|The surgeon called this morning to say that Munson was ready to go home and wouldn’t need the three days of expected post-op care. “Great! I’ll collect him now.” I’d put his blanket on the bed this morning as a symbolic gesture, never imagining he might be on it within hours rather than days. |
Now wasn’t practical; he would need one more round of analgesia mid-afternoon and then I could pick him up. I had butterflies in my stomach all day, but at least these were better than the teeth-grinding anxiety I experienced the night before his surgery, which left my jaw so sore by midday I had to go home to find some pain-killers.
Much of this stress was soothed by the incredible reaction to the Munson v Cancer fund-raising drive on GoFundMe which pulled in nearly a thousand dollars towards his surgical costs in the first day. I woke to the sound of my email inbox ringing in each donation like a New Year bell. Further generous donations appeared in my letter-box and by direct deposit. Thank you all, thank you all so much.
One side effect of my anxiety was that I got last year’s tax done in a few hours, so I could throw my small refund into Munson’s hospital kitty.
At our 4.20pm reunion he was quite perky, even with a band of stitches extending along half a shorn leg. He was quite the patchwork toy with bands of shaved hair where surgical tubes had been planted, all crowned with a fresh new plastic collar. With the hair gone, you can see what a slim leg he has, appearing to be tucked into a giant malamute-paw slipper.
For the curious, I’ve included a picture of the tumour last week after the biopsy, but scaled it down so you can avoid it, unless you care to click through. It demonstrates just how aggressive it was, coming out of nowhere to have a height comparable to the thickness of the joint. It’s been essential to attack it before it metastasized.
I had a debrief from one of the other doctors about his pain-killer and antibiotic regimen, and then Munson decided that I’d dilly-dallied enough and we should get out of there.
It’s been a rough year for Munson, with unexplainable separations for his quarantine, and now several days of veterinary comings and goings, alternated with the space-helmet. All probably seem like terrible punishments, so I need to ensure that everything else is stable and reassuring. Once again, thank you to all readers for your love and support.