Christine McFadden: Mind bending revised
So if everything comes out all mumbo-jumbled it’s because that’s how the week went and that’s how I have to share it.
On Monday a little dog came in from a rescue group, all tousled golden hair that would set you back a couple hundred dollars at a hair salon in Southern California.
She was sent to Merced for a spay surgery and to repair an inguinal hernia.
Inguinal hernias are far less common than umbilical hernias. A hernia is a hole in the abdominal wall that allows your insides to leak outside. If the hole forms in the belly button area, because the umbilical cord tissue didn’t close properly, it’s called an umbilical hernia.
There is a canal that allows structures, including nerves and vessels, to pass from the abdomen into the lower legs. If this inguinal canal is too lax, it allows abdominal contents to leak out: an inguinal hernia.
Some fancy pants veterinarian had quoted $5,000 to repair the hernia in the Bay Area. I don’t know if that included the ovariohysterectomy (spay) or not, which she needed for lots of reasons, not least that she had been through a false pregnancy and was lactating. Embarrassing!
So someone in the greater rescue circle directed them to us and even trying my darndest (that line item “airplane ticket to Hawaii” was regretfully deleted when all the staff added in their plane tickets and it got too big to hide) we were woefully undercutting them. The dog stayed for surgery, scheduled for Tuesday.
On Tuesday an emergency surgery bumped the inguinal hernia surgery to Wednesday. Only so many hours in a day.
Tuesday was a train wreck. Among other things, a Great Dane presented for bloody diarrhea and oh yes, some kind of fainting episode. Fainting can be related to a seizure disorder or a heart problem called syncope.
This dog’s heart sounded fine. We began a GI work-up, took a couple of X-rays. Nothing exciting. Walked the dog back to his kennel and he fell over dead.
Daniel, the RVT (Registered Veterinary Technician) walking him couldn’t find a heartbeat and began CPR. We gave emergency rescue drugs and the dog began to breathe. Within five minutes he was on his feet.
We were stunned and brought him back to the treatment area where we could stare at him while waiting for our collective heart beats to return to normal.
Tuesday’s caseload also included a raccoon from the zoo, two wheezing chickens, an African Grey parrot with low blood calcium, a chinchilla with an eye infection and a guinea pig with an abscess. I remember there was an old cat losing weight and a couple dogs in for allergies and vaccinations. It’s all a little blurry now.
On Wednesday I went in early to start the inguinal hernia surgery. What should have been a slam-dunk went south when she turned purple before even being prepped. Her heart never stopped beating but rescue meds were given and she responded quickly and beautifully.
We were going through more rescue drugs than I’d used in the last two years and I was starting to take it personally. We scrapped that surgery and worked on the guinea pig instead. Guinea pig did great.
Chewing over the purple dog incident, the only thing that made sense was that perhaps the endotracheal tube had been seated too deeply and slipped into one bronchi, effectively oxygenating only half her lungs. She, herself, felt perky, tossing her golden curls around while we re-scheduled her surgery for the following day. I nick-named her Goldilocks.
I took the rest of Wednesday off. I needed chocolate!
Thursday I returned to tackle that inguinal hernia once more. I changed her pre-med and we switched sizes on the endotracheal tube. Voila! Everything textbook normal.
We patched her up and she went home that afternoon, curls blowing in the wind, looking like life was good and pain medicine even better.
The Great Dane also went home. The owners decided not to seek a referral to a cardiologist. His bowel problems had resolved and there had been no further fainting spells.
Me, just hook me up to some chocolate CRI (Constant rate of infusion) IV!