If She Only Had a Brain

Entry, Experiences
Becky Zaremba, Ross University

During my undergraduate time at Purdue University I took a summer volunteer position at the large animal teaching hospital which allowed me to shadow clinicians as well as become familiar with basic veterinary skills. Since I was interested in pursuing a career in equine practice this is what was referred to as “a good life choice”! The poor life choice that followed was that I hadn’t invested in a Dorland’s Medical Dictionary sooner and, like most vet students, I had a hyperactive baby animal gene.

During one of my rotations, a four day old American Mini filly presented with a fist sized mass on the dorsal aspect of her skull. After further evaluation the mass was identified as a meningocele. A neurologic exam indicated that she had ataxia of all four limbs and that her vision was incomplete. Otherwise, she acted as if she was a normal healthy foal, but was not sufficiently nursing from a bottle as she was donated to the university as an orphan. A nasogastric tube was placed and a CT scan was scheduled in order to more closely examine the meningocele. The CT scan is when I truly became involved in the case as it was, hands down, the most interesting thing I had yet to encounter in veterinary medicine.

The CT scan had revealed that the meningocele contained brain tissue and fluid. The clinicians on the case had started discussing options for the filly and at that point they were unsure if there was anything that they would be able to do. Since this was not a normal diagnosis the most that could be done surgically would be applying similar procedures performed in humans. With the uncertainty of what would happen or what a meningocele even was I told the resident on the case, Dr. Jackson, that I would take the filly and let her live out her life regardless of how long or short it would be. At that point, Dr. Jackson decided that we could do more and worked with the neurology and surgery team at Purdue University College of Veterinary Medicine to remove the mass.

At 7 days old, the filly was cleared for surgery and the protrusion was carefully resected and a mesh titanium plate was placed over the craniotomy site. She recovered from surgery without complications and her neurologic status progressively improved. However, the filly was still not consuming enough calories, was suffering from aspiration pneumonia caused by dysphagia and endoscopic examination revealed moderate gastric ulceration. Upon discharge, she was prescribed antibiotics and a long term feeding tube was placed in order to rest her pharynx and ensure proper caloric intake and weight gain.

 Four days later I became the proud mother of the mini filly that I named Mouse. Given the prognosis that Mouse may only live 6 months and being unaware of the obstacles she would need to overcome I feared that her life would be cut short. I fed her through a tube every 2-4 hours, performed physical therapy to improve the laxity in her hind limbs and occasionally had to restrain her as she suffered from seizures. Since Mouse was an orphan and continually ripped out her nasogastric tube I had to figure out how to get her to start swallowing and eating solid foods. I met with a behaviorist who helped me reeducate Mouse on how to swallow using a clicker and peppermints and incorporated her love for cold soda cans by freezing equine senior feed in ice cubes. As crazy as it sounds, it worked and Mouse began eating and drinking on her own, gained vision back in her left eye and her seizures became few and far between.   

I would be lying if I said that I enjoyed every single moment of my atypical rehabilitation of Mouse. It was one of the most rewarding three months of my life, but also the most taxing. Despite the difficult moments, this experience is what I use as a constant reminder that there is a light at the end of the dark and stressful tunnel we call vet school. Mouse also helped me realize that I want to obtain a residency in large animal medicine and pay it forward to future “veterinary science projects” like her.

Mouse is now a healthy pain in the rear mini horse and will be turning 6 years old in July. I can only hope that my next 3 years of vet school and my career are just like my experiences with her, rewarding and perseverant.