Farming isnât always pretty â Vikki's Case
This is one of those posts people donât like to write, but they need to be written anyway. Viki aborted at day 26. By the time I got to her, I already knew what I was walking into. The kits had been dead for daysâlikely around day 21â23âand she was now stuck trying to pass them. Water had already broken, and she was covered in that rank, sour smell that tells you things have gone wrong long before you got there. At that point, you donât stand there hoping it fixes itself. You get to work. I cleaned her up firstâchlorhexidine around the vulva just to get ahead of the contamination as much as possibleâthen gloved up and started checking. Palpation, checking the canal, making sure nothing was lodged. You have to know whatâs in there before you start pushing anything. If somethingâs stuck and you force contractions, youâll tear her up. She was already sitting in infection risk, so I gave Penicillin G. This is why we keep a relationship with a vet and keep meds on handâbecause thereâs no time to go hunting for it when youâre standing in the middle of something like this. Once I knew nothing was blocking, I used oxytocin to help her clear. Tiny dose. Wait. Watch. Recheck. She needed a second round before everything finally started moving the way it should. While all of this was going on, I was trying to keep her steady. I mixed up a slurryâcrushed Tums, sugar, probiotics, and added a little plain yogurt to make it something sheâd actually take. I syringed about 6 cc into her cheek pocket first, just to make sure something got into her, then offered the rest in an eggshell. She took to the shell on her ownâchewing, licking at it, getting a little more calcium in her system without me having to force it. Sometimes thatâs the difference. Getting them to participate instead of just fighting them. Because when theyâre under that kind of strain, they can crash fast. If calcium drops, contractions weaken. If contractions weaken, nothing clears. And then youâre in real trouble.