Sparky was dropped off at the vet at 8 am, and we picked him up at 3 pm. I didn’t realize that minor dog surgery can take all day. He is fine, but punky. Sparky had a tooth removed, sutures on his belly and evidence of a tape worm.
I like Apple Hill Animal Hospital, but don’t feel like we understand each other.
When I took Sparky in a couple of weeks ago, they had a questionnaire to better understand the pet owner. There was one question that I didn’t answer. It went something like:
Choose one:
___ My pet is an animal who deserves appropriate medical care.
___My pet is a valued member of my family and should be treated as such.
I would have chosen, “My pet is an autistic guy who has become a good friend and roommate.”
I understand what they were getting at, but neither of their choices sounded right. They just don’t seem to get it.
When I went to pick up Sparky, I was eager to get him home and comfortable. The receptionist explained his medication, then as she was coming up with the bill, an old lady/new employee came by to look over her shoulder. She had the look of the actress, Carol Kane. The old lady may not be 73 years old like Carol Kane, but she could be. She had the dyed, puffed up hair of a woman in her 70’s.
The old lady wanted to see how to issue the bill. I am never fond of company training on my time, but understand the reason for it. The receptionist was pleased with her initiative, so rather than finish my paperwork, she had the old lady/new employee process my bill on her computer. It got all fucked up. It will always be all fucked up with this old lady. George Costanza’s mom on Seinfeld will never be able to process anything on a computer.
For practical reasons, Sparky wasn’t brought out until the bill is settled. When that was worked out, a pet helper brought him out. Sparky was emptied of spirit and dynamism. I get it. The anesthesia could be wearing off, or he could be physically and emotionally exhausted.
Sparky and I sat down and waited for Dr. Grossman to come out to debrief me. One lady came in from outside with a dog, while another lady came out from the examination rooms with a dog. They were fine, just regular ladies with dogs, but all the gabbing and goofing around in the waiting room irritated both of us.
I wanted to smack Dr. Grossman. She brought her tablet to show me the hole in Sparky’s tooth or his gum. That wasn’t very clear. She did a jovial, oops-oops-oops-oops routine as she tried to get the photo to display in the proper orientation. It’s the inside of a dog’s mouth. What the fuck do I care whether it’s upside-down or not?
When Dr. Grossman was done, the old lady cluster-fuck at the front desk was chugging along. The receptionist insisted that we schedule Sparky’s suture removal. I left, but she followed me out to the car.
What are normal people like when picking up a sick friend? You know Sparky. He’s charming, personable, hungry and optimistic. Sparky wasn’t like that at all, he was a beaten man. All he wanted was to sit down, have a cigarette and zone out for a while. Some of that is speculation, but he certainly wanted to go home and rest. All I wanted was to get Sparky home to rest.
Do normal people want to banter, go in depth on future treatments, schedule appointments, review every item on the bill, or talk about other patients, or do they just want to get their friend home?
My brother drove, so I could sit in the back seat with Sparky. When we got home, Sparky didn’t want to get up off of the seat. I lifted him out, and he walked fine and even hopped up on the deck with no trouble.
Sparky has been laying on his dog bed since we got home. It’s been three hours, and he isn’t even eager to eat. Sparky’s mouth hurts from losing the tooth. Well, not lost. For some God damn reason they gave me his tooth. See what I mean? What kind of twisted empathy leads them to think I need his tooth? Even if the tooth fairy were to come, Sparky doesn’t have any pockets. What would he do with money?
His belly hurts, and he’s probably mad about losing the tape worm. Sparky was down 2 lbs from his normal weight. A tape worm is nature’s Ozempic.
Sparky is doing the open-eyed napping, with none of the night terrors. Sparky likes to keep an eye on me, so I’m staying with him so he doesn’t have to worry. The wireless keyboard is really paying off. Once Sparky starts eating, I’ll know that he’s fine.
poor baby! You sound like me every day now when I have to talk to doctors or their offices….I totally understand. Glad he’s doing OK, and good that you’re staying with him.
I understand incompetent or inattentive medical staff. These people all seemed to be hitting the wrong notes. It’s like if the vet came out of surgery, and said, “Sparky is resting, the procedure went fine, would you like to lick the spoon?”