09 May 2010

Pica is a Latin Term for Magpie

As a small child I could often be founding suckling windowsills.  So tasty.  Sometimes I would glom on to the styrofoamy covering on the back of school bus seats.  Nom nom.  And yes, I ate the cat and dogs' food.  It was in the garage in a metal bucket.  Free for the taking, right?  I'm not sure when I grew out of my fun pica habit, but thankfully I did.  With all that as part of my history, I am not very surprised that my child inherited my own youthful habit.

Even though ET is a desert tortoise, it seems he has been enjoying his calci-sand just a little too much.  He is supposed to nom on it for calcium purposes, but it isn't a meal substitute.  His bladder and colon tell us that he has spent years inhaling up as much sand as he could pack in to his body.  Once he comes home from the hospital, he will never ever be able to have sand in his terrarium every again.  Today we're going to dump out about 60lbs of sand, clean the fuck out of the tank, and head out to PetSmart to find a suitably soft substrate (astroturf is a possibility, even though it makes me cringe), and to find a cuttle bone (that is another way for him to get the calcium in to his body--if he decides to eat too much cuttle bone, then really I don't know what to do).

How much sand did ET have in him?  Well, what was supposed to be a 2- to 3-hour surgery, ended up being a 6-hour surgery.  I was plotzing all over the place when I hadn't heard from the vet all day Friday.  They were supposed to call us in the late afternoon, and I called at 6pm and was told they were still in surgery.  The Boy called at 8pm, and didn't get anywhere.  They finally called at 8:30pm to say that they got the stones out but his colon still has some feces in it, and that they'll monitor him over the weekend to see if he can successfully squeeze some poo out of there.

They called yesterday morning to say he is drowsy but able to open and close his eyes and move his legs a bit.  He isn't allowed to eat until he can pass some poos (can't keep shoving matter in if no matter is coming out), and they have left an IV in him to keep him hydrated.  Today they called to say that he spent the night rearranging items in his cage.  That is classes ET.  He loves to renovate.  For him, if he can't move something up against a wall, then he is not happy.  I have no idea what all is in his cage at the hospital but they had to take it out so he didn't get tangled up with his IV wires.  His rambling around is the best news I have heard in weeks!  The Boy said he imagines ET in a mauve cravat and lisping about how where he would like his furniture best.  I highly doubt ET would ever wear mauve.

Tomorrow before noon I will find out if I get to drive to Houston tomorrow afternoon.  I have to do payroll no matter what (I guess people should get their paychecks even during my family's medical crisis), but will be able to leave shortly after noon.  Yes, that has me heading home in Houston rush-hour traffic.  I'm giddy with the idea of offensive driving and road rage.  Bring it on Houston.  I must have my ET back, no matter how fucked up your roads are.

Now, horchata.

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