Not everyone reacts to surgery the same way. When I got my gall bladder out ten years ago, I spent more than a week laid out on the couch, feeling like I had been kicked by a mule in my ribs. Two weeks later, Mr S-P had the exact same surgery performed by the exact same doctor. The very next day, he was outside splitting wood to go in our fireplace. I was both upset with him for potentially rupturing his laproscopic surgery sites, and insanely jealous that he was up and active a day later.
When we brought Rabbit home from being spayed, I tried to keep her in a quiet, still place. Instead, she jumped away from the blanket bed I'd made for her, hurt herself, hissed at me, and went to hide. She was wobbly and unhappy. Her belly healed very poorly, like they never stitched the muscles back together, and ever since she has had a floppy white apron that bounces around her back legs like (don't look, mom) human-sized balls. She doesn't seem self-conscious about it, but when I look at her, I often wonder whether it was from that first jump after surgery, or did the surgeon lack skill, or was she (the surgeon) just that indifferent and sloppy?
Harvey had his turn for surgery today. Male cats apparently bounce back from castration even more easily than my husband bounced back from gall bladder removal. I came home from meetings this afternoon to find a loopy, goofy, very stoned little blush-faced boy wanting cuddles. He kept playing in and around his cat carrier. I thought once sensation returned and his feelgood drugs wore off that he would slow down, but he hasn't done it even once. He has been jumping and playing and killing toys all over the house. Our friends came over for game night, and Harvey couldn't stay away any better tonight than he ever has. He wants to be the star of the show, and tonight was no different. Good on you, little Trash Panda. I'm glad you are in no pain. And I'm jealous as all get-out. Would that we all could bounce back so quickly.
No comments:
Post a Comment