A Veterinary Journal by Claire Poole
February
Chapter 2 - Page 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Tuesday 10th February
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Tuesday 10th February
I am sitting on my rock at the top of the hill watching the sun go down. There is a misty haze over the hills on the opposite side of the river, and the sky is turquoise, hightlighted with purple-grey streaks of cloud. A pheasant chirrs in the wood behind and the dogs rummage diligently in the undergrowth. At last I begin to unwind after an exceptionally busy day. Tuesdays are our operating day for one of the local animal charities and are always busy. The charity believes in neutering all animals before they go to homes, and they have recently been inundated with unwanted litters of pups. Perhaps their policy will help to reduce the numbers of unwanted animals in the future. Three of today’s youngsters spent their first 12 weeks shut in a cupboard and need much tender loving care to bring them out of their shells. We handle them very gently as they are still nervous, and are rewarded by wagging tails. As nurse Julie observes, the anaesthetic hits the waggy tails last and wears off there first.
As well as our quota of routine operations, we have had an extra case today - a little terrier first seen 3 days ago with gastro enteritis. Treatment was given at the time, and an appointment was made for Saturday. When she didn’t show on Saturday, we assumed that all was well. Unfortunately, poor Cassie has continued to vomit all weekend and is now quite seriously ill and very miserable. Occasionally, owners do not turn up for check ups, and we expect that the patient must be fully recovered. We are at a loss to explain why they stay away when the animal is still ill. Perhaps the possible expense worries the owners, but it always costs more to regain lost ground than to treat early in an illness.
Anyway, Cassie has been admitted for intensive treatment and investigation. Earlier today, she was connected to a drip to replace the fluids she had lost, then an x-ray was taken. This showed a suspicious amount of gas in her intestines which is suggestive of a foreign body, so an exploratory operation is next on the diagnostic trail. No foreign body is to be found, but the entire gut is very inflammed and the local lymph nodes massively swollen. We take biopsies (samples of abnormal tissues for microscopic analysis), blood and faeces samples which go to our local diagnostic laboratory. Meantime, Cassie will continue on intensive care until we get some results. She is given antibiotics, a painkiller, vitamins and an anti-vomiting drug, and will be kept on the drip to provide fluid and rest her gut. If the vomiting eases off, she will be offered small quantities of a special recovery diet - this is a palatable food, easily digestible and containing more energy than similar quantities of ordinary dog food.
Although every vet is slightly disappointed that exploratory surgery does not yield immediate answers, it is quite surprising how many patients will pick up after the surgery. It may be simply that the anaesthetic gives valuable respite from the pain; it has even been explained that the surgical incision corresponds to acupuncture points thus effecting a recovery. Whatever the reason, any improvement is always gratefully received and we fervently hope for such a response from Cassie.
So, today has been very long. My colleague Linda has been booked to do evening surgery as I am due to attend a veterinary meeting in Edinburgh tonight. These meetings are important for keeping up to date, but tonight I am playing truant. The vet school will send on the notes and I have heard the lecturer before. Little Cassie is settled in a warm kennel, more comfortable than before but still in need of regular care and attention over the night to come.
The dogs have been patient all day and have thoroughly enjoyed their late outing. It is lovely that it is still light at 5.30 p. m. The long, dark nights of winter are finally over. As I sit winding down, the sky darkens gradually and the lights of the farm twinkle in the distance. While I walk past the deer pen on the way home, Honky the stag (so called because he is white) stands his ground and stares at us, protective of his hinds and hopeful for a few carrots or apples. ‘None today, I’m afraid’ - and I head down the hillside, looking forward to a glass of wine in front of the blazing woodburner.
Copyright Claire Poole 2005
