I'm always anxious on this day. I know the doctors do these surgeries every day, often several times a day. Nevertheless I still find it unsettling that it's a member of my family, or in this case two members, going under the knife.
Yes, it is Spay Day.
I've never lost a pet on the table, but I lost several animals under anesthesia during my animal care days, from a small screech owl to an adult female cougar. Our vet does blood tests prior to the surgeries to look for potential problems, which appeases me a bit. In Velcro's case, I'm still anxious about the fact that we almost lost her twice when she was little. Granted, she's much healthier now, but I won't be totally comfortable until they're both home and walking with wobbly footsteps around the living room, with the older cats following them and hissing because of the stink of vet's office.
Currently the whole feline population of our house is awake because I am, and all six faces have looked at me quizzically asking when I'll replace the food and water dishes. I keep telling them they'll get their bowls back in the morning, but even though they've learned to grasp some human communication, they still don't comprehend the way we measure time.
They don't have to wait much longer, maybe an hour or so, just until the girls are in their crate. I brought that upstairs yesterday afternoon and everyone has jumped on top of it, slithered behind it (Cheetah did that just to be different) or crawled inside. After the third time Velcro crawled in and got comfortable, I told her she was a bit too early. Neko, who has always had a fetish for cat carriers, also spent quite a while lying inside; of course, he's less fond of them after the door closes and the car engine starts up.
They're not the only reason I'm awake. In fact I don't think I've ever been so nervous that I've stayed awake the night before an animal's surgery before. I'm awake now because I slept for about 36 hours from Tuesday night through Thursday morning.
I'm not being lazy--in fact, I'm still dealing with my respiratory issues. The odd congestion in my chest has led to shortness of breath, wheezing, runny nose, sneezing--you name it. Of course, I got the symptoms all out of order, with your basic cold finally kicking in early this week. After my Fibro Doc gave me the homeopathic treatments for my headaches, I visited my family doctor who prescribed antibiotics that I may or may not have needed. I've also taken three types of cough medicine, decongestants, expectorants, antihistimines, and most recently I got an inhaler to help me catch my breath again. This is on top of my regular regimen of medicines, of course. A coworker jokingly called me a drug addict one day while I was taking some of my remedies, and I admit that for awhile I felt like a hypocondriac. I couldn't take everything at once, so the homeopathic remedies went ignored while I took the antibiotics, and again while I've been dealing with the breathing issues. Since I got home from work Tuesday I've been under blankets trying to stay extra warm and trying to shake this. After all, three weeks of this is long enough.
Almost that time--the alarm clock has rung to wake James. Maybe when we get back I can take a nap.
Yes, it is Spay Day.
I've never lost a pet on the table, but I lost several animals under anesthesia during my animal care days, from a small screech owl to an adult female cougar. Our vet does blood tests prior to the surgeries to look for potential problems, which appeases me a bit. In Velcro's case, I'm still anxious about the fact that we almost lost her twice when she was little. Granted, she's much healthier now, but I won't be totally comfortable until they're both home and walking with wobbly footsteps around the living room, with the older cats following them and hissing because of the stink of vet's office.
Currently the whole feline population of our house is awake because I am, and all six faces have looked at me quizzically asking when I'll replace the food and water dishes. I keep telling them they'll get their bowls back in the morning, but even though they've learned to grasp some human communication, they still don't comprehend the way we measure time.
They don't have to wait much longer, maybe an hour or so, just until the girls are in their crate. I brought that upstairs yesterday afternoon and everyone has jumped on top of it, slithered behind it (Cheetah did that just to be different) or crawled inside. After the third time Velcro crawled in and got comfortable, I told her she was a bit too early. Neko, who has always had a fetish for cat carriers, also spent quite a while lying inside; of course, he's less fond of them after the door closes and the car engine starts up.
They're not the only reason I'm awake. In fact I don't think I've ever been so nervous that I've stayed awake the night before an animal's surgery before. I'm awake now because I slept for about 36 hours from Tuesday night through Thursday morning.
I'm not being lazy--in fact, I'm still dealing with my respiratory issues. The odd congestion in my chest has led to shortness of breath, wheezing, runny nose, sneezing--you name it. Of course, I got the symptoms all out of order, with your basic cold finally kicking in early this week. After my Fibro Doc gave me the homeopathic treatments for my headaches, I visited my family doctor who prescribed antibiotics that I may or may not have needed. I've also taken three types of cough medicine, decongestants, expectorants, antihistimines, and most recently I got an inhaler to help me catch my breath again. This is on top of my regular regimen of medicines, of course. A coworker jokingly called me a drug addict one day while I was taking some of my remedies, and I admit that for awhile I felt like a hypocondriac. I couldn't take everything at once, so the homeopathic remedies went ignored while I took the antibiotics, and again while I've been dealing with the breathing issues. Since I got home from work Tuesday I've been under blankets trying to stay extra warm and trying to shake this. After all, three weeks of this is long enough.
Almost that time--the alarm clock has rung to wake James. Maybe when we get back I can take a nap.