In the 13 1/2 years we have had Sam in our family, we have obviously grown to know his quirks and idiosyncracies by heart. So it was with an odd sense of concern that 2 weeks or so ago we made a vet appointment with the symptoms of excessive whininess and "he's just not right". Sam's a "talker", lacking in the quiet "Lhasa Zen Buddhism" department that his vet Dr. Doub teases him about. So when his talking had become markedly more pronounced, we were quite concerned.
A bit of urinalysis and x-ray revealed the presence of a cluster of bladder stones in the poor guy's innards. Time to prep for a cystotomy.
Monday, January 21st, Chris drops him off at the vet for a front right leg catheter insertion and a day of fluids. (Then it's the task of occupying both himself and Maxie to prevent them from going nuts without Sam in the house. Not easy.) We bring him home and the vet says in her report that he managed to pull it out, so they'll just give him another on surgery day Tuesday the 22nd.
Monday night back home, and the little man is all tuckered out on the chair-and-a-half from his day of excitement. Time to go o-u-t-s-i-d-e before bedtime, and he doesn't want to get up. What? Bypassing a trip to his outer domain to peruse his kingdom infested with lowly squirrels, birds, and bunnies? Not like him. So he finally jumps off the chair and lands awkwardly. He doesn't want to put any weight on his right leg. And damn if it doesn't "look" funny too. Crap. It looks broken or dislocated. He won't put any weight on it and he's whimpering. It's close to 11pm and surgery is in the morning. What to do?
We make a late-night trip to
Carolina Veterinary Specialists, the emergency clinic vets who literally saved his life in February 2002 when he experienced his spinal cord infarct. His rear legs are already quite weak from the "stroke", so an injured front leg would only compound his ambulatory hiccups. It appears that a bolus of fluid had in fact seeped outside of the vein and underneath the skin, inflamming his knee and radiating upwards to his axillary region. Between the swelling and him pulling his leg inward it looked deformed. Poor guy. Luckily nothing was broken, so it's just pain meds and a night of rest.
...except that the homegoing hydromorphone they gave him really FREAKED him out and scared him. He did not like losing control over his psyche. Panting was a side effect, but little did we know that each and every pant would be accompanied by a high-pitched squeal and crying. It was like staying up with youir druggie friend who dropped the blue acid instead of the red acid. Made for a night of literally zero sleep. Well, I shouldn't say that. Between 3am and 6am Chris got a good 10 minutes dozing each hour. 8 hours at Walgreens was an over-caffeinated smorgasbord of stimulants to say the least. And to think, the doggie emergency room gave us a syringe of Buprenex to squirt under his tongue overnight for pain relief if needed. Yikes, not after his experience with the Dilaudid!
Tuesday morning comes and Sam is still weak and disoriented and cannot stand on his own. Shit. Another x-ray at the vet's pre-op shows the stones have migrated dangerously close to his urethtral parts, and dislodging them from there would NOT be fun for ANYBODY involved. Will we have to tank the surgery because of his leg?
By lunchtime, the vet reports that he's up to standing and on his leash is pulling the techs outside "towards the taxi stand" telling them it's time to go home. Not so fast little buddy. Surgery is on.
After work today, Chris and Kimberly made their way to the vet's to visit with the post-op patient. Sam was sitting up and groggy, but he was more alert than we were frankly expecting. We stayed and petted Sam for about a half-hour before leaving to let him rest. Maxie, freaking out in her own right because Sam hasn't been basically been around for the better part of two days, gave us the third degree when we arrived home.
The surgery went well. The removed stones were remarkably jagged and rough. A residual fetal tubule that once connected to the umblilicus was removed. His teeth were cleaned while he was under. He'll come home Wednesday afternoon with some antibiotics and just Tramadol for pain. No Dilaudid. No Buprenex. And most importantly, no painful stones jiggling around in his lower abdomen.
Wednesday and a full complement of Gordons under one roof cannot get here soon enough!
Never a dull moment in the House of Gordon.
