March is a Lying Troll...

... a skank, a harlot, a slut.

Banana Dog went in to be spayed on Friday. A simple procedure. So I'm not sure how we ended up at the emergency vet last night, our 70 lb one year old lab cradled in Laughing Boy's arms, gushing blood all over him and the floor. For now, she's stable. LB is still furious that it could have come to this, although we're not sure who to be furious with. The universe, I guess. They gave her plasma, the pressure bandages staunched the bleeding, internal and external, and she's finally eating something. Because she wasn't clotting as she should have been, they didn't want to do more surgery if they could help it, as she was already down quite a bit of blood and giving her more places to bleed from didn't seem to be a good idea.

What I'm most upset about is she was "only" bleeding internally when we got to the vet. The open wound happened when they refused to let us bring her in unless we carried her (not allowed to walk her across the lobby floor). I explained that she was a 70 pound dog with a fresh abdominal incision, and the receptionist's response was "Well, then you'd better bring some help". I swear, I could hear her smirking over the phone. This place has stretchers, gurneys and rolling metal dollies to ferry the wounded dogs from the parking lot into the office, so there was no reason to make us lift her, tearing her fresh abdominal incision open in the process. The look on LB's face was almost as awful as watching her bleed all over him and the sidewalk.

Add to that, my sister is back in the hospital today, for observation. She's still having chest pains, which based on all their lovely tests shouldn't be happening. This time, they checked her into the correct hospital, so all her treatments and doctors are plan-approved and instantly available.

Good news, I know. For now, everybody is safe. I keep telling myself that. But my brain is seriously hamster-wheeling.

If March wants to get back into my good graces, it has some serious sucking up to do.

*UPDATE: Her (the dog, I mean) blood protein levels went up to 30 (from a low crash of 23), and the swelling went down, and she ate. So she's home, wearing the largest, most garishly fetching plastic e-collar I've ever seen. Sticks out a good 4 or 5 inches past her very long nose. As for her health, she's inclined to bounce around like nothing ever happened (a quick doctor safe and doctor-advised sedative cut that short... Hey, Doc... Where's my seadative?). LB and I, however, are slumped on the floor, thoroughly exhausted. And very, very relieved.

My sister's stress test and cardiologist-fest is tomorrow, and should go well too.

Thanks to all for the kinds words and support!