Yesterday my mom’s health took a scary turn. She was extremely confused when she woke up. She was holding the clothes she’d been wearing the day before but saying she’d lost her clothes. Explaining she was holding her clothes only made her contemplate the bundle with confusion.
As he almost always is, Murph was at my side to help with the Grandma Dorothy wakeup routine. When my mom kept saying she didn’t have her clothes but needed them because she was “going home today,” I opened her closet door and showed her all her clothes hanging there. Murph even snatched some of her dirty socks off the floor and brought them over. Not to play as he normally would, but as if he, too, was saying, “See? Here’s some more of your clothes. Recognize them?”
She chuckled at Murph and said, “It’s because of you I’m in this mess. Why didn’t you lead me back to my room? Now I’m lost. I’m never following you down that gravel road again.”
Murph (like myself) had no idea what she was talking about, but he didn’t take her admonishment personally.
Even though she has dementia, she’s never been quite that bad. Worrisome. But less than 10 minutes later as we were gathered downstairs going about the breakfast routine, things got much more worrisome.
My mom was making a mess of herself eating her Cheerios. (Nowhere near normal behavior.) Then she started to slur her words and have trouble with her movements. Then her face got all weird.
I’d seen my dad do something similar several years ago when he had a TIA, or mini-stroke. I called 911 fearing she was having something similar.
After I gave the 911 operator all the info, she advised me to put any family pets away.
The cats were easy. I lured them into the laundry room (where their food bowls and one potty box lives) with the temptation of Pounces. Then I left the door into the garage open for them.
Murph was harder. I left him out as I ran around trying to get things in order while we waited so I’d have it ready to go when I left for the hospital, but I kept talking to him the entire time: “Something’s wrong with Grandma Dorothy and I had to call some people who’re coming to help her. I need you to be on your best behavior and be patient with me.”
When I heard the ambulance’s sirens, I quickly put Murph in the sunroom. He was calm and didn’t bark when the paramedics walked in. (He could see them through the glass doors.) But the moment they started treating his grandma, he wanted out to keep his eye on them.
And so he busted free.
But he didn’t want to get near the strangers with all of their equipment, even though the paramedics thought that’s what he was trying to do. He just wanted to be able to see.
Except, I had to respect their comfort and safety level while giving them the best possible, distraction-free environment. Back into the sunroom poor Murph was corralled. Much to his chagrin.
Why It’s Important to Put Pets Up When Paramedics Arrive
1. First and foremost, you don’t want to slow down getting care delivered to the person needing it. As I wrote about with pets and repair people, even friendly pets can pose problems the same as aggressive ones. (Different problems, mind you, but any problem interferes with delivering emergency services.)
2. You also want to consider your pet’s safety. People coming in and out, or stretchers being brought in, leaves doors open. That equates to opportunity for any escape artists.
3. You don’t want anymore problems than the one you already have. Even a pet who under any other circumstance may be the sweetest, nicest, most loving pet ever can be affected by the stress of an emergency situation. It could trigger them to attack, and no one would want to see that happen.
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