A Regular Pupdate ...

Hiya, 

I was nervous as I walked back into the Vets to collect Mr. Warehouse's pooch. What condition was she going to be in? Was she going to recover quickly? Had she peed on the floor in fear after the last time we arrived? But more importantly ... How much is it going to cost our little family financially?

Several weeks ago as I am sure you regulars to my blog will know, the pup got poorly and after seeing several vets at several different surgeries, Mr. Warehouse and I were faced with the decision no pet owner wants to consider. Our little one had been sick for some time now, constantly licking her downstairs and numerous eye infections we decided that we should get a professional opinion as to what was making her ill. We were told by the Veterinarian that o dog could have what was called a Pyometra which is where the womb fills up with pus and as a result is extremely dangerous and life-threatening without treatment. An open-Pyo is where the cervix has opened up just enough to let the pus seep out which is still serious but can wait for an appointment, however a closed-Pyo will mean it is essentially a ticking time-bomb, getting bigger and bigger and with no-where to go could burst at any moment, killing her. After a few weeks on antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication resulting in her being off her food almost permanently asides a few handfuls of plain cooked pasta, she had made very little improvement. 

Within twenty-four hours after coming off the meds, returning from the Peak District just hours earlier our fluffy got poorly again, signature eye infection and constantly licking her privates. Taking her to the Vets they again couldn't determine as to what was causing her upset. Asking to consult with colleagues we were left to discuss our financial options which were dwindling with every visit we seemed to make to the rubber-floored rooms. With the prospects of a £1,500.00 bill for the operation alone we were nervous of what the Veterinary surgery had to say. Although leaving that night, no closer to an answer we were determined not to give up on her. 

We would find a way, surely there must be a way to get through this and out the other side relevantly unscathed. Every lunch break I called over one-hundred local vets, even as far as Cambridge and St. Albans, forty miles from where we called home. Mr. Warehouse never knew the sleepless nights or evenings I would spend researching charities or funding pages that may be able to help. I must admit though that I did look into the horrific alternative and the costs that it would incur. Every night I was left alone with the TV I would open up my laptop / tablet, pooch sat beside me, and nearly cry my heart out for the lack of help around. 

It had been a stressful few weeks leading up to that moment but the second the little student nurse brought out our furry baby we knew the decision to operate was the right one. She was so happy, the happiest we had seen her in some time. Her belly wasn't anywhere near as swollen as it once was and in its place was a shaved belly and a six-inch-scar, held together with little stitches. She had a bandage on her paw where she had her IV drip and fluids. Looked like some child had just been playing Doctors and Nurses with her to be honest. But she was defiantly feeling much better it would have seemed. And I suppose you would have felt better too if you saw what was removed. 

The infected womb that was removed was full, bulging and resembled haggis. The Pyometra had got to the point of bursting and had even developed a small rupture which was found when the Vet's operated. Mr. Warehouse had been ever-so close to loosing our pup and we were sure to make the most of life once she was back on her paws. Already booked we had an adventure to the seaside for the first Spring Bank Holiday in the May, all three amigo's heading off to Great Yarmouth to allow Pooch a run along the shore, sand in between her paws and lots of new sights and smells to explore. But Shhh ... Its a secret - Although I am sure you won't tell her!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A Visit From The Tooth Fairy!

Good Evening,

So continuing with the fancy-free frivolity of being a twenty-something with minimal commitments, this week I decided to book a day off. Now you are probably all thinking, "Hmm, I wonder what our dear friend did with her time off?" but wonder no more my amigos as I took it off not for a extended mini-break, nor a lengthy, well-needed spa day with Champers. No, I took the day off to visit the place where people are born and people die. Yes. Hospital!

After weeks of knowing my appointment to have my back Molar removed, I was certainly not looking forward to it, especially on a weekend where I had other, more important things to think about like how I am going to deal with God at Church on Sunday and what I should wear to the Christening that day. All items which pondered my mind as I sat waiting for my name to be called. I did wonder if I should maybe say my goodbyes to Mr. Warehouse now, read him my will and testament and explain what sort of coffin I would like for my nerves and fear factor were surely high enough to give me a heart attack if the Surgeon didn't. 

Name called and without a moment to spare once in the Surgeon's office I was whizzed through a shit load of questions my anxiety has made me forget and hoofed straight into the operating theatre. Laying down on the PVC Leather couch I tried not to imagine people having violent porn on it. Sitting back as the nurses rallied round I asked if I would be able to listen to some music in order to drown out the sounds of drills, wrenching and yanking. Getting me prepped a lady took my blood pressure and I mentioned how I was proud that it along with all my other vitals were outstanding for a person of a BMI over 30. But as I rest my head backwards and felt the tourniquet tighten and the sharp scratch of the needle pierce my pale skin I got chatting to the lady holding my arm. She had noticed the golden bumblebee around my neck and had commented on how pretty it was, probably the first person in a long time to do so. I thanked her and explained how it was not real gold, letting her into the secret that it was in fact sterling silver with a gold-plate and that honestly I should probably go and get it re-plated. As I felt the anaesthetic take hold, pulsing through my veins I drowsily slurred that I wanted an Alex Monroe Bumble-Bee for my birthday but instead bought this as it was much cheaper that the £150.00 real-Gold Monroe. As I revelled in the fact that someone had the same interest in the beauty that is Alex Monroe, I could feel myself slipping under. Everything became blurry and slurred. Nothing made sense and I couldn't feel anything in terms of pain but had the sensation of multiple people pulling, ripping and stretching my face. 

As they wheeled me coming out of Theatre I noticed Mr. Warehouse on his feet, waiting anxiously. I have no idea of time and whilst I was recovering from the drugs and anaesthetic I lay there not wanting to speak to my sweet boyfriend as I could feel that he did not want to look upon me in the state I was. Later I recall him saying that it was one of the worst moments of being with me as he loathed the fact that I was in pain and hooked up to all these machines, nothing that he nor I could do to make it better. What a sweetheart 'eh?!

Apparently it wasn't all morbid and solemn. Supposedly there were two surgical bins, one yellow, one black and white. According to Mr. Warehouse I was so out of it from my medication I thought that they were a Duck and a Penguin having a deep conversation about the political affairs somewhere. I also tried to dance whilst lying in my hospital bed and this didn't stop when the nurses tried to get me up. Soon though I was allowed home. Mr. Warehouse took me back to the Home he shares with his Mom and pet Dog. Mr. Warehouse treated me very well on Friday, read all my hospital paperwork, made sure I took my meds on time, kept me topped up on water, wiped my dribbles and even made me lunch and dinner. Such a good boy isn't he!?

With my tooth removed the rest of Friday was a haze between doggy cuddles, Mr. Warehouse cuddles and sleeping. The weekend as a whole was fairly relaxing ending yesterday with a beautiful Christening service in a tiny snow-dusted church on the outskirts of Marston Mortaine in the idyllic Bedfordshire countryside followed by a wonderfully tasty meal at The Embankment Hotel, situated right on the river front of the River Ouse in Bedford. Now I must say that on calling the venue a few weeks ago to ask for a menu to be sent via email for pre-selecting what I and the boyfriend were going to have I was quite put out by the rudeness from staff and other telephone answer-ers. However on entering and ordering a 'Hot Mulled Cider' which took longer than needed I was pleasantly surprised when they not only offered me a drink on the house for the 30-minute wait whilst the Cider warmed but also a couple of free refills and what amazingly scrumptious, apple-y, lemon-y, cider-y goodness. especially for when there is snow on the ground outside. 

But hears hoping that this weekend the snow can stay away so Mr. Warehouse and I can do something fun involving something warm and cosy. Definitely not off to raid my under sink booze-cupboard for some left over cider ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx