The tear ducts are clear.
We learned yesterday that the Magpie’s surgery was scheduled for today at 12:30 and, while we knew it was supposed to be today, we had been hoping for a significantly earlier time. The Magpie wasn’t supposed to eat anything after midnight last night [uh, okay] and no liquids after 9:30 this morning.
So we kept her up an hour and a half late and tried to convince her to eat a little extra to [mostly] no avail. She managed to sleep in 30 minutes this morning. and proceeded to ask for milk, snacks, cookies, apples, yogurt and Starbucks all morning long. We kept her busy with trips to the pet store, Mr.Q’s work and the drive to the hospital. The problem? They were running late. Like, say, over an hour late. She didn’t get in until 1:45.
Mr.Q went in with her and I made a mad dash for the coffee shop. Twenty minute surgery be damned – all I’d had since 6am was two mini muffins that I scarfed in the kitchen while the Magpie wasn’t looking. The only reason I hadn’t lost it entirely was the large coffee I made before heading out the door.
**note to self: if there is a next time, eat more. It’s difficult to have a coherent conversation, let alone remember to ask all the important questions, with the anaesthetist prior to surgery when one’s blood sugar hasn’t been on any scale for several hours.**
The surgery went well the docs did their thing. Post-op, the poor little Magpie took forever to wake up. All her readings were fine but, between Tylenol, anaesthetic, no food and a missed nap time, she slept. It took cold cloths, tickling, tissues and a popsicle to wake her and then it was off to see daddy.
Now, after a little more Tylenol, she is sleeping again.