Imbolc Valentine Moon
Yesterday Kate and I went into the operational area of the vets to watch Vega’s wound get bandaged. Kate will have to replace the bandage three times over the weekend. The surgical wound had an opening next to it about 3 inches in diameter, revealing muscle underneath.
Kate asked to help and was directed to the drawer with the gloves. She put one on and held the bandage in place with one experienced finger while the vet put in anchoring stitches that would hold tie downs for the bandage. She looked so complete there, familiar with the operating room as she is from years as an operating nurse and nurse anesthetist. It was a pleasure to see.
She and the vet talked medicine while he sewed, putting in six anchoring stitches around the wound. He explained that dogs metabolize anesthetics differently than humans. They have, he said, sticky blood, so the dosage of, say, dilaudid, used in a dog would do serious injury to a comparably sized human. When giving Kate some injectable dilaudid, he also explained there was no need to swab the injection site with alcohol. No way to sterilize fur.
Vega meanwhile was under a blue paper cover, a hole cut in it approximating the area around the site where the vet worked, and on a metal table about chest height. As the vet put in the 5th of the 6 stitches, her tail began to wag. She had begun to come to.
She’s been through a lot since the amputation. Visits to the vet. Probing and debriding of the wound and it’s recent opening. I can tell she’s tired of it and wants a return to normal life. Unfortunately, not for a while.