journal: Addison diagnosis

History pre-diagnosis

Pup: born October 4, 2000; Great Pyrenees, mostly white with some gold and a little gray on her rear, and usually about 110 pounds. Has a little gold spot on her head, which I took for a smudge and cleaned it for a good 15 minutes before realizing it was just part of her face. Although I had done extensive research on the breed prior to adopting, I missed the 2-dewclaw part, and when I brought her home, was convinced she was a beautiful mutant puppy, perfect in every way and especially because of her extra toes! In my continued education, I discovered it’s part of the breed, with a few theories – the one I like is the snowshoe theory, that it helps them stay up on top of the snow. That two little toes can help support over 100 pounds on a few feet of new powder doesn’t really fly with me, but I like the idea. She’s still the most wonderful pup in the universe, even if there are other pups with extra toes. Currently happy, healthy and barky like a good pyr should be.

Pup was always a finicky eater, which I found really strange. I grew up with labs, setters and mixes and none of them ever turned down anything edible or inedible for that matter, ever. Pup would nibble her food , graze all day and sometimes not even finish. At the vets she never took treats offered (still doesn’t), and took forever to accept the new food when I made the transition from puppy food to adult. She was a gangly pup, no extra weight at all, usually 95 to 98 pounds.

After play dates, she would be really pooped – not necessarily a warning sign by itself, but part of the Addison’s package. When we’d travel, an 8 hour road trip to visit her grandparents, she wouldn’t want anything to eat for a day or two. If I had to leave her behind when I’d have to travel to non-dog-friendly places, she would barely eat with her dog camp counselors. Some of this is separation anxiety from some not-so-great initial training, which we’ve since mostly overcome, but some is surely stress response.


At the end of February 2004, her appetite got worse, only half of what she usually ate. I thought maybe it was a bad tooth, because she ate a little soft food and still was drinking ok. On Sunday, she was very lethargic, like I hadn’t seen in her before. I took her to her vet the next day, where they did a urinalysis (UA) and blood draw, and her creatinine and BUN levels were off. They started a urine culture (UC) and scheduled her for IV fluid therapy. They suspected a kidney infection, and mentioned the slight possibility of a disease called Addison’s.

For 2 days I dropped her off in the morning and picked her up at 5 so they could give her IV fluids all day to help her kidneys out. She reacted well, and although the UC came back negative, we started her on antibiotics just in case. After 5 days, however, she started declining again, no appetite. Thinking the antibiotics might be bugging her gut, they had me give her Pepcid once a day, but it had no effect. Her breath started to have an ammonia smell to it, she had severe diarrhea, and ate nothing. She was going into kidney failure. I was really scared, and took her in to the vet again.

While we were waiting, pup’s back legs suddenly shuddered and she had to sit. I called the technician and she got the vet in. Another blood draw, and her creatinine and BUN levels were off even more - they sent me straight to the University Vet Hospital. I flew there like a bat out of hell – my baby was sick, get out of my way! I was really concerned about not being able to carry her if she couldn’t or wouldn’t walk in – I’ve since learned about the wonderful big-wheeled wagons they use. So I chirped and soothed as I walked her briskly in – no sitting, no time to sniff, let’s go! They’d been notified that we were coming, so they whisked her back to a room as soon as we came in the door. I waited in the lobby, and soon one of the vets came out and said, “she’s very shocky and her heart rate is at 150 – we need your permission to start treatment.” I said, ‘yes, do what ever you need, whatever she needs, do it, go!” The worry was shifting to panic.

A second vet came to get her history – we scrambled for a calendar, and I was so thankful I’d been paying attention to everything she did. “She stopped eating on this date. IV treatment these days, and bounced back. Antibiotics since this date. Diarrhea, lethargy, no appetite at all.” He took his notes and disappeared.

I waited in the exam room for a few minutes, then called M to give him an update. Promising to call as soon as I’d heard anything, I hung up, cried for a bit, then began the wait.

What seemed to be days later and probably only a half hour, the second vet came to say that I could go see her, that she was stable. My sweet pup was on the floor, hooked up to an IV – she lifted her head and wagged her tail a bit, and I just buried my face in her neck. Why was she so sick? What’s wrong? Can she be treated? Was I going to have to make the horrible decision? I couldn’t stand to see her feeling so terribly. They let me sit with her and hold her for a while, then said they had results from some bloodwork, so off to an exam room we went.

“We won’t be 100% sure until we do a stress test, but she’s presenting classically as if she has Addison’s disease.” Before he finished the sentence, I blurted out “ Can she be treated? Will she survive?” He then said that it’s very treatable; that most dogs return to a very normal life, and that of all possible diagnoses, Addison’s was the best one. She needed to go into ICU for further treatment and testing, and I could come visit her tomorrow.

Tomorrow?? Couldn’t I set up a cot next to her and stay? I could sleep in her crate with her; I wouldn’t take up any room at all, honest. I had to leave her?? I’d never been in my house without pup. I got her two weeks after closing on the house, so, ok, two weeks at the very beginning, but she was part of the woodwork, part of the air. It was hollow and lifeless when I got home. I called for updates every few hours. M came over, and we cried and tried to distract ourselves until we could visit the next day.

Visiting hours started at 1, so we were there at 10. I think they understood – there were other parents there already with their little ones, each with bandages or tubes of varying degree. They walked pup out to us and she was weak but happy to see us. She lay down between us and we stroked and scratched and let her nap. Dr. M came to see us after a while, and told us she’d be pup’s primary vet. She’s an Addison specialist and absolutely wonderful. At this point, we hadn’t done much research so most of the terminology flew over our heads. Mineralocorticoids, corticosteriods, adrenodeficiency, creatinine & BUN levels – thank the gods for the internet, which we dove into afterwards. Dr. M gave us the lowdown: monthly shots, daily prednisone, constant monitoring, lots of testing. Translation: this was going to be very expensive, especially for such a big dog (the injection is based on weight and her dose would be $200 a month), and are you willing and able to do it? I said I would figure out a way. Money had been more than tight since my divorce, but I had just received a bonus from work and my tax return, so I could take care of immediate needs. I’ll mortgage the house if I need to, I thought to myself.

The next day, after 3 days in ICU, she could come home! She hadn’t eaten anything while she was there, and they were Very Concerned about it. If she didn’t eat anything once she got home, she’d have to go back in and be given a feeding tube, so I was ready to give her anything. Previous to all of this, I kept her on strictly dog foods and treats. Rarely would she get a steak bone, and it would be washed of salt and all human flavorings. Now, however, the rules had changed – anything she wanted! Oreos! Potato chips! Pizza! Lucky for her, she only wanted more dog-appropriate foods, so she was safe from my zeal. The first few bites she took of the raw burger and rice that I hand fed her brought tears to my eyes – if she eats, she’s going to be ok. I took the first real breath I’d taken in 2 weeks.

After 2 weeks of not eating, Pup had dropped down to 91 pounds and was scrawny. She still had her fur, so it was only really apparent in her face, but under the fluff were ribs and spine, very little squish. Another part of Addison’s is stomach ulcers, which explains her picky and erratic eating patterns. She was put on Sucralfate to heal any ulcers she might have, and within a week, there was a difference. By day 2 home, she had a little kibble with her burger and rice, a small romp on day 3, and at day 5, she was in the yard barking - music to my ears!

She had been on large doses of Prednisone to get her stabilized, and now we had to ease her down to the smallest dose she needed. Too much pred has all sorts of bad side effects, and she had them – agitated, couldn’t sit still, barking at voices in her head, plus damage to her liver. It would take until July to take her off it completely.