I'm hoping Lefty feels as well as I do this morning.
He's had a couple of rough days.
On Wednesday afternoon, Roxane, who owns the facility where he stays, described him as "puny." I was outside on the lawnmower picking up another batch of leaves when Bill came out and said Laurie had called and that Roxane had called her after not being able to connect with me.
"Did I have banomine?" Laurie had wondered.
Of course, I had banomine (an anti-inflammatory medication used for horses when they're not feeling great).
But where was my tube of banomine?
I knew I had some but had put it in a "safe" place after an earlier vet visit for CB this year.
Fortunately, Laurie had some, so we met over at Roxane's where Lefty was lying out in the sun, which is normal for horses, but he did look a bit puny.
So, Laurie took his temperature which was okay, listened to his tummy which was gurgling (a good sign when considering colic). Then, she fed him some banomine via a paste.
We spent some more time visiting with Roxane, and eventually Lefty perked up and began eating his hay.
That was a big relief for many reasons, one being that I was going to have surgery the next day. To have a sick horse---not a good thing.
Roxane kept us updated, letting us know in the evening that Lefty was eating hay and had peed and pooped (important for a horse not feeling well).
So, I went to bed, happy that Lefty seemed okay. I actually slept through the night, which is unusual for this Nervous Nellie.
In the morning, I kept myself busy, trying not to let my phobia for "all things medical which pertain to my body" kick in.
I had actually done a pretty good job of that when we loaded up the dogs and headed for the hospital.
Just as we pulled into the parking lot, I received a text from Roxane. Lefty was eating but obviously not feeling good.
Ugh!
Not the greatest news when you're headed to surgery and knowing you'll be out of commission for a few hours.
I quickly texted a note to Laurie, asking her if she could call a vet and send them to Roxane's.
Then, I walked into the hospital to check in, sign forms and carry those forms upstairs to "surgery."
This, by the way, was all very intimidating to my scaredy cat self, but I soldiered on, trying to remain calm.
Since the surgery was at the hospital, I was given one of those stylish gowns and some no-slide socks and some privacy to change.
Everything else went into a my personal possession bag. I could play with my phone because there might be some down time (not good for Marianne who is the worst anticipator on the planet) they said. So, I kept the phone handy.
As one who does not remember the only other hospital surgery I've ever had (tonsils in the same hospital back in 1953), I was impressed with all the friendly, professional attention and step-by-step precision of preparation for surgery.
My prep nurse Sara, a Lakeland High graduate, was the best. She knows how to carry on a conversation. And, she's a great listener while busily attaching all the tubes and needles and such.
There was concern about my blood pressure, which I knew would be high (white coat syndrome plus).
Sara assured me, though, that if I wasn't showing the symptoms that go along dangerously high blood pressure, things would probably work out.
While prep was still happening, various people (Dr. Torres, his tech Steve and Erin, the surgery nurse) came in and asked if I was Marianne Love, born June 25, 1947 and if I was getting my right eye done.
Yes, yes, yes, I must have said at least a dozen times from check-in to post surgery.
In the "procedure" room (it sounds a whole lot better than "surgery,"), Steve piped in some requested Irish music for my enjoyment.
More eye drops and a whole lot of equipment got hooked up or placed at various sections of my body.
Right before surgery, Erin, who was gonna give me the "happy sauce," cleaned out my eye and gave me a "facial" around the eye.
A grand announcement occurred once the "happy sauce" started flowing through my veins. Blood pressure had plummeted to a much lower high.
The "procedure" began.
Prior to surgery, I had almost wimped out and asked for the alternative to topical anesthesia in my eye, but nobody asked, so that meant I would be asked to follows some instructions----actually focusing on one of three lights that I could see.
I did my best, and Dr. Torres occasionally would say, "You're doing great."
One aspect I hadn't expected was that I'd be lying down for the cataract extraction. Bill sat up for his, and since Bill's experience was the one I'd heard about the most, I made a big mistake before surgery.
I had put my hair in a pony tail, thinking it would be better than having it falling all over the place and tickling my face far too often. At the time, I thought it was a wise strategy.
No more.
About half way through the procedure, the band area of the ponytail started pressing and almost digging into my skull. It was uncomfortable and almost unbearable, to say the least.
And, I moved my head to try to get some relief.
Bad Marianne.
Dr. Torres remained calm but explained that he was looking through a microscope and that any tiny movement for me was like an earthquake to him.
His gentle reprimand meant that I was gonna have to somehow deal with that discomfort, and that's when the rest of the half hour surgery began to seem like an eternity.
Somehow, I managed to restrain myself and eventually, everything was done. Equipment came off, stuff got untaped and then they turned the bed into a recliner. Erin wheeled me back to the prep room.
And, after a bunch of instructions and a bag filled with eye drops and sunglasses, they wheeled me out of there to meet Bill at the car.
That's when I learned that the vet for Lefty was still in Priest River and would drive to Roxane's when finished.
That interim gave me some time to grab the first food I'd had since 4:30 the day before and redirect my brain to start thinking about Lefty.
Bill drove me to Roxane's where Dr. Jaqueway and her tech Lisa had arrived. My sisters also came soon after and we went to see Lefty.
I've never seen him looking so sad. He was swollen all around his head. He had a temperature and his gums were beet red.
Dr. Jaqeway was afraid that he would have to be referred to WSU and that he may have something like sepsis.
It was a low moment for the three of us sisters who had each recently lost a dog--Barbara, on Sunday.
Add to that my brother who had lost both a cat and a horse while he had been in Tulsa with my sisters.
This situation looked like one more dirty blow.
Dr. Jaqeway persevered, using ultrasound and X-rays in hopes of ruling out the really bad possibilities and she did.
Finally, she announced, "He has a sinus infection." I think even Lefty perked up with that news. I know that I was ecstatic, even knowing there would be sticker shock.
Lefty is on antibiotics for the next eight days. He's eating and he's showing a lot more life than he did yesterday.
And, so it was quite a day with two patients---one with an almost certain good outcome; the other, not so possible.
A good ending to the day, for sure.
Today I can see things out of my right eye that I haven't seen for years. I'm adjusting to one much better eye and another which will be better next week.
And, this report just in from Roxane: gum color is almost totally normal, still a little pink (but I don't know what his normal looks like) and moist. Very alert and screaming. Ate all grain and dove into hay."
I'm so thankful for all the professionals, in both cases, and for my sisters and Roxane who care as much about sweet Lefty as I do.
Add to that good news: it's ZAGS game day. Tonight they take on Yale in the Kennel, and I'm looking forward to watching the game on television withOUT my glasses.
GO, ZAGS!
And, a very grateful thanks to all who contributed to two happy endings for Lefty and me yesterday.
Happy Friday.
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