A date with the doctor

We did it! We went to see Dr. Martinelli, and his cast of thousands.

As hard as it seemed to do two weeks ago, it was much easier today. Of course, it wasn't cheap. Tina is on vacation this week and Christine is taking care of the horses and the dogs; these are my two go-to gals when I need Snoopy to be hauled anywhere. Unfortunately, the ultrasound specialist, Dr. Rantanen, was only available today, so I had to call a professional horse transport.

Enter Chuck and Stacey of Chuck Erb Horse Transport. Chuck's name is actually much longer than "Erb" – it's got about 25 letters – so he just uses the first three. We arranged for pickup at 11:30, to be down at Dr. Martinelli's by 2 pm.

Before we left, I decided to groom Snoopy a little so he'd look nice for the doctor. As usual, Snoopy wanted to bite my shirt, play with the brush and generally invade my space. We spent five minutes working on our tough-love relationship. I'd curry him and he'd stretch his neck out to enjoy it, then he'd turn and try to nip my shirt and I'd smack his nose.

When Chuck arrived, I warned him that a) Snoopy is a land shark, and b) he might be a little high-spirited. Snoopy proved me wrong by walking quietly out to the street, to Chuck's enormous vehicle. It was like a horsie limo – it cost about as much, too. Chuck was, however, a really nice man, and very good with Snoopy.

So I followed Chuck and Snoopy from beautiful Chino Hills,

To beautiful San Marcos.

This is the route we took.

When we finally got to the Twin Oaks Farm, Dr. Martinelli's intern, Dr. Walker met me. She immediately had men to take Snoopy to a stall and unwrap his leg (we had put a standing wrap on it for shipment), gave me paperwork to fill out, and then escorted me to the office to meet with the other doctors. Talk about efficiency!

Let me just say that I loved, loved, LOVED Doctors Martinelli, Rantanen, and Walker. They put me at ease, and spoke to me like we were all people trying to figure things out, and not like a team of gods answering the tiresome questions of a mortal.

We began by reviewing Snoopy's x-rays. They all agreed that Dr. Fischer had done a really good job and that the bones had properly fused.

Next, we went outside to watch Snoopy trot.

"Wow, he's really lame," Dr. Martinelli said.

As Gibbs would say to DiNozzo on NCIS, "Ya think?"

Dr. Walker then administered a little cocktail to sedate Snoopy so he wouldn't kick Dr. Rantanen during the ultrasound. My big black horse was in dreamland within moments.

I watched over Dr. Rantanen's shoulder while he slid the sensor over Snoopy's fetlock and pastern. At first, the screen reminded me of my first ultrasound of my son when I was pregnant. Then a bizarre shape took form in the graininess.

"See that?" he said. "Looks like an alien."

"So that's what's wrong with Snoopy," I told him. "He's got an alien infection."

Dr. Rantanen took a series of snapshots of the foot with weight on it and weight off it. He followed the suspensory ligaments from one insertion point to the next. While I watched, Dr. Martinelli began to talk to me about bone scans as another diagnostic tool in our search for Snoopy's lameness. As he talked, I thought I saw the dollar bills floating, out of my wallet and into the walls of the barn.

Between the x-rays and the ultrasound, I waited for those magic words: "Aha! There's the problem." But they never came. Dr. Rantanen kept saying that he saw no problems with Snoopy's ligaments. He showed me the pictures he'd taken and explained what he was seeing in each one to prove his point. Quite frankly, I had to just believe him. I mean, he could have pointed to a dark spot and said, "See that? It's Swine flu." Who was I to argue?

In a nutshell (and completely paraphrased for the medical-terms-impaired), this is what Dr. Martinelli told me:

"Dr. Rantanen can't find any soft tissue damage, so there's no need to do shock wave or stem cell treatment. His x-rays show that the bones are fused properly. So basically, there's nothing wrong with him, except that he's lame.

"I think, although radialogically, he's fused, functionally, he hasn't. He just still hurts from the initial injury and surgery. I won't give you a 100% guarantee that he'll end up completely sound, but I think right now it's still too soon to tell.

"In the meantime, I think you should take the kid gloves off and let him be a horse. Turn him out, don't worry if he runs around and kicks up his heels. If he's quiet enough, ride him at the walk. Just don't let him do any reining slides again."

What he said made sense to me when I equate it to human injury. I've never broken anything, but after my C-section, there was a loooonnnnggg period of time where I could not do situps because there was a range of motion where I just couldn't feel my stomach muscles. In addition to the fracture, Snoopy has had an incision to install plates and screws. The bone has to be traumatized by the foreign objects. When you toss in the blood vessels, muscle, nerves, etc that needed to be cut or moved around to get to the bone, why wouldn't he still have some soreness at the trot?

So the good news is there's nothing wrong with my horse. The bad news is that he's still lame. The better news is that I can relax and let him have a little fun.

Oh, and BTW, Snoopy was a complete gentleman at Twin Oaks and never tried to eat any of the doctors or attendants, which Dr. Martinelli teased me about constantly. "Oh, watch out, he's gonna chew on you," he'd tell the helper as Snoopy laid his sleepy nose in the crook of the guy's arm. Isn't that just like a kid?

A new day, a new tactic

Last Tuesday, Dr. Martinelli emailed me, after I had emailed him.

"Hi Gayle,
Dr. Rantanen will not be available this week, but should be next Wed May 6. He will confirm with me this week, but you may look into transportation options for mid-day on May 6th and let me know."

We didn't mention the whole snafu of the previous week. At this point, I decided to let it go and move forward. I also decided to take a different approach with this visit. I've emailed Dr. Martinelli to tell him we will be there around 2 p.m. on Wednesday and to contact me ASAP if this is not feasible. I'll also call him tomorrow to leave the same message on his voicemail. I've contracted Stacy and Chuck again to carry Snoopy down to San Marcos, so all I need at this point is to go buy a fat, quilted standing wrap for his leg.

I'm so hoping it happens this time.

In the meanwhile, we've moved Snoopy to a larger, outdoor pipe stall, to allow him to walk around more and get more stimulation. Here he is in his new digs:

He's really liking it here. It overlooks the round pen, so he can watch the other horses (I suspect he runs vicariously through them), there are goats and deer in the neighbor's pasture to look at, and he has a neighbor two stalls over. Her name is Rose. We can't put him next to a horse at this point because he wants to play with them, so there are too many aerials and squealing to be safe.

I'm still not sure what will happen on Wednesday. Will the doctors find anything useful? Anything treatable? Will he have to stay down there for therapy?

Stay tuned for our next installment of That's My Snoopy!

The wait goes on

I know you were all just breathless with anticipation about Snoopy's visit to Dr. Martinelli this week. Let me relieve your suspense: it didn't happen.

Here's what happened instead. Tina and Niki are at the Hollywood Charity Horse Show this week and couldn't trailer Snoopy to San Marcos. Christine (my other friend with a trailer) is in Elk Grove at a horse show and couldn't take him, either. This meant I had to hire a professional horse transport. They're nice people, very easy to get along with and take excellent care of the horses, but they are Expensive - As - Hell. They're easily triple the cost of what Tina or Christine would charge me.

But I didn't see any other options, so I booked Stacey and Chuck to take Snoopy to the doctor. The problem was that they wanted to know when they were doing this, since it was a day trip and Snoop had to come home. It was a very reasonable request.

I called Dr. Martinelli, just as he requested, to find out when to bring Snoopy down. I called him on Monday. Then I called him on Tuesday. Three times. Each time I called him on Tuesday, I had Stacey calling me shortly after (telepathy on her part, I'm sure) to get the status.

My options were few at this point. I could just arrange for a mid-morning transport and hope for the best. Maybe we'd get down there and the ultrasound doctor wouldn't be there, which means we'd go home and I'd have paid $400 for a car ride. Or we'd get down there and the doctor wasn't coming until late afternoon and I'd have to figure out how to get Snoopy home. We could hitchhike, but Snoopy doesn't have opposable thumbs.

Or I could cancel.

In the doctor's defense, I know they get busy. But I hate calling and calling and calling - to a black hole. I begin to feel like a jilted lover. "Please, can't we just talk?" Or a stalker.

I was so revved up about seeing this doctor, and finding more information about Snoopy's injury, and I still am, but if we have to re-schedule, that's the way it is. I'll get in touch with him again (even if I have to call in Dr. Murphy) and try to make an appointment when Tina or Christine can take him. That way, I've got a little bit of wiggle room if the appointment doesn't go as planned.

Because nothing ever seems to go as planned these days.

We've set the date!

After two phone messages and an extensive email to Dr. Martinelli with no response, I called in the big guns: Dr. Brigid Murphy. This experience has removed any trace of shyness I ever had about contacting doctors, animal or human. If it takes name dropping, intermediaries, papal dispensation, I don't care - I'll get to see that doctor one way or the other.

Dr. Martinelli couldn't have been nicer when he called finally called me. He had actually read my blog and could discuss Snoopy's case in detail - not only that, but he had a way of talking to me that didn't either condescend or talk above my grasp of medical lingo. In other words, I felt like we had a conversation.

As I suspected, before going through any treatment, he wants to do an evaluation, which is fine with me. I mean, why should he give my horse shock wave treatment on MY say-so? The really good part of this is that he contracts with a doctor who has a digital, high-res, state-of-the-art ultrasound and can get much better pictures of Snoopy's pastern. The not-as-good news is that the doctor (he told me his name, but I can't recall it right now) is semi-retired and has a sporadic schedule. We've set the appointment for a week from this Wednesday. I'm to bring Snoopy's x-rays, too.

He sounded a little worried when I told him Dr. Fischer didn't see any reason why Snoopy would return to full soundness. While he said this was certainly possible, Snoopy's injury being in the back of his pastern makes it one of the more difficult types of desmitis to treat. He's had horses take as long as 18 months to recover from this, so he likes to take the kind of pessimistic, long-term view. That way, owners are not looking for the miraculous, 6-month healing.

So hopefully Snoopy and I will find a ride down to San Marcos on April 22nd. I think it's also the weekend of the Hollywood Charity Horse Show, and both Tina and Christine may be too busy to give us a lift. Wish us luck!

Progress begins again

Despite my house falling apart around me, luck smiled upon me Monday. Dr. Snyder called, around noon I think, to discuss Snoopy. He sounded like he was on his car phone; either that, or he was standing in the middle of a freeway.

I went over the same things that I told Dr. Nieto - or whoever it was - about Snoop's broken foot, short-striding, handwalking since August, yadda, yadda. I added in what Dr. Pollard had written down for me to tell him about the diagnostic anesthesia: "Abaxial nerve block was essentially negative. Low 4-point block was 80%+ better."

Dr. Snyder was as patient and nice as Dr. Nieto-whoever and said that it sounded like insertion desmitis was the correct diagnosis. He offered three options:

1. Stem cells - I thought this therapy was only useful for new injuries, but Dr. Snyder told me they've been having a lot of success with chronic problems. The downside to this therapy is that it's wildly expensive, about $3000. I'd have to sell a lot of copies of Freezer Burn to justify it.

2. Shock wave - Dr. Snyder assured me that this was much less expensive, and wouldn't harm Snoopy at all. The worst that could happen is that after spending money on the treatment, it wouldn't work.

3. Continue with the current therapy - which is just walking.

Dr. Snyder recommended the shock wave plus the walking regimen. He said the next ultrasound (due April 26) would show whether there was any improvement. Actually, he sounded like he would be interested in knowing how the ultrasound turned out.

So that's what we're going to do. Tina spoke with Brigid (Dr. Murphy) who said Dr. Martinelli had the best shock wave machine around. He is down in San Marcos, but he's the head of California Equine Orthopedics, and he treated Copper, Tina's old show horse, so he sounds pretty good. I'll set up the appointment, then figure out how to get Snoopy down to his facility.

I'm actually kind of excited to have him treat Snoopy. I don't want this blog to sound like I just want my horse to be instantly healed. If it takes a year for him to recover, it takes a year. What I want to avoid is for Snoopy to end up an invalid because we didn't push enough, stretch him enough, etc.

Trust me - I'll keep you all informed.