Medusa's Medical Bills
Donation protected
Medusa is my 9 year old Ball Python, and quite possibly the sweetest creature on Earth . I've had her in my life for four years, and I've loved her for every second of it. But last Sunday, her heating pad caught on fire.
It's going to be a long journey, and we need your help. It was 8am on Sunday morning when I woke up to an awful smell, and a smoke filled room. I sat up, and I looked instantly at Medusa's tub. The humidity is always high, so the sides of the tub we're usually hard to see past, but this time, I saw smoke billowing out of sides of her enclosure. I ran to the tub, and ripped it open. Smoke continued pouring out in a massive cloud, and Medusa was laying upside down, totally limp. I was crying and repeating, "No, no, no, no," as I pulled her out. I thought she was already gone. I knew instantly it was my fault. It was. The day before, I was in a rush to get to work (as it was only my second day), and I noticed her tub wasn't warm enough. I placed a towel under the heating pad to press it more firmly to the bottom of the tub. I meant to check it. I forgot. And for whatever reason, the thermostat never turned the heating pad off once the fire started, or even before hand. We're lucky the house didn't burn up. But I didn't feel very lucky as I held my long time pet, sure she was gone, begging her to wake up while my boyfriend handled the smoking heating pad. And then, she took a gasp. She wasn't moving at all, but I was sure she took a breath. A big, big breath. I rushed her outside into the clean air, sobbing, trying to make sure she hadn't just died. That she was still fighting. And she breathed again. And again. And again. And it sounded like the worst, most miserable wheezes as she had breathed that toxic smoke. But she was alive. She was rushed to the vet, where somehow, she continued to fight.
Over the next few hours, she gained back some mobility, and within a few days, she was moving just like her old self. But this journey is far from over. Medusa has developed burns on over 90% of her belly, and her breathing has gotten worse.
Two days ago, we rushed her to the vet at 1am, thinking she was going to suffocate, as she could hardly breathe at all. She is now on three different injectable medications, a burn cream, nightly soaks, and has wracked up a bill of over $1000. And this will be only the start of many, many more vet visits. Snakes have a very slow metabolism. They can go months without a single meal. But that also means that at any point in time, days, weeks, or even months, problems could arise that we never saw coming. That also means that there is no guarantee that Medusa will survive this with any level of medical care. But I can't give up on her. She's fought too hard, and she's too special. I'm setting a goal of $2000 right now to cover the existing bills, as well as those ahead. And if you can donate even a dollar, it really does help us. Everything helps. And if you can't donate, please, please share this on social media. I keep telling Medusa how sorry I am. I wish she could understand me.  
Her most recent x-rays:
What the front of her lungs look like
And this is what the back of her lungs look like, where the least damage was done . This is what it should all look like . Black space. But the above photo accounts for most of her lungs condition .
It's going to be a long journey, and we need your help. It was 8am on Sunday morning when I woke up to an awful smell, and a smoke filled room. I sat up, and I looked instantly at Medusa's tub. The humidity is always high, so the sides of the tub we're usually hard to see past, but this time, I saw smoke billowing out of sides of her enclosure. I ran to the tub, and ripped it open. Smoke continued pouring out in a massive cloud, and Medusa was laying upside down, totally limp. I was crying and repeating, "No, no, no, no," as I pulled her out. I thought she was already gone. I knew instantly it was my fault. It was. The day before, I was in a rush to get to work (as it was only my second day), and I noticed her tub wasn't warm enough. I placed a towel under the heating pad to press it more firmly to the bottom of the tub. I meant to check it. I forgot. And for whatever reason, the thermostat never turned the heating pad off once the fire started, or even before hand. We're lucky the house didn't burn up. But I didn't feel very lucky as I held my long time pet, sure she was gone, begging her to wake up while my boyfriend handled the smoking heating pad. And then, she took a gasp. She wasn't moving at all, but I was sure she took a breath. A big, big breath. I rushed her outside into the clean air, sobbing, trying to make sure she hadn't just died. That she was still fighting. And she breathed again. And again. And again. And it sounded like the worst, most miserable wheezes as she had breathed that toxic smoke. But she was alive. She was rushed to the vet, where somehow, she continued to fight.
Over the next few hours, she gained back some mobility, and within a few days, she was moving just like her old self. But this journey is far from over. Medusa has developed burns on over 90% of her belly, and her breathing has gotten worse.
Two days ago, we rushed her to the vet at 1am, thinking she was going to suffocate, as she could hardly breathe at all. She is now on three different injectable medications, a burn cream, nightly soaks, and has wracked up a bill of over $1000. And this will be only the start of many, many more vet visits. Snakes have a very slow metabolism. They can go months without a single meal. But that also means that at any point in time, days, weeks, or even months, problems could arise that we never saw coming. That also means that there is no guarantee that Medusa will survive this with any level of medical care. But I can't give up on her. She's fought too hard, and she's too special. I'm setting a goal of $2000 right now to cover the existing bills, as well as those ahead. And if you can donate even a dollar, it really does help us. Everything helps. And if you can't donate, please, please share this on social media. I keep telling Medusa how sorry I am. I wish she could understand me.  
Her most recent x-rays:
What the front of her lungs look like
And this is what the back of her lungs look like, where the least damage was done . This is what it should all look like . Black space. But the above photo accounts for most of her lungs condition .
Organizer
Shyann Marie Ross
Organizer
Harrington, DE