the evening to let us know that Helen was doing well and resting.  All that evening and night we were waiting for the phone call announcing that things had deteriorated.  That call never came.  This was the ultimate case of "No news is good news!"

Finally, around 2:00 today I spoke with a vet tech.  "Helen's doing very well," she said.  "In fact, she's doing great!"  YESSSSS!  Whew.  Bring out the champagne, the balloons and all that!  Well, maybe not yet.  We have to be reasonable.  The coming days will be critical and Helen is by no means out of the woods.  We'll hold off on the champagne.  We'll let it sit.

Helen had her cardiac sonogram today.  It showed the presence of Fred and his buddies.  Fred is one of the worms in Helen's heart and was named thus by the clinic's personnel.  Yes, we're working on wringing Fred's neck.  There was no obvious sign of any other underlying cardiac problem.  Still, that does not necessarily mean Helen's problem-free in that area. Just like with human medicine, veterinary medicine does not always have straight answers.  It's only sensational television reports about new cures and diagnostic tests that make things appear simple and clear-cut.  In real life there's no magic, but a lot of probabilities, "what ifs," pros and cons, decisions, decisions...  Nothing is simple and surprises abound.  Like the recurring issues of absent microfilaria.  It could be a case of single-sex worms.  That obviously precludes reproduction.  But given the advanced (third) stage of Helen's illness, this is not probable.  So we still don't know the answer.  And maybe there is another cardiac problem - we will have to wait and see about those pesky fluids.

For now, Helen's back home resting.  We have to make sure that she rests as much as possible.  No horsing around - although how can a blind dog run around the house?  So the crate will be Helen's new home inside the home for the next four weeks.  We're on the lookout for "ADR" or "ain't doin' right" and we were told to call immediately if anything bothers us or if Helen behaves in an unusual manner.  Fred can still wreak havoc.  He's a nasty mean thing.  We'll get very personal with him.  He has no idea what he's up against!

Friday, August 12:  Helen's not a very obedient patient.  She insists on living her day outside of the crate, which is fine when somebody's there with her.  she's intent on exploring her surroundings while we cringe in fear at every move she makes.  All the stairs are blocked off with boxes, hampers and whatever bulky heavy objects we can get our hands on.  In other words - the house looks like we're in a state of siege.  Barricades everywhere.  Angelo, who "lives" in the sunken living room, is disoriented by this since he can't jump over the barrier to roam through the rest of the house.  So he'll stand on the stairs and grunt to get our attention:  "Hey, I want to come up!"  If we're not fast enough, he bards.  Juliet's agile enough that she can jump over to get upstairs and sleep in one of the bedrooms.  But we have to keep Helen on that one level.

I spent the day yesterday imagining all the ways of ending Fred's worthless existence.  That did interfere with my daytime job, but it did marginally improve my skills as an illustrator.  Still, maybe I ought to take a class and learn to draw?

There's Fred burning in hell.  A blue oxygen deprived knotty Fred.  And a torn-to-pieces Fred.  I imagine him with his tongue sticking out because he can't take it anymore.  But do heartworms have tongues?  That's one thing I will not ask the vet for fear of looking really stupid.

All in all, Helen's doing very well, but has now developed sneezing and diarrhea.  "Yeah, so Helen pooped in the kitchen and it's a really bad mess and I don't feel like cleaning it up, but I will," says the message on my office phone.  I suppose when you're 16, you don't ever feel like cleaning up doggie diarrhea.  "We are taking her out almost every two hours, but she still went at home."  Weird, she has not had a single accident until today.  At least she always has her accidents in the same place.

Is Day 3 critical?  We'll just have to get some rice for her and see what the vet tells us.  Maybe this is how her system reacts to the treatment.  Or could it be the special food she's on?  We have to give her her dose of baby aspirin today and that may further upset her stomach.  After coming back from work I will also have to take her temperature.  Frankly, I'm not looking forward to that...but a foster's gotta do what a foster's gotta do.

Helen has a secret weapon.  A deadly sonic weapon called the tympanic megablaster, a weapon that sends the malleus, incus and stapes into a crazy vibratory mode that stuns humans on the spot.  The layman's term is:  bark.  She's not properly trained in its use and rather than aim it for good purpose at her enemies, she aims it as us to express her boundless joy at being in our presence.  Like none other that we've heard until now.  Helen't bark has the power to pierce through he thickest lead-concrete walls.  At least she uses it sparingly, since most of the time she's around somebody, anyway.

It's nearly 8:00 p.m. now.  I just spoke with the technician who consulted the vet.  We have to keep an eye on Helen's sneezing, which they think could be a mild upper respiratory system infection, and put her on a diet of rice and chicken.  I already had time to cook a whole pot of chicken, which is the staple food of our geriatric cat Coco.  We also took Helen's temperature (she has no fever) and it was easier than I thought.  Not that I'll go around taking dogs' temperatures, but it's not rocket science.

Helen's in bed now sleeping with her little head propped up.  Sleep well, little one.  May you have beautiful dreams.

Monday, August 15:  Over the weekend we were battling against Helen's diarrhea.  Already on Friday, the day it had set in, we cooked mushy rice and commandeered the cooked chicken we were prepare for our geriatric cat.  Helen ate this mix trying hard to pick out the pieces of chicken and leave the rice, so we worked hard to turn it into a blended mass.

She was also sneezing up a storm and her nose became runny.  The bouts of sneezing were so violent that she would hit her nose against the floor while her ears went flying.  We were anxiously waiting for a cough to set in since that would not be a good sign.  We were hovering over poor Helen like so many hawks, not to mention that every two hours, we took her outside and saw with dismay that the rice mix was not working as well as we had hoped.

The night from Saturday to Sunday reminded us of the days when, at night, our newborn daughters woke up every two or three hours.  (We survived, just barely, but they seem to be doing very well.)  This time, it was not a baby, but a sick dog that about every two or three hours would wake up and start turning around. So we would dutifully pick her up, gingerly make it down the stairs and stand outside in the dark in our pajamas while Helen's intestines were going haywire.

Yesterday, Sunday, we thought we had won the battle.  And then, in the early evening… bam! Not only did Helen's intestines remind her (and us) of their existence, but she also began coughing. This was too much. We became concerned that not only will be become dehydrated with the diarrhea (especially that she's still on a diuretic to get rid of the residual abdominal fluid build-up) but that she will have a serious upper respiratory problem that would make the heartworm treatment even more difficult.

So today, Monday, Helen had a visit at the vet's. She sat in the waiting room in my lap and had somehow turned into hair-shedding jello. Somewhere in the back a dog was carrying on as if fighting for his life. Helen listened and tried to make sense of this.  And she trembled some more.  Finally, we disappeared in the examining room.

The good news is that, in spite of so many odds being stacked against her, Helen is doing well. Still, her intestines are now the home to two types of bacteria one of which may or may not cause diarrhea, while the other, which is stress-related, does cause it. So she will now have to take an antibiotic to treat this problem. We also need to address her sneezing and runny nose, which indicate an upper respiratory infection, but not yet kennel cough that we have to avoid at all price. So we have another antibiotic to help with that. The problem is that this antibiotic causes… diarrhea, which means that we have to take care of the one she's currently suffering from before we can administer this medication. If the sneezing and runny nose clear up within two to three days on their own, the second antibiotic will not be needed.

This being said, we have to feed Helen to boost her resistance and make her put on weight. She's a skinny little thing – her ribs are sticking out and her skin is draped over her spine. The protein-rich diet she was on is a must, but as long as the intestinal problem persists, we must stick to the rice and chicken mix. And, as mentioned, she does not exactly relish it.  But the resident beagles do! Juliet stands over Helen and each grain of rice that is left on the floor gets immediately picked up. This is the doggie maid service, I suppose. Gelo pretends to be aloof, but if we as much as turn our heads in another direction, he's on top of Helen's bowl.

In any event, all the attention that Helen is getting has taken its toll on our two beagles, especially Juliet. She will now sit at the door and whine to make us take her out. So we obediently march outside while she leads us on wild goose chases.  As soon as we get back home she sits at her bowl in great expectation even though it's not feeding time.  Breaking with tradition, Gelo sleeps at night in the bedrooms upstairs and avoids Helen.  He hasn't "read" any books since the last time, but does enjoy playing wild games with Juliet that very often end up in serious snapping when one bites just a bit too hard.

As for Helen, we would very much like for her to… sleep and rest. But she's very anxious and high-strung. She has to be where we are and reacts to the many unfamiliar noises. She needs rest and food. Lots and lots of both. It seems that she wants to make sure that this is her place now, that she will not be left alone. She takes cat naps and is very vigilant. So she rests best at night in her little bed right next to us.

Friday, August 19: Helen seems to be getting better with each day. We think that Fred is definitely dead and that his buddies have met the same fate. Still, they're circulating in the blood stream and can do a lot of damage if they clog up arteries or get lodged somewhere in Helen's lungs. So we're celebrating cautiously.

The anti-diarrhea antibiotic has done its magic and Helen can now once again eat her special high-protein diet. It has also allowed us to begin giving her the antibiotic that will prevent any possible kennel cough complications in her lungs. She still has a nasty cold – her nose is literally running and she sneezes up storms. If she could talk, she'd probably have that heavy stuffy sounding voice.

The diuretic appears to be bringing down the amount of fluid in her abdomen, which does not appear to have grown any bigger since it was tapped nearly two weeks ago. There's still a bit of a pot belly left, but considering the amounts she eats, this is not too surprising. In any case, even though the ribs and spine can still be clearly seen, her pelvic area is beginning to fill up and the bones no longer stick out. Even her coat is getting a nice shine to it.

Helen's level of energy has also become quite impressive. She insists on being around her human and canine family and wants to participate. On a couple of occasions we took all three beagles on a short walk and the blind little trooper just trotted along incessantly wagging her tail. It was very obvious that she tremendously enjoyed these outings.

Yesterday Helen met two canine neighborhood residents – Jamie, a shepherd mix, and Calie, an Irish wolfhound. That was a pure moment of joy for her. She was somewhat disoriented around Calie whose huge size allowed him to hang above her and she could not figure out where his nose was so that she could sniff it. But she was eventually able to sniff this gentle giant to her heart's delight.

Two days ago we bought Helen a kong that we fill with peanut butter and leave with her when we sneak out the door to go to work. Juliet and Angelo know the routine and usually just disappear in the house to go on sleeping. But Helen hates being left like that and our daughters told us she barked incessantly after our departure. Therefore the kong. It worked very well the first day, keeping Helen busy until later in the morning. However, Juliet got a hold of the kong and bit it in half. Just plain sawed through it with her teeth. Fine, it was a small one, but still – this is solid rubber! Juliet's a small beagle with a set of powerful jaws and a knack for serious mischief. So I got another kong. We'll see.

I had also purchased a whole set of nylabones to keep Helen busy. Again, Juliet stole them all and hid them somewhere. We're still looking. So I got another set…

Yesterday evening Helen came downstairs with us and asked to come up on the couch. She then proceeded to lie down by Angelo who was resting comfortably on his personal and sacred pillow. I could see one of his eyes pop open and look at me quizzically. "This in weird and uncomfortable" he seemed to be saying. "This dog is encroaching on my territory." He finally accepted her and they slept together. I could not resist it and took a picture.

Helen definitely feels very happy with another dog around. She's playful even though she cannot run and do the usual crazy beagle chases. She responds with enthusiasm to Juliet's many invitations to play. Still, we immediately step in and separate them because she needs as much rest as possible because of the treatment and cannot engage in anything rough. Neither one of them can understand why they're not allowed to play with each other.

Monday, August 22: We think Helen was a panda in her first life. Somebody cut a lot of bamboo and piled it up near the local playground. Helen loves to go and bury herself in the dry branches. Her tail wags and she's very obviously happy. She can smell the branches from a distance and just goes for them!

We can see that this little girl is improving by the day. One of her greatest joys is to be able to go out on a walk with Juliet and Angelo. She trots between them and, from her body language, it's perfectly clear that she feels happy and important. There's something in her walk that says: "I'm Helen and I feel fine and I'm very happy." It's when we have to break away and let the other two beagles continue their walk that she becomes very agitated – "But mommy!!! I want to go! Pleeeee-ease! I want to go with Juliet and Angelo!" I imagine that if she was a toddler, she'd just let herself drop to the ground all stiff.

There are other moments of great joy in Helen's life now. Eating is one of them, but that's nothing surprising given that she's a beagle, after all. The other one is when we get up in the morning. She dances and prances and lets out her mega-blaster barks. She rubs her face against our legs and grabs at the pant legs. And her tail just never stops wagging.

Our return from work is another reason to celebrate. We're usually assaulted by the three beagles – Juliet just plops down on the floor belly up, Angelo tries to go around her and Helen simply walks over the other two. The cats just sit there and watch and, if they could, they'd just shake their heads. Then again, our daughter tells us that Coco, the geriatric cat (the one in the picture), did accompany Helen on part of her noontime walk today!

On Sunday, Helen went with us and her foster siblings to her grandparents for lunch. She shook in the car and was very scared. But for once this was not a visit at the hospital! This was a new place that needed exploring and she did just that – she explored. Gingerly, carefully, one small step at a time, but she explored. This little girl is a trooper. We feel that she's beating the odds and fighting with great determination against the likes of Fred. I don't spend my time any more thinking up ways of doing away with that deadly creature. He no longer haunts me. Right now, we're taking joy in seeing Helen get better each day, in seeing her explore her surrounding and changing into one happy beagle girl.

Sunday, August 28: Helen is changing every day. Just today, she came over to the toy box and pulled out a toy that she played with by tossing it in the air and then looking for it on the floor. She has also discovered "The Serpent" a tug-of-war stuffed toy in the shape of a long snake. The Serpent has been completely gutted a while ago by Juliet, who removed most of the stuffing in search of the squeakers, and it is but a shadow of his former self. Still, Helen chewed on him and tossed him around and finally slept with her head on him.

Juliet now invites Helen to play and they usually wind up lying on their backs with their bellies up mouthing at each other, pulling ears and pretending to rip each others' throats out. Gelo usually observes all this from a safe spot under the dining room table.

We're finding out that Helen is a stubborn little girl. She hates going out on her own and we resort to subterfuges. She goes out first and whoever walks Gelo and Juliet has to wait until Helen's far enough that she can't hear the door close or the tags on the other dogs' collars. As soon as she hears either one of these sounds, she wants to follow and refuses to go on her own walk. And we usually insist on these separate walks because the other beagles walk too fast and too far and we do not want Helen to get tired.

She has also found out about the loveseat in the bedroom. This is where she now spends her nights with her head usually propped up on a big pillow and right under the ceiling fan. She sleeps through the night and wakes up only when we're up and about.

We keep observing her to see whether her little belly is again filling up with fluid. The vet did tell us that it most probably will. It seems to us that, indeed, it has grown a bit bigger. This is still a far cry from what it was at the beginning, but it seems to have grown a bit. This would indicate that her heart is still suffering from the aftermath of the hideous Fred and his buddies. We still have to give her the diuretic twice daily and half a baby aspirin every other day. Given her appetite, there are no problems with this. No spoonful of sugar required! One thing is obvious, though. Helen's ribs and hip bones are no longer sticking out! She has filled out nicely, which is a good sign.

Helen is already scheduled for part two of her treatment. She will go into the clinic in the morning of Tuesday, September 6, and get the first half of her second injection. After an overnight stay the second half of the injection will be given the following day, September 7. We can pick her up at the clinic in the evening of the second day. We are getting ready for this already now. I wish I could tell her that things will be fine, that we will come and pick her up and that she should not be afraid.

Purple Heart Recipient!!!!