Prepared

I prepare for things.  Some have told me I over-prepare, but those who have benefitted from me having dental floss in my "magic bag," baby wipes in the car, and an extra phone charger in my suitcase are thankful.  It has been said, "You want her with you when you go anywhere," and I love that.  Sometimes there is pressure to think of everything, but it is really pressure I put on myself to be prepared for adventures, events, outings and emergencies.

How does one prepare for a splenectomy?  Good Lord, I read everything I could find on recovery, planned where we would sleep, packed water, snacks, the ramp, the inflatable e-collar, and my Steno notebook of questions.

I've been able to stay with all of my dogs through many procedures over many ailments and years.  I was prepared that I wouldn't be able to stay with Foster during this one.  We were able to stay with him as the Propofol went in, and we were allowed to see his spleen once it was removed, but we weren't allowed to be with him as he woke up from anesthetic.  That was upsetting to me, and then I wasn't prepared for how strongly he would walk out of recovery and wag his tail upon seeing us.  He nearly trotted to me and buried his head under my chin as I knelt down to stabilize him.

My Fosse's shaved skin matches his hair.

We were prepared for the challenge of getting Foster in and out of the car.  He is a jumper and does not like the ramp.  I think it's his independence.  The ramp is not rickety, it's just not the same as jumping, and he wants no part of it, in or out of the car.  The whole experience of getting him home was challenging, but we were prepared that the usual 40-minute trip would take much longer.  There was obstinance and painful moaning, but we did it.  We did it.

I was prepared for Foster to not want to eat or drink, and I should have been prepared for his amazing mobility, but I was still surprised that he wanted to walk around for four hours straight.  This seems to happen with all of our dogs.  Maybe it happens with everyone's dogs.  We're always told that our dog will sleep for several hours, even days, and not have pain due to the injectable whatever.  Well, Foster cried and moaned on the way home, but was so tired his tongue was hanging out of his mouth, and his swallowing reflex was low, creating anxiety for me to give him the Tramadol prescribed for "add on" pain relief.  And even though he was that tired, he would not stop moving.

He finally laid down at about 10:30pm, was up a few times, changed location a few times, and was up for the day at 7am.  I think we are what may be described as an "active" family.  I shouldn't have been surprised.  No big deal.  It wasn't a sleepless night, and we've had a lot of those.  We're always prepared for that.

Fosse prefers to be wedged to rest.

The surgery was thankfully uneventful.  The largest tumor was bigger than a golf ball, but slightly smaller than a lacrosse ball.  His entire spleen will be analyzed, and we should hear the pathology and immunocytology results in 7-10 days.  Foster's staples come out in about 2 weeks.  I am still formulating The Pack's complete nutritional plan, and once Foster is healing from this Divine Detour, we will continue with the Healing Plan.  We will heal Foster Dog.

In the last 18 hours, Foster has had a few naps, a few small walk abouts, one Tramadol in an Applegate turkey sausage, and a few laps of water.  He's just hanging out and healing.  We do not have to be separated until 11:15am tomorrow.  I am prepared for this great day.  I am Team Foster Dog.

Sleeping