Welp… here we are on Thursday night, at work, hoping all goes well in surgery tomorrow. Dropped the little guy (not so little, I guess, everyone kept commenting on how big he is, and all the ways that could cause problems…) off at the university vet hospital and he’ll go under general anesthesia early tomorrow morning.
Feeling… complicated. I mean, I sat there, listening to the surgeon tell me what was going to happen, tell me the cost estimate, and go through the timeline and all the possible complications. I felt a little crazy, but determined. I told my friend who came with me there wasn’t any way I would look the surgeon in the eye and be, like, nah, nevermind. I’m just gonna turn him out and see what happens. Or, nah, nevermind, I’m going to take him home and dig a hole. Nope, we’re doing this. I wish I had been a little better prepared, but whatevs.
Yes, there will be a screw. Hopefully the fragment will not fragment further. Hopefully he will survive anesthesia. There will be three months of recovery (not too bad, considering, but not awesome, either). With the cost of this surgery combined with all the other vet bills I have paid in the last 60 days, I could have purchased another one of him, plus a mini and maybe a puppy. My husband is going to pass out. I am going to work a lot of overtime, so don’t plan on speeding through Oregon anytime soon.
Thank you to everyone who chimed in with opinions or good wishes. They were helpful, truly. It was good just to put this out there, talk myself off the ledge, and keep moving forward.