Dear Dr. Forsythe: What is the weirdest thing you’ve ever removed from a pet’s stomach in surgery?
Allie, Sonoma.
Dear Allie: Funny you should ask. I have a story to tell you.
I sometimes wish, for pet’s sake, that all underwear were the edible kind. A couple of years ago, I had a client who probably wished the same thing.
You know they say that the veterinary school admissions interview is one of the most difficult you can ever go through. You can be asked questions like “why is the sky blue” and “why is milk white.” Apparently Kansas State interviewers are rumored to be some of the toughest, so when I was talking to my veterinary student intern this week about some of the toughest cases she’s come across, we eventually landed on the topic of what unusual things I’d removed from pets during surgery since I became a vet.
“I’ve removed everything from plastic bags to super balls, to women’s lingerie,” I explained, watching her face grow ashen. And the case of the Victoria’s Secret panties was the most exciting one of all.
Gloria the Bassett hound (not her real name) was a superbly stunning and even-tempered pet from Napa (yes, her real town). She had been suffering from vomiting and diarrhea for several days before her humans brought her into the hospital where I was working several years ago. As she bobbled through the waiting area, it was clear that she was a unique and vibrant creature, but wholly unwell: she clumsily sat mid-lobby, howled as if chanting a native American moon prayer, then projectile vomited nearly a quart of yellow bile all over my new Cole Haan slip-ons. Continuing on, past reception and into the exam room, we both felt we had bonded: Gloria, at one with the hospital and staff; me, at one with my soggy designer shoes.
“When did the vomiting first start?” I asked the parents, apparently oblivious to the curry-yellow footprints I had left through the hospital floor.
“Last week,” Gloria’s father said.
“Two days ago,” Gloria’s mother said.
As the technician and I lifted their wondrous, long-eared, blood-shot-eyed angel to the exam table, the parents’ tensions rose.
“How would you know how long it’s been?” the father said to Gloria’s human mother. “You worked overtime three nights last week.” It didn’t seem like Gloria had a very happy home.
“It looks like she’s dehydrated and very painful in her abdomen” I broke in, trying to prevent a sucker punch from taking one of them out right there in the exam room. “I’m going to have to take an X-ray and run a couple of lab tests to see if she has a blockage.”
The X-rays showed an unusual looking “opacity,” or haziness, in the pyloric outflow tract of Gloria’s stomach. It looked as though she had swallowed something that had gone down into her stomach and was lodged in the area between her pylorus and her small intestine. There was something called a “gas pattern” that appeared on the X-ray, which confirms that gas is building up below the blockage, and fluid was also accumulating in her stomach which was causing her to vomit and preventing her from keeping anything down.
Abdominal ultrasound confirmed a dense and twisted object that was lodged inside Gloria. It was impossible to see exactly what it was, but high on the list was pantyhose, a sock or some other type of garment. What was clear was that this item was clogging up the plumbing inside this beautiful pooch, making her feel like she’d just finished Domino’s three-pizzas-for-10-bucks deal.
The parents were not happy about the prospect of abdominal surgery to remove the harmful item from Gloria, and they quickly announced that the high price of the surgery was going to eat up the money they had saved for their second honeymoon to Hawaii.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said, “but this thing needs to come out right away. We’ll call you when I’m done.”
Twenty minutes into the surgery, I had a nice pair of “stay sutures” holding Gloria’s stomach open, and I was gingerly pulling on a pair of panties that were wadded up and mixed with bile and stomach sauce.
After plopping the thing down on the surgery tray, it was time to close my patient up and get her into recovery. This dog had been through enough, and so had the parents, apparently. Now it was time to begin the healing process.
Gloria woke up without much incident. Bassetts do like to vocalize a little and Gloria was no exception. Rubbing her leather-like nose and having the technician continue fluids during recovery, as well as a nice dose of post-op pain medication, seemed to make her more comfortable and less in need of howling to the other pets in house.
Gloria’s owners seemed happy to know that she had come through the operation with flying colors. I told them I had removed a pair of panties from her stomach, and I anticipated she would make a full recovery. I also let them know they could come down for a quick visit before Gloria bedded down at the hospital for the night.
Stepping into the exam room, I was taken aback when I presented them with the plastic bag showing the lace panties I had removed from their pet. The mother looked at the bag containing the freshly rinsed, provocative, lace pink silk panties and said, “This is not my undergarment.” She shot a glare at her husband, rolled her eyes at me, and stormed out of the office.
I know that Gloria made a speedy recovery. What is less clear is whether Gloria’s parents ever made it through marriage counseling.
