Testostergone

At 10:00am today, Gaurav brought Kayak in to be neutered. I had gone back and forth since I started at this veterinary thing as to whether or not I would watch my own dog's surgery. Pure interest in the surgery was completely out of the equation. The debate in my mind raged between being unable to handle the sight of my baby boy being sliced into with a scalpal and not being there if something were to happen. I previously delayed his surgery by a week because his tumor was but a little innocuous furry lump, and I was extremely concerned that his heartworm-ravaged heart would be unable to handle the stress of anesthetic. Five or so days after his originally scheduled surgery, however, his tumor decided to put on a show. It promptly grew a bit, lost it's fur, and eventually, broke open. Though I had a grand time bandaging my dog with gauze and tape, and generally babying him to excess, it was time to face the music. He needed that thing off his leg, and while we were at it, he could use a reduction in testosterone.

During the night before his surgery, I woke up a few times, my stomach in a knot. At 5 am, I woke up so fidgety and anxious that I thought I might throw up. When I tried to eat some breakfast, I could barely force it down. I gave up and took Kayak for a short walk. I didn't want to take him for a long one because then he would be thirsty, and I had been instructed to remove his food and water. After our brief frolic outside, Kayak looked for water, and finding none, crawled back into bed with Gaurav.

Once at the clinic, I could think of nothing but my dog. I was brieflyl able to focus on a few other patients, but my mind was clearly somewhere else. A few of my tech-friends took notice, and I told them my dog was coming in. Finally able to connect my anxious demeanor with an event, they assured me that he would be fine. This in fact did make me feel better.

He and Gaurav arrived and Kayak was weighed and injected with the pre-anesthetic. In a situation reminiscent of the chocolate lab that I over-empathized with, I felt slightly dizzy as Kayak became more disoriented. When he finally relaxed completely, closing his eyes, and they flipped him over to shave him, I was struck with a twinge of instantaneous horror. For the slightest nanosecond I was frozen between wanting to hug him and wanting to hid my face. Then, catching on that I was the only person (besides perhaps Gaurav) who was having a tiny freakout in my head, I relaxed. In retrospect, though I had relaxed, I was not thinking objectively yet. My process thinking had gone completely out the window, and I had no idea what to do next with an anesthetized dog, even though I had seen many before. What I was supposed to do was to roll him over on his back so we could shave his fur. I instead nearly took him directly to the operating table. But I realized I was totally clueless before I did that. Then I just stepped back and let the techs take over. I redirected my attention to obsessing about his breathing, perfusion, and heart rate. The removal of his testicles was interesting. Since he had had them for quite a while, they were pretty well entrenched, and didn't WANT to be removed. Gaurav looked slightly horrified during the process. After Doc stitched his castration incision, a tech scrubbed his leg. The tumor removal was VERY cool. I've seen the inside of my dog's leg. How many people can say that? Well, I suppose just about anybody with a weimeraimer has seen their dog's insides at some point. Or at least their remote has. But I digress. After Doc cut out the tumor, he showed me how close a REALLY big artery was to the tumor. He said that the could feel it pulsate. That was also pretty neat. The techs were really great through the whole thing, they kept telling me that he was fine. After his leg was stitched up, he started to come out of it a bit, whining and moaning. It was the worst noise ever to hear. Since he had yet to go get his teeth cleaned, they gave him a little more anesthetic to keep him under. His teeth weren't that dirty, and while the tech was cleaning them, I clipped his nails. Because I was feeling so bad about his moaning and shivering, I completely forgot that he even HAD dewclaws, until the tech pointed out that I had forgotten them. My anxiety level at this point was reaching a fever pitch, because Kayak was shivering and twitching and moaning and whimpering and it was horrible to see him like that. I just wanted him HOME. NOW. But I had Doc microchip him while he was under, and then they put the bandage on his leg. Then we finally got to load him in the truck. They loaned us a blanket to wrap him in. Halfway home I dashed back to ask for pain meds, I had totally forgot, and there was no way I wanted him to be un-pain-medicated. Once home, I carried him in to the center of the living room floor, and layed down next to him. I then proceeded to spend about 5 hours dozing on the floor with him, comforting him as he woke up and whimpered and looked around, confused. I adjusted his blanket and took it off him when he started to get hot and cry. We had gotten home around 1, and around 4:30 or 5, he tried some unsteady steps, but soon fell asleep again. Around 6, he had managed a few short distances, and was attempting to be velcro dog, following me everywhere. I finally got some food down into my own turmoiled stomach at this time, and we settled in to watch some T.V. By night-time, he jumped up on the bed with us to sleep, and the next morning, he was back to his normal personality, though a bit tired and sore. He's doing great now, but he got really tired chasing a rabbit the other day. He even had to sit down afterwards to rest and catch his breath. I'm thinking he'll be all set in a couple weeks.