Have We Learned Anything Over the Last Ten Years?
by Chris Cebra, VMD, MA, MS, DACVM-LA

About two weeks ago, over the course of a couple of days, I discharged four camelids from the clinic (Large Animal Internal Medicine at Oregon State University). All had come in without appetites, thin as rails and at least two could not stand. Two had severe coccidial infections of a type conventionally thought to be benign, one had a red blood cell count about one-sixth the normal and the other had blood values more fitting of a pickle jar than an animal. All four are home and doing well. One has already gained back ten pounds.

The thing that struck me most as I signed off on the discharges was not what a good job we had done, but rather how ten years ago, all four of those camelids would have died. At one point, survival for camelids unable to rise on admission to the clinic was less than 5%, with a fair number of those camelids dying during the initial work-up. Prognosis for inappetant camelids was not much higher. In the meantime, we’ve learned more about their diseases, treatment techniques that do more good than harm, and how to minimize stress during the most critical periods. Some of our advances have come through trial and error in the clinic. Others have come from research.

It is amazing to think how far-ranging the applications of our research have become. Dr. Susan Tornquist opened all our eyes to the pervasiveness of fatty liver, formerly thought to be a disease of the pregnant and lactating. I followed with a series of studies whose titles drip esoteria and rival each other for convoluted verbage. I am frequently asked what is the relevance of these studies? Fat mobilization, glucose clearance, cell surface transporters, hormonal stimulation or suppression: what do any of them mean to a sick camelid? At this juncture, I need only point to the four camelids mentioned above.

In the past, many of the camelids we saw had vague illnesses that were frustratingly progressive. Weight loss and lack of appetite drove the downward spiral. Drops in blood cell counts and protein marked the decline. Recumbency, mental depression and respiratory distress were the final signs. Nothing seemed to help.

We still face this problem, but on a smaller basis. We are able to classify more of these camelids into individual syndromes. Dr. Tornquist’s lab has added blood tests that show us exactly where energy pathways are disrupted. Experience has shown us what these blood tests mean. And this is where the research kicks in. We now have a better idea how to support these sick camelids through their illness.

While we cannot always understand and specifically treat the main disease, at least we can give the patient a fighting chance to get over it by themselves. This s a holistic approach – “holistic” is often used as a buss word of non-traditional medicine, but we all look at the whole animal – and it seems to work.

We certainly cannot work miracles. I still have nothing to offer for the camelid with a ruptured stomach ulcer or advanced cancer of fluke disease, but we can keep on getting better at what we do and making sure the highest percentage of camelids that could survive are given every opportunity to do so.

Reprinted from The Lama Letter, August 2005, newsletter of the Pennsylvania Llama & Alpaca Association who reprinted it from CCLA Newsletter, Vol. 14 No. 1, Winter 2004. Originally in the Llama Letter, January 2004.