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Today was a truly terrible day.
14 years ago
General
My four-month old Green-Cheek Conure had a stroke today. It came out of the blue. We went through our routine as usual, I let her out of her cage, she promptly shit on my shoulder, and then after scritching, glided off to her favorite play-area in the studio. I left her, as I do every morning, to play a little while I cut up her breakfast. (Harrison's and fresh fruits/veggies)In the span of literally five to ten minutes, she went from active and happy, to floundering on the floor in terror, with her feet curled into tight fists at her belly. My first thought was: OH JESUS, DID SHE HIT SOMETHING? No, I'd have seen that through the doors--was it a candle fume?!
I immediately scooped her up and tucked her into her carrier with a warm towel, and zoomed for my avian vet. She lives about a half-mile away. Cash's state worsened every second. Doctor Meyers looked her over, and could find no signs of physical trauma, or toxicity; her bloodwork was clean. And while he fecal LOOKED bad, it too was clean and stress-caused. The vet gave her a steroid, and made us an immediate appointment with a Specialist about thirty-minutes away. She was almost certain, however, that Cash wouldn't live long enough to make it to the appointment.
A small miracle happened along the way-- Cash got increasingly more alert, and mobile-- but her entire right side seemed to be paralyzed. The Specialist confirmed it as a stroke, and took x-rays to absolutely rule out any kind of cranial damage. Her x-rays seem fine, and he told me she was in the most beautiful feather he's ever seen on a bird in years. Her youth, and good health, should help her recover mobility, along with weekly steroid shots and physical therapy.
Cash has been diagnosed with Cardiac Racing Syndrome. Basically, if the bird gets overexcited or overtaxes herself, she has a stroke that takes away the use of her limbs. Most of the time, they're able to recover motor function again.
I figure, even if she never fully recovers, I'm prepared to take care of her; she's my baby, whom I owe a lot to(It was a tumor, and thankfully, benign and GONE). Everyone that's met Cash has had a near-magical experience with her. She always seems to know what the people around her need, at exactly the right time. I cried my eyes out at the first clinic, and all she tried to get me to do the whole time was scritch her head, and talk to her.
I know now that none of what happened was my fault, but I still feel like I failed her as a mother.
I immediately scooped her up and tucked her into her carrier with a warm towel, and zoomed for my avian vet. She lives about a half-mile away. Cash's state worsened every second. Doctor Meyers looked her over, and could find no signs of physical trauma, or toxicity; her bloodwork was clean. And while he fecal LOOKED bad, it too was clean and stress-caused. The vet gave her a steroid, and made us an immediate appointment with a Specialist about thirty-minutes away. She was almost certain, however, that Cash wouldn't live long enough to make it to the appointment.
A small miracle happened along the way-- Cash got increasingly more alert, and mobile-- but her entire right side seemed to be paralyzed. The Specialist confirmed it as a stroke, and took x-rays to absolutely rule out any kind of cranial damage. Her x-rays seem fine, and he told me she was in the most beautiful feather he's ever seen on a bird in years. Her youth, and good health, should help her recover mobility, along with weekly steroid shots and physical therapy.
Cash has been diagnosed with Cardiac Racing Syndrome. Basically, if the bird gets overexcited or overtaxes herself, she has a stroke that takes away the use of her limbs. Most of the time, they're able to recover motor function again.
I figure, even if she never fully recovers, I'm prepared to take care of her; she's my baby, whom I owe a lot to(It was a tumor, and thankfully, benign and GONE). Everyone that's met Cash has had a near-magical experience with her. She always seems to know what the people around her need, at exactly the right time. I cried my eyes out at the first clinic, and all she tried to get me to do the whole time was scritch her head, and talk to her.
I know now that none of what happened was my fault, but I still feel like I failed her as a mother.
Keep it up sweety and she'll be alright.