Lessy’s Op


Today was decided. We managed to find the cash for the operation (thanks to mum after a lot of fuss she made) we took Lessy to the vet to get her lump checked.


And true enough, it was a tumor.


I brought her into the vet and the vet asked me what was wrong with her. And I told her there’s a lump in her tummy. He “tsked” and said, “Owh dear, it’s a tumor. Second case for the day” and quickly brought the two of us (Lessy and myself) into the operating room.


It wasn’t really an operating room. But it was where Lessy got operated so let’s just call it the operating room for now shall we?


Anyways, the vet asked me to lift Lessy and put her onto the examining table (is that what you call it?) so that he could check on her lump.


He checked it and said, “Yeap, it’s a tumor. Best get it removed now itself”.


I freaked out. It was like someone placed a black cloth on me. I have never thought, or imagined Lessy going for an operation. And here she is, 11 years old and undergoing her first surgery.


I felt like crying. Seriously, it was fucked up.


“How much would it cost sir? I mean doctor?”


“Rm 300.”


“Okay. Remove that tumor then” I was kind of glad that the fees weren’t that expensive. I was expecting around Rm 2k or something.


The vet injected her and made her to sleep.


She wriggled as the needled pierced into her bum. I held on to her to calm her down, playing with her fur and head.


“Is it serious doctor?” I asked the vet.


“Owhh all cancers are serious.” the poker faced vet replied.


“She has a chance of survival right?”


“I would say around 50 –50” Owhh great, thanks doc! Thanks! You’ve injected her and NOW you tell me!


Slowly, she flopped in my hands, panting. She knew what was going on.


The assistant (some Indian douchebag, must be an Indian from India) tied her feet to the four corners of the examining table.


I looked at her and she reminded me of a very hairy Jesus Christ with fur in a very funny way. I couldn’t laugh back then because seeing her just made me even more heart broken.


She just lay there with her eyes open, tongue out from her mouth and very still. I thought she was dead. But she was breathing so that eased my mind a little.


And here’s where I got ticked off. Some Chinese bitch who brought her puppy to the vet starts asking my mum loudly about what’s going on (she saw what the vet was doing to Lessy moments earlier because the assistant, didn’t close the door).


“The dog’s sick.” my mum said.


“Aiyor! Really ahh? Poor thing! What happened??” she started making a big fuss about it.


I felt annoyed.


And then she storms into the surgery room like she owns the fucken god damn place.


“Is this your dog??” she asked.


“Yeah bitch, what does it look like to you? My pet rabbit?” Ofcourse I didn’t say that. I muttered a “Yeah.”


“What happeneeeeeeddddd????” I hate it when people stress the last but of the sentence to prove a point when they ask you a question. I wonder how they sound like if they say, “Would you please fuck meeeeeeeee???” “Do you like it if i give you a yummy blow joooobbbb????”


It was annoying.


I mean seriously, it’s my dog. And she’s sick. And she’s undergoing an op. Why the fuck do you barge into the door and ask me what’s wrong with my dog? :S


The vet was kind enough (and also stupid enough) to explain to her that my dog has a tumor.


He then proceeds to hold Lessy’s tummy, squeezing it and showing the tumor to the fat Chinatown bitch how it looks like. “You want to see?” He says grinning ear to ear. Maybe he likes voluptuous women.


“See, this is a tumor.” Mentor says to protégé.


She looks at it, gives a shake and then proceeds to touch it as well! What the fuck???


Stop touching my dog like that you bitch!


Shit.. but thank god she walked away from the room after that. I guess she got freaked out.  


At one point I felt like telling them to stop what they were doing and maybe this surgery was a mistake. I was freaking out. But I contained myself and watched what they were doing.


She was tied to the sides, and the assistant brought over the tungsten light and shone it on her tummy.


“So this is how they operate dogs” I thought to myself.


“Okay son, you can go now. Let me handle her. We’ll call you once it’s over” The vet said.


And the last thing I saw before telling the vet, “Just do your best, doctor, okay?” was the assistant heating a large scissors up using the Bunsen Burner. Fuck…


I left my contact details at the receptionist and went out all the while keeping my eye on the operating room door imagining the vet cutting up Lessy and removing the tumor.


Mum was waiting outside.


I felt like crying. I’ve never seen Lessy suffer this much ever. So I didn’t say much because I know if I talk, I would start crying.


Mum, on the other hand, observed the surroundings and said the most profound statement I’ve ever heard which really made my day.


“Hey, they have Carrefour here!”


That did it. I blew up and we had a fight.


I mean, how would you feel, if you had someone you love and care undergoing a life threatening surgery and all you want to hear from people close to you is that things are going to be okay and stuff. But all you hear is, “Hey, they have Carrefour here!”


At 7.30, the vet called to pick up Lessy.


We brought her back, she was groggy and apparently, according to the vet, since she’s groggy, she might not be able to recognize us because of the anesthetics.


I called out to her. She just laid in the tiny cage, looking at me.


I know deep down she must be cursing me for bringing her to this place. I felt fucked up.


The vet then proceeded to pull her from her neck and told me to carry her into the car.


Got into the car, had a fight with mum again.


Fast forward the hours, Lessy’s now sleeping under my dad’s bed (I guess she likes it there). She’s very weak and doesn’t want to move. And she hasn’t eaten anything yet.


I hope she gets well soon.


Maybe I shouldn’t have been rude to my mum. But I always believe that people should learn to be considerate.


Or maybe I’m just a jerk as always.


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