I stood with George, ears perked, eyes
alert, like border collies waiting for the signal. John, (we’ll call him
John), finally made his momentous decision known, “We’ll do a
C-section! But, I want pictures for my scrapbook!”
John was a senior veterinary student spending the week with me during calving season. George was my assistant.
The object of John’s attention stood
quietly in the chute. She was a crossbred heifer, carefully selected for
those quality criteria; four legs and a pulse. Although she weighed
over 800 pounds, she wasn’t much taller than a bathroom sink and wide as
a mobile home! Being nine months pregnant made you want to paint
“GOODYEAR” on her side!
John was well taught so George and I
offered to be his surgical aides during the procedure. John had never
actually performed one before but I had insisted that he call the shots.
George and I were at his beck and call.
John chose to make a lateral incision in the left flank. We haltered and cast the beast on the ground.
Under John’s watchful eye we clipped and
scrubbed and shaved the incision site. He asked for a drape. I had one,
fortunately. I had been cutting hair with it in the bunkhouse! But it
was clean.
Before he double-gloved up he asked if I
would record his first C-section on film. I took his camera and snapped
him poised above what appeared to be Plymouth Rock! He looked over his
shoulder at me as I clicked on. Once he made his first incision, he
peeled off the outer gloves and asked me to adjust the light. I moved
George closer.
All was going well, as the photographs
would show. John was doing the perfect imitation of a qualified
veterinary surgeon. He penetrated the abdomen authoritatively and
immediately the bladder of a blue whale welled up through the incision!
John recoiled in terror as the mass came at him like a driver’s side air
bag!
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