2:35pm
Gnarla's Surgery
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For those who don't know, my beautiful little Gnarla iguana had exploratory surgery on April 30. For the last couple weeks, I'd noticed that she was quite large (no, she's not gravid, she was spayed in 2005), w/ the sides of her abdomen feeling "squishy." Since I work daily with cats, I'd liken the feeling to that of a cat w/ FIP. Also, there were two large, chicken egg-sized hard objects floating in there.
I took her to my herp doc 2 wks ago, and neither a belly tap, bloodwork or x-rays could get to the bottom of her mysterious condition. Actually, the bloodwork revealed no alarming stats about her vital organs, so I was relieved to find out that it didn't seem to be kidney or liver failure. Her white blood cell count was elevated, of course, and she was quite anemic, explaining her pale mouth and eyes. The doc put her on Baytril and recommended vitamin supplements to get her strong for the surgery.
So Wednesday was the big day. The night before, I took all kinds of pictures of her w/ me, since I was terrified that she might not make it through the operation. She slept with me for part of the night, until I got annoyed that she kept leaving the warmth of me & the blankets for marching off into the coldest corners of the room. (I swear, iguanas have no survival instinct. My big boy, Yaz, also hides in dark corners and enjoys trying to CLIMB THE STOVE.) :)
I slept fitfully but got up early, since she had to be dropped off by 8 a.m. I took a few more pics of my darling girl, posed in the window looking out at the newly blooming pink rhododendrons, then loaded her in her "carrier" (a long narrow gym bag, perfect for iguanas!) and off we went.
Even though it was not tremendously cold out, I had the car heater blasting to keep my best girl comfortable. When we arrived at the animal hospital, she was her squirmy self, and it was hard to situate her on the scale. She had been 6.3 lbs 2 wks before, and today she was 5.4. (Maybe the lumps had reduced in size? Wishful thinking, I know. Perhaps it was just the fact that I had restricted her food the day before and that she'd also taken an enormous poop.)
Back into the bag she went, quite reluctantly, so I could discuss care and finances with the receptionist, and then fill out the necessary forms. When the time came, I extracted her briefly from the bag, gave her a full-on kiss (this is not recommended w/ reptiles, btw, but SHE'S MY BEST GIRL, and after 15 years with iguanas, I'm sure I'm a salmonella factory anyway!) and wished her luck. I tucked her back in the bag, handed her to the receptionist, and I zoomed out of there as quickly as I could. I killed the heat and blasted the radio to take my mind off my baby--though who was I kidding?
Since it was my day off, I stopped at the local as-is Goodwill for some bottom-dollar "retail therapy." I mean, hey, if I'm laying out the big bucks for Gnarla's surgery, what's another tenner? :) At home, I commenced to doing chores, not the least was cleaning the lizard cage, making it as nice as I could for her return home. Yaz is such a big funny lump. Though the cats flee in terror at the mere mention of a vacuum, I can actually vacuum around Yaz's body!
Around 1:30 pm, the phone rang, and it was the doctor. Gnarla was just waking up from surgery and was quite groggy. It was a LONG and very bloody operation, involving about 30 metal clamps to stanch the bleeding. (I had to suppress the urge to joke, "Well, I guess I won't be taking her through any airports anytime soon!" Inappropriate, I suppose, but this is how my mind works.) Unfortunately, her vena cava (a great systemic vein connected directly to the heart)had to be clamped off due to excessive bleeding, and the doc hopes that other minor veins can do the job for her internally. Though I am a vet tech (quite a new one!) I don't quite understand this; he says it's been tried in mammal surgeries and works in many, but not all, cases. I'm hoping it works in THIS one.
There were copious amounts of the mysterious fluid in addition to the blood, thus complicating things. Despite all this, he did manage to remove the two lumps (plus another, smaller lump free-floating inside) and they will be sent off to the histopath for identification. He said the color resembled that of packed fecal material, though that's not what they were. Our best guess currently is that they are some sort of tumors. He had quite a bit of difficulty removing them, and hoped that he did not nick any sensitive nerve tissue near the colon, which would affect her ability to expel feces & urates. Again, the "good" part of the surgery is that the lumps were not directly connected to any vital organs. They were actually located near the oviducts. The doctor explained to me that, if an iguana is spayed while gravid, both the ovaries and oviducts are removed. If she is not gravid, as was Gnarla's case, the ovaries are taken, but the oviducts remain. To be clear, he believes the lumps are NOT a consequence of the spay, which occurred 3 years ago. In any case, I still am a firm proponent for spaying physically-compromised female iguanas, as attempts at egg laying in sub-par condition are usually fatal. (This happened to a foster iguana of mine after she was adopted out.)
My heart was in my throat during the entire discussion, because he didn't sound overly optimistic. She was under anaesthesia for a long time, and lost quite a bit of blood. Her prognosis is "guarded" as they say. But the fact that she came through buoyed me tremendously. I listened, asked questions, and squeaked out several heartfelt "thank you's" to him for saving my baby's life. I was told to fetch her near closing time, to give her more time to shake off the anaesthetic.
At 5 pm, I braved rush hour traffic to go get my girl, warming up the car during the last couple miles so she'll have a nice toasty ride home. I waited patiently in the reception area, commiserating w/ the worried owner of a newly-neutered Rottweiler, who was still staggering around a bit as his drugs wore off. "Poor boy!" we clucked, though inside I thought, "A DOG NEUTER. What a pathetically routine operation. Tomorrow morning he'll be good as new, while I don't even know if my girl will make it that long!"
After they checked out, the tech came out w/ the familiar gym bag. "Here she is," he smiled and I immediately unzippered the bag to inspect my brave little iguana. Well, she was obviously feeling perkier, as the first thing to emerge was a flailing set of claws which nicked me on the chin. I didn't mind in the least, as I extracted my active Gnarlita from the carrier. I was shocked at her appearance, even moreso after we weighed her--her new weight was 4.7 lbs. She looked like a deflated wrinkled leather balloon--even the healthy fat base of her tail seemed emaciated. "Liposuction for lizards!" I thought to myself.
I tucked her back in the bag, paid the bill (not as hefty as I'd expected, but still a major chunk o' change) and took her out & put her on the passenger seat and together we drove home, heater on high once again. The Oregon spring day was intermittently rainy and sunny, with huge black clouds looming broken occasionally by blinding, brilliant bursts of evening sunlight. I looked in my rearview mirror and craned my head around trying to find a rainbow. I convinced myself that I saw a faint one, and drove home with nothing but the highest hopes, even though I am definitely a realist and trust my vet, as he's one of the most knowledgeable and talented exotics vets in the Pacific Northwest.
While I was gone, my wonderful roommate had rigged up Gnarla's old solo multi-leveled cage, so that it was now one level and she wouldn't be able to strain her stitches climbing. I placed towels and blankets on this shelf and put her inside while I fixed her her favorite meal of collard greens, zucchini & a smidgin of bananas on top to kick start her appetite. I needn't have worried. Within seconds of putting the plate in the cage, she was eating w/ ravenous glee and my heart sang. EAT, sweetheart, EAT!!! Being the Gnarla that she is, however, she immediately afterward began trying to dig out, scratching at the glass door. This worried me somewhat, because she will have to stay in her solo cage during my work days. But I carefully took her fragile little body and put her gently into her and Yaz's regular abode. He got into her normal position on the right side of the cage, and Yaz began bobbing instantly--he'd missed his ladyfriend! He approached her and licked at her side several times. I know this can normally be a prelude to a "love bite" in the iguana world, so I was ready to act should it progress, even though Yazzy has always had impeccable manners around her. Gnarla, on the other hand, once leveled a small "watch it, buddy!" chomp to Yaz's meaty thigh back in the early days of their acquaintance. This is a girl who can take care of herself!
I'm sure Yaz was just trying to familiarize himself with his shrunken friend and the "hospital smell" that possibly lingered on her. (Meanwhile, Mick the cat was intensely investigating Gnarla's gym bag that probably had underlying Rottweiler-and-who-knows-what-else scent coating it.)
Yaz would pursue and Gnarla would turn the opposite direction to escape his ardent greeting, but, touchingly, she would also climb halfway onto his back and rest there; she obviously was in pain after her big day, and wanted to rest her sore belly on something. She relaxed there with her pal, and I figured she was fine in there under supervision and during the night. I was just so glad to have her home and in one piece.
I immediately called a dear friend back east whom I'd met on an iguana care website back when I was nervous about Gnarla's spay 3 years ago. He asked about the surgery and shared my joy at my girl's safe arrival home. (He also has a beautiful rescued iguana female whom he dotes on lovingly.)
I spent most of the evening on e-mail thanking all my friends who were pulling for her. I then went to bed immeasurably relieved, though I worried that her isolation in her old cage the next day might put her off her food. But don't parents always worry? My Gnarla had made it through major surgery, which was a feat in itself, especially noting the complications. That I am grateful to the veterinary staff at Southwest Animal Hospital doesn't begin to cover it.
