Lisa Bocchiaro spent thousands of dollars trying to cure her African grey of aspergillosis.

ONE EVENING last fall, Lisa Bocchiaro noticed that her parrot, Sampson, sounded a little hoarse, as if he were coming down with a cold. At first, Bocchiaro was not too concerned. After all, Sampson was a robust bird named for his size. When he was only seven weeks old, still a pinfeathered baby, the veterinarian had pronounced him larger than 95 percent of the African grey population.

But Bocchiaro whisked Sampson to the local emergency veterinarian anyway, just in case. Little did she know it would be the beginning of a medical, financial and emotional ordeal she will never forget.

Sampson was tentatively diagnosed with aspergillosis, a fungal infection that causes respiratory problems. It was bad news on several fronts for Bocchiaro, a manicurist with severe asthma who depends on Medicaid to help her get by.

Aspergillosis, thought to be caused by environmental molds, can be extremely difficult to cure in birds. Sampson, a gift from Lisa's boyfriend, George, would have to undergo stressful treatments. Then there was the expense. On her limited income, Bocchiaro could ill afford big veterinarian bills.

Over the next two months, as Bocchiaro made the rounds of half a dozen avian vets, the bills would pile higher than she ever could have imagined.

The credit card dance
To pay for Sampson's first few visits to the doctor, Bocchiaro wrote checks totaling $838. When Sampson was referred to the well-regarded Animal Medical Center in New York and Bocchiaro had to pay $1,000 upfront, she began using a credit card.

At the hospital, Sampson underwent three surgeries to remove growths doctors thought might be blocking his airway. In between operations, Sampson breathed a special medicated mist twice a day and took massive doses of oral antifungals and antibiotics.

Sampson's treatment included a shunt placed directly into an air sac to help him breathe.

When Sampson could no longer breathe on his own, doctors installed a shunt directly into an air sac via a hole in the bird's body. Without the shunt Sampson struggled to breathe, making terrible gurgling sounds.

As the number of surgeries grew to eight, including shunt replacements, Bocchiaro began to wonder if she was doing the right thing.

"The doctors did give me the option once to not let him wake up, but I said no, not without me there. By the time I arrived he was back up eating, playing and wanting to be held," she said.

Looking for help
It wasn't long before Bocchiaro maxed out all three of her credit cards. She had trouble coming up with the gas and parking money needed for the 110-mile daily roundtrip from New Jersey to be with Sampson, whom doctors said did better when she was there, cuddling him.

When Bocchiaro couldn't get a bank loan, she begged money from friends and relatives and anyone else she thought might help. She even e-mailed well-known MIT researcher and African grey trainer Irene Pepperberg and bird-food company founder Dr. Greg Harrison, who sent sympathetic replies.

Because Sampson's prognosis was guarded, not "guaranteed", the animal hospital turned down Bocchiaro's request for financial aid.

The hospital did approve Bocchiaro for up to $4,000 from its line of "credit care". Bocchiaro declined at first, aghast at the finance charge of 23 percent, but finally relented. "It was a choice between taking the credit or simply letting him die," she said.

Sadly, in the end, Bocchiaro's and the doctors' best efforts were not enough. On Dec. 7, after seven weeks of treatments and 20 days in the animal hospital, Sampson died at home in Bocchiaro's arms as she sang to him, "You Are My Sunshine."

Sampson's final medical bill: almost $7,000.

Long-lasting debt
Bocchiaro cannot say enough good things about the AMC vets, who still send her sympathy cards. At one point, Bocchiaro was so afraid she couldn't afford to continue Sampson's treatment that she asked one of his doctors to adopt him.

"I broke down, and the doctor held my hand to comfort me and said yes, that they would help any way they could.

Sampson in happier, healthier times.

"Now I know firsthand the desperation, fear, and helplessness of a mother who cannot afford to help her child," she said.

Bocchiaro also is grateful to all who have tried to help her pay Sampson's outstanding medical bills, including two nonprofit organizations, IMOM and United Animal Nations.

She is not sorry for pulling out all the stops in trying to save her pet. If any bird could have beaten aspergillosis, she says, it would have been Sampson. "He was strong, a fighter. He was healthy in every other respect."

And Sampson was young, with a bright future ahead of him. Only 2 1/2 years old when he died, he was still a youngster for an African grey, a breed that can live 50 years or longer.

If it would mean giving her beloved companion another chance at the long life he was meant to have, she would spend all the money again, says Bocchiaro. "I would do anything to spend more time with him. He was my world."

Instead, she faces a mountain of debt. She still owes $4400 to the hospital and her credit card companies, an amount she says will take years to pay off.

At one point, while sitting in a veterinarian's waiting room, Bocchiaro leafed through a brochure for pet insurance, but dismissed the idea after seeing that it paid only a few hundred dollars for Sampson's condition. "It's too bad all they would be willing to pay was $400," she said.

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