Second visit

SATURDAY 31ST MARCH

Up bright and early to visit Chico.
I managed the route this time, finding the correct turn off everytime, what a difference a level head makes!

It was 9:30am and the beautiful sun of the week was gone, replaced with a grey cloudy drizzle. The clinic yard was quiet, that was until I turned the corner to Chico's stable. Yet again I received an enthusiastic greeting.

The yard staff had given him a hose down the day before and he was alot cleaner but still quite crispy. I had taken my grooming kit so got to work. He still look a little disheveled but in a much cleaner way! He was still sporting his very fetching tummy bandage but today seemed much less uncomfortable.


Whilst I was with him he had a couple of wees and did two poos. For anyone who has ever been through a colic op with their horse knows that pooing is a wonderful sign. never before has a poo been so happily received. This meant his gut was working correctly, there was no blockage and things were moving along.
A small pile of hay sat in the corner and I was able to get him to take a munch. The vet had told me that the day before they had managed to get him to eat some soaked hard food, another good achievement.
Vet had seen to him that morning and were happy to stop the colic checks and just leave him to recuperate without interference.

As on Thursday Chico wanted me to take him out and again I fell sorry that I couldnt. I spent a nice hour with him before setting off home. Before I went I popped back to the stable for one last goodbye and boy he was making it difficult leave him!

We made the 48 hour period

FRIDAY 30TH MARCH

Today was a teacher training day at work and for me that meant a day or corporate team building drivel, assessing my emotional intelligence and how that made me a better employee. I couldnt have cared less. I felt awful. After two days of hell my body had given up, I was emotionally and physically drained. I sat in a semi-vegetative state for most of the day, my skeptical input was most certainly not missed.

I had planned to visit Chico again that evening but the thought of driving over to the clinic was too much so I decided to have an early night and go the next day.

The vet had phoned and all was still going well with Chico. He had passed the 48 hour period and everyone was hopeful his improvement would continue.

The next day - 24 hours on.

THURSDAY 29TH MARCH

I slid out of bed at 7am, somehow I got dressed and drove into work. I was there in body, but not in mind.
Gripped with anxiety, stress and shock I was not doing well at all. All I could manage was to sit and stare at my phone. The vet had promised to phone me that morning to let me know how Chico had done through the night. To her it was a quick call before morning rounds, but to me it was everything. I couldnt eat, I couldnt chat, I couldnt do anything until I knew if Chico had survived the night. After a couple of soul destroying hours I finally phoned the vets myself.
'The vet is with him right now, she will call you back in ten minutes.'

After half an hour my vet got in touch.
'Chico is doing really well. We have been giving him a full colic check every 4 hours and so far he is doing well. He even has some quiet gut sounds this morning, which we wouldnt have expected to hear so that is very promising, and I have grazed him in hand for 10 minutes,' the vets tone lightened 'we had some trouble getting him back in. I think he was enjoying his grass!.'

This phone call just lifted the world off my shoulders. Chico was being his cheeky self, playing them up so soon after his surgery surely must be a good sign. I had decided I would visit him that evening and after informing all who would listen that Chico was still with us I managed to get my head into gear and finish my days work.


4pm came and I was free from work. I still felt very anxious and my digestive system was not happy! Jumping into my car I set of, written directions in hand, to Lichfield (about half an hour away) to see my boy.
I was making good progress until in my anxious state caused me to leave a junction early. I immediately rejoined the dual carriageway in the opposite direction but missing two more junctions to turn around and I was running out of 'visiting hours'. I finally got the right junction but then missed the very sudden turn into the clinic. Cue another 10 minutes to go around the route again!
With only 25 minutes of visiting time left I finally managed to park up at the clinic.

As I turned the corner onto the yard I was met with an enthusiastic whinny. There was my Chico, all pleased to see his mum.
As I went into his stable my heart sank for him. He had a big bandage all around his middle and his fur was covered in crusty dry sweat and blood. He had black tape around his hooves and his shoes had been removed. All in all he looked a mess. But when I looked at his eyes I could see he was still his normal self.

He immediately decided that now his mum was here that I would be the perfect scratching post. He rubbed every inch of his head on me, and I loved it. I asked the yard staff for a brush and groomed his head and neck. I didnt want to groom his back end just incase it was still sore.
Since I was there Chico figured it was high time we went and did something. He pushed at the door, scrapped his foot with impatience and was generally being a pain. I felt helpless that I couldnt make him understand that he had to stay in his stable, he had to rest and recover.
All the excitement must have pulled a bit at his stitches (he now fashioned a wound stretching the length of his 'tummy') and the discomfort started to show. My 30 minutes were up anyway so I gave him my love and left him to have a quiet night.

Chico had made it through the first 24 hours with out a hitch...

The longest 4 hours

I went back to work for a few hours, but I felt like a zombie, I was numb and emotionless, struggling to take in what had just happened.

The vet had told me that the surgery would take around 3-4 hours, and waiting for her call was torture.
As every hours passed and no call came I became more and more convinced that it would be bad news.
After work I went straight home, something I havent done for months. I always go straight from work to the stables but today was different, today Chico wasnt there waiting for me.
At home i still hadnt had the call and my anxiety was close to going nuclear.

The phone rang.

'Chico is awake and up on his feet and the surgery was successful,' the vets voice was chirpy 'we found something unusual. Chico's small colon was looped in a horseshoe shape, it had what we think was testicular tissue wrapped around it. It seems to have been like that for years, probably since he was castrated. His small intestine had also stuck to it and that is what caused the massive colic today. We have separated it all up and luckily nothing was damaged.'

As the vet spoke I was frantically typing one handed on my laptop, I knew in my emotional state I wouldnt remember anything she was saying if i didnt note it down.

'What is the prognosis?' that was all I could think about.

'Well, we are worried that because his small colon has been like that for years that it may revert back to its pre-operation state. If it does it may cause him to colic again. I will be honest with you, if he colics again there will be no point us operating again as we will know what we will find and there will be nothing we could do. If he does colic again it might be the time to think about the hard decision. The next 48 hours is critical.'

As I hung up I didnt know what to feel. I was grateful that he has survived but didnt feel any sense of relief, I knew he could colic again any second of any hour and if he did it would be the end.

COLIC!!

WEDNESDAY 28TH MARCH

It was a normal day at work on one of the sunniest days of 2012 and I was happily beavering away in our prep room.
Just after 10am I heard my phone ring in the pocket of my coat that was hanging on the door. I scooted over but missed the call. Looking at the display it read 'Sarah stables' and my heart stopped. Our stable yard manager Sarah only ever sends texts so the fact she was phoning me meant something must be wrong.
In slight panic I phoned her back. When she answered she sounded concerned.
"Chico is covered in sweat, is shivering and keeps trying to go down' she told me, 'You have to phone the vets now!'

Chico is my horse. A very special horse who I have had for just under two years. A beautiful pure white with patches of dappled chestnut and a stunning face. He is everything to me and gives me a reason to get out of bed even on my worst days. He is cheeky, boisterous and an adorable character, in short, he is perfect for me.



I fumbled with my phone to find the vets number and called them immediately.
'The vet will be with you in 10 minutes' the receptionist told me.

I phoned Sarah back to let her know then just had to wait. I wasnt sure what to expect, what would the vet say, would Chico be okay. I couldnt just leave work so had to rely on Sarah to be there for my boy.

After about 20 agonising minutes my phone rang again.
'This is the vet here, I am very concerned about Chico, he has colic, I think he is in serious trouble. You need to get him to the clinic as soon as possible.'
At that moment every emotion left me, knowing I had to phone my dad so he could drive the car and trailer I broke down into tears. As my dad answered my call I thrust the phone at my mum (who I luckily work with) unable to speak over the tears.

With my dad on the way to the stables I just abandoned work, leaving my mum to let the management know, I didnt care if i was allowed to go or not, I just HAD to get to my horse, at that moment nothing else mattered.


As I pulled up at the yard I could see my dad hooking up the trailer and the vets car on the carpark.
The vet met me at the car and took me straight to Chico in his stable.
My poor boy. Every inch of him we was dripping with sweat, he was full of sedative and looked completely lost. He didnt even acknowledge I had arrived, he was definitely in a bad way.

'We need to get him on the trailer and to the clinic asap' the vet told me.
I took hold of Chico's lead rope and led him up the yard. My dad had readied the trailer and came to help me load.
Now Chico hates loading, it normally takes us between 20-50 minutes to get him on the trailer and even though he was drugged up Chico had no intention of changing his ways. However Chico didnt realise that today wasnt a normal day and getting on the trailer today could be the difference between life and death. The vet mustered a small army of liveries with lunge lines and brooms and we had to desperately prod and pull to get him on. Luckily it only took a couple of minutes before we were all secured and on our way.

On the way my dad did his best to keep me calm and relaxed and I was so glad he was there, i couldnt have done that journey on my own.

Arriving at the clinic Chico was unloaded and went straight into a stable.
'We are going to take him in for tests,' the vet explained in the reception, 'it will take about half an hour then we will know if he needs surgery or not.'

My dad and I sat in the small reception, all I remember thinking was that I hoped he didnt need surgery. I had seen tv footage of horse surgery and knew it was a major thing for a horse to endure. I also knew that there was a high chance i could lose Chico on the operating table.
After what felt like a year the vet appeared in the reception, she looked rushed and I remember a strong smell of 'hospital'.

'We have done a scan and a rectal exam, there is something going on, we can see it isnt right. We want to operate on him now.'

'Do whatever needs to be done.' I felt sick.....

It was only 12:30 and as we drove away, leaving Chico in the hands of the surgeons, I was terrified. I was convinced Chico was going to die. I was in shock. In just two and a half hours my world had been turned upside down. I was due to have a lesson with Chico that evening but now he was fighting for his life.