Sometimes we hurt the ones we love. This point was brought home to me on Thursday afternoon. I finished my yoga routine and went downstairs to see stuffing everywhere, a torn up monkey, and wild dog. I grabbed Julius and surveyed the damage; he would definitely need surgery. I didn't have time for a surgical rotation that day, so I placed him in the ICU (laundry room) and cleaned up the stuffing.
Humu spent a couple of days looking around the house for her buddy, unaware of her strength and the injury her canine teeth can cause when in her mind, she's just playing. Finally today I had time to fix Julius. I grabbed my sewing kit, set up the OR on the couch, scrubbed in, and carried Julius carefully out of the ICU. His pressure was dangerously low, he'd lost a lot of stuffing. I went for the big gash right away and started stitching it up. He really needed a nose and throat specialist, as my repair was not going to be pretty.
Humu was watching intently from the gallery, eager to be reunited with her friend. Partway into the surgery, I realized there was a lot more damage than initially thought. He had smaller wounds all over and was in danger of losing an eye. I brought Jason in for a consult, and he agreed that the wounds were probably fatal. Time of death: 9:57 am.
Jason hummed Taps as I carried Julius into the morgue (laundry room again - it's a multi-purpose triage center). Humu wasn't sure what was going on as I closed the door behind me. But I had a secret up my sleeve, something that most surgeons don't have access to. A body double. We had another Julius tucked away in case of a fateful day like this. In fact, this was now Julius number 3. I emerged from the laundry room and Humu saw her buddy in my hand. I gave it over to her, she took him and carried him upstairs. She licked him all over and promptly fell asleep.
Reunited and it feels so good.