If you've been following along for a little while now, you know that my dog was having issues with walking and with the strength in her front legs. If not, then check out parts one and two below:
Last week I toughened up and took her back to the neurologist for surgery. She had two discs removed from her spine. These were putting pressure on her spinal cord which is what was causing the issues and pain. I was completely fine up until we got to the doctor's office. You know that weird nauseous feeling you get in your guts sometimes? The one that feels like you're vibrating? That's what I was feeling when I dropped her off.
We got into the office and the gal behind the desk talked me through the policies and the paperwork and the deposit. She made sure I had all the phone numbers I could need should I want to get in touch with them. This is about the time that I started crying. It was one of those times where my eyes just spontaneously combusted and there was nothing I could do to stop the tears from falling. The woman was very understanding as I handed my puppers over to her.
Then, somehow, I was supposed to just get in my car and drive directly to work. I was going to have to pretend that everything was totally cool and that I wasn't distracted all day long. The surgery to remove the discs went perfectly. A nurse called me midday to tell me this and that the doctor would follow up in an hour or so. I went back to my desk and tried not to cry with relief. Then, hours went by. Three and a half hours to be specific. No call from the doctor. I had been in a meeting for most of that time so when I was done I called them. He was absolutely going to call me back in an hour. Then, it's 5:30 and I still haven't heard from him. I'm still being told that my dog is fine but the doctor will call me in an hour. By 7:30 I had run out of patience without much recourse. I called the overnight hospital where my dog was supposed to be staying and they took me through a few more details than I had before, but again assured me that she was OK.
The next day was moderately better. A call from the doctor himself! Finally! He tells me she's doing really well and just resting. I ended up calling a few more times throughout the day to check in on her. Always OK. Good.
The anxiety of not having her in the house with me was a lot to handle. I have a low level anxiety issue on a regular day so adding to it didn't help anything. When you're home with your pet you don't necessarily notice the energy they produce. It's something that you're used to. For me the emptiness of the house wasn't so much palpable, because that implies a thickness. Having her not home created a quiet void...an emptiness. The emptiness made me feel extra lazy and depressed.
I got to bring her home after forty-eight hours of stress. I finally get her in my arms and she's still pretty drugged up and so she wasn't entirely sure what was happening. That is until she got in the car and decided she needed to roam all over the car. Then in true Florida fashion is starting storming like crazy on the drive home. My stoned little dog curled into a shaking ball in the backseat as I tried to get us home as quickly as possible and in one piece.
Once home we rested. That was a Thursday. I was able to work from home the next day and all of the next week. Working from home is a dream come true anyway and I'm incredibly grateful to my boss for letting me do it. She's definitely been feeling better so she's thinks she can go and jump around now. Apparently I was supposed to keep her confined this last week but all they really told me was keep her calm.
When we went to get the stitches out they told me she could be on "room rest" and short walks. Oh…well, we've already been doing that. Hmph. Now I'm paranoid again. Every time she gets up, I'm looking for a limp or weakness that isn't there. The main issue is with me coming home. Yesterday I left to get the oil changed in the car and came back and she got so excited she was doing that thing she does when she flings herself everywhere.
This is when I wish that dogs understood logic. To where I can sit her down and talk it out. Tell her to take it easy. That she's got a couple more weeks of recovery and that she needs to calm down. Even then I doubt she'd listen.
I'm just glad that the surgery was a success and that the weakness in her leg and the constantly swelling in her neck is gone. I hate that it took so long and so much money to fix it but at least she's better. That's the most important part.