Today was amputation day. My household got up at 6am (a few hours earlier than we are used to) in order to get Millie to U of I by 7:00. Poor Mil was sleepy. We had a quick "poop walk" & Millie put herself back to bed. She sprawled across the pillows & gave me a look like, "Mom. Seriously. The light?"
Evan & I showed up at U of I just before 7:00. We were clearly the first clients of the day, which is nice considering Mil isn't a big fan of other dogs. Our student & resident came out to greet us and also answer any last minute questions we had. They apologized to us and said we could no longer wait with Millie up front. An emergency had come in, so Millie's surgery had been bumped from #1 to #2. They expected to start sometime after 10:30am. I held it together & kissed my girl one more time. The surgeon said that I should expect a call when Millie was intubated & again when extubated. She wouldn't call during surgery unless something went wrong.
Just a few minutes after noon, our student called to say Millie had been intubated. They were about to give her an epidural & start prepping her leg for surgery. An hour later my phone rang. Helllllllo panic. It was the surgeon. Hellllllllllllllllllllo panic! She started the conversation by saying, "Hi Katie. This is Dr. ____. We found a nodule .....(insert longest pause in history).......on Millie's back. We think it's a cyst. Would you like it removed?" ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! A cyst?! For the love of all that is good and holy - my heart was in my throat. My response, "No, leave it. It's been there for as long as I can remember, it's been aspirated before -- and yes it is a cyst. How is surgery going?" They hadn't started yet. One HOUR later. What the hell was taking so long? Thank goodness I have a few "insiders" at the U of I. Friends checked on Millie throughout the surgery & texted updates. Just after 4:30 our student called again. Millie was extubated. She was recovering well & already trying to stand (though they were not allowing this). The surgery had gone well & exactly as they had expected. Phew.
Around 6:30pm the surgeon called with another update, but basically nothing new to report. Millie was resting comfortably. She had plenty of pain meds on board & was still recovering well. She was scheduled to go outside (attempt) at 8pm and 2am. They would also try to feed her at 8pm.
Tomorrow morning they will re-run bloodwork & see how she is doing on three legs. At that point they will decide how the day will play out. Will she need to stay another night? Will she need physical therapy? Can she go home?
I can finally relax a little, although I don't think I'll be at ease until she is back home. Shugs is loving the extra space on the bed, but we all miss Millie. I've seen this phrase listed over and over again during the past week - "Dogs are born with three legs and a spare." My Mil just got rid of that nasty spare. Good riddance.
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