Thanks to a very generous friend in my playgroup, the Big Giraffe and I just got back from visiting Gandalf sans kids. Originally I had planned to bring our older son (OS), but as soon as the thought formed in my mind, I banished it. The last time he and I had to leave one of our cats at the vet for tests, I thought that the vet was going to have to give OS a sedative to get him out of the animal clinic. He was completely hysterical that the cat wasn't coming home with us for a couple of hours. I can't imagine his reaction to an overnight stay.
Gandalf is doing much better. He's still over at the vet school where they're monitoring him. He's scheduled for an ultrasound on Wednesday, but we hope he can do that as an outpatient. When we saw him this evening, he was back to his usual self. He even checked out the garbage can, and for some reason the printer in the visiting room. He also delivered several hearty barks to the cats who were carried passed the door. It looks like he did have a partial GDV that untwisted itself. The vet said that no one will never know for sure. However, when she compared the x-rays at the animal clinic to the x-rays at the hospital, that was her best explanation for the difference. I'm really hoping that he'll be able to come home tomorrow evening. It's lonely here without him. I'm used to him following me everywhere. Plus now I have to actually sweep the crumbs off of the floor.
Thank you all for your comments and emails. I really appreciate them. For those of you who I know in my real life, I appreciated the phone calls as well.
Of course there were almost 24 hours of mayhem between my post last night and our visit to Gandalf. Last night, right after posting, I got a call from my cousin with whom I hadn't spoken in months. She was part my childhood posse who used to eat breakfast with Santa Claus. Apparently she and my aunt were nostalgic for those times, so this past weekend they went and ate breakfast with Santa again. It wasn't as much fun as they remembered, probably since they didn't have anyone under the age of 27 with them. I thought it was interesting that we were all thinking about it.
I told my cousin all about being homesick and obviously about our dog. We had a nice conversation. However she did point out that a sobbing woman all by herself in a vet hospital with her own stretcher means one thing: crazy cat lady. Looking back on it, she's totally right. We had a good laugh over that one. The people had no idea that I was there with a dog since he was being treated. The thought of what the other patrons must have thought when I was holding my own stretcher still makes me laugh. Who the heck owns their own veterinary stretcher? I must have looked like a nut.
Feeling totally drained from yesterday's events and battling the onset of a cold for the past few days, I decided to take a Tylenol PM and call it a night after getting off the phone. I didn't even bother to try and make my crack of dawn spinning class this morning. I went instead to the later class. I figured a bit of extra rest might help me to present a more sane appearance. As we were waiting for the door to the spinning room to be unlocked, I realized that not only had I not changed into my gym socks, but I was wearing bright Halloween socks. With my biking shorts, it was pretty obvious. Of course I had to run into three people I knew too. I guess there's a little bit of crazy cat lady in us all. At least that's what I would like to believe. OK please don't tell me if I'm wrong! It's been a rough couple days.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Sleep does not cause sanity.
Glad your dog is on the mend. Hope you can fend off the cold. A hot toddy always does the trick for me. And if I do end up getting the cold, I just keep the hot drinks flowing.
I'm so glad Gandalf is doing well! I have done the sobbing drive from vet office to vet school with the hours and hours of sobbing waiting room time. Mine did not end well, but I'm so glad yours did!
Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.
oh hon. Love and kisses to the dog and to you.