The past week or so has been pure hell.

It started last Saturday when we took Doyle to the vets because he had a bloated stomach and looked a little uncomfortable. At the time I really didn't think it was much to worry about but I was wrong, very wrong indeed. The vet diagnosed him with a heart murmur and wanted to do more test on the little guy so we had to leave him with her. This was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Ever since we adopted Doyle three years ago he has never been left on his own without a family member there to keep him company, I don't think I will ever forget the look on his face has the vet walked him away from us. At that moment in time I thought that is going to be the last time we see ever see him.
Waiting for the vets to ring us back and tell us what the hell was happening was just unbearable, it was like you wanted them to ring at the same time has hoping they don't encase its bad news, no news is good news right!. Eventually the phone rang and we was given the ok to come and collect him (so far so good), but when we got there the news wasn't good in fact it was the largest stinking pile of shit encumbered news possible. The vet believed he had an assortment of problems with his organs varying from Heart failure, an enlarged liver, a mass on his spleen which is possibly a tumour and his Kidneys were failing. So all in all it was just the worst news possible. Putting him to sleep was a very close thing but luckily the vet decided to refer us to see a heart specialist at Liverpool Uni on the following Tuesday.
I can't put into words how difficult these few days were but let's just say I was a complete fucking wreck. I was just stuck in panic mode because I felt I was loosing something very important to me and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I couldn't sleep or eat I was physically sick and lived off alcohol and Kalms. I can't say Amanda was doing any better than me it was just fucking awful for everybody concerned.
Tuesday morning was one of the worst because at the time we believed that it could be Doyle's last. I was dreading taking him to the specialist in fear of more bad news. It's a good thing Amanda and my parents were there to help answer all the questions because I just mentally froze up, I just sat there with my head in my hands hoping the vet will tell us our puppy is fine and our local vet got it wrong (again). They ran more test on the our baby dog whilst we all walked around Liverpool for what seemed to be the longest day ever waiting for my phone to ring so we could go back and find out the outcome of their tests.
After some hours my mobile rang and I passed it onto Amanda (I hate talking on phones at the best of times and this certainly wasn't a fucking good time). We were instructed to come back in and talk to the vet about the outcome of their findings. The news wasn't great but it also wasn't awful, it could have been far worse I suppose. Doyle does have a deadly heart defect in fact it has quite a few but with a shit load of drugs it is treatable (not curable) and should prolong his life, to what extent nobody knows or if they do they aren't telling. The enlarge liver, dodgy kidneys and possible tumour was a no show, the swelling of the stomach was a side effect of Doyle's leaky heart valves and will settle down when the drugs kick in (which he will be on till the day he dies).
It's been a wee while now since he started his treatment and already he has shown an improvement though today he seems a little bit down but the vet did warn us one of the side effects of one of the many pills he is on will make him depressed for a short while.
We are back at Liverpool with him this Wednesday for a check up so wish him luck, God knows the poor fellow needs it.