March 17, 2005

My dog A. had surgery on Tuesday.

After an entire weekend during which she ate, tiny piece by tiny piece, exactly a quarter of a strip of turkey bacon (no fat, the vet said) over the course of five or six excruciating feedings, I couldn’t take it any more. The vet suggested she have a sonogram but couldn’t do it for a week, so he sent me to another vet–a Fifth Avenue vet. The new chi-chi vet said he suspected there was a foreign object in her gut and he wanted to do exploratory surgery to remove it. I was initially thrilled at the thought he might open up my dog and remove a samovar or perhaps a yurt, but this was not what he meant.

In the event, the exploratory surgery did not reveal a foreign object but it did reveal a couple other things going on inside. The vet fixed one of them right away and took biopsies of the other one to see if it was a problem or not.

E.S. and I (and my brother and his girlfriend) visited A. last night. She looked very happy, mostly because she was FLYING from the pain medication they were giving her.

I’ll find out soon if I can take her home today or if she has to stay in the hospital for more treatment, in which case the credit card I took out to pay for the surgery won’t be enough, and I’ll have to take out another one.

Keep your fingers crossed, please.

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