In response to your kind inquiries, here is the sketchy lay person version of the Rb's issues.
To start with, he's going on 39, the rough equivalent of a 95-ish-year-old-man.
Hematocrit reveals high percentage of red blood cells, which is a flag for over-production due to poor circulation system... i.e., the body isn't getting circulation and perceives this as not enough red blood cells. Unfortunately, this only results in sludge-like blood due to too-much-red-blood cell percentage. Eventual result, heart failure due to strain. So there are meds that help. Enalapril... helped for a while. Then began to fail. I still continue that, and will.
Tried Isoxsuprine to augment the Enalapril, but he refuses it. I'm still trying to get it in him but it is FUNKY-tasting. Meanwhile, hematocrit creeps up. Healthy number is 50... his has been rising, is now 60. Critical is 70-plus. So... vet wants to do an outpatient procedure where he simply takes out a bunch of blood, thus lessening the concentration, thinning the blood, perhaps resetting the system, while I continue to attempt better administration of Isox... various juices, sauces, whatever may make it palatable. Due to my muscular dystrophy, I can't restrain him for meds, not even sure that would be productive...
Bottom line, he has to ingest meds willingly, through trickey, flavoring, whatever.
So in two weeks, we go in for the procedure. It really won't be much scarier for him than the routine blood tests, and he will only be away from me for 45 minutes or so. I will of course be crying and hopefully not throwing up. I'm SOOOOOO mature about this stuff. My own medical issues? I'm good. The bird's issues? I'm a hysterical embarrassment to myself. Happily, Vet is a wonder, a master, an international DUDE, and has seen the Rb since '97. when we moved back up North. He genuinely loves birds, especially his special buddy, and I trust him completely. So.
So.
Having been unable to have kids, my amygdala (the main locus of maternal attachment to infantile stimuli) has definitely grabbed on to the Rb's tail and he is my neuro-child. LOL
What am I gonna do?
I'm gonna do what can be done until the treatment is more odious than the symptoms. I wanted a long life with my bird... does the phrase "be careful what you wish for" come to mind? Nawwwwwww... I'm grateful. We will work it out. Friends and family don't really get it, but... Y'ALL DO! And I'm so happy to have you here.
And that's the Rb update.
