![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Ferret Stress
Mar. 31st, 2007 08:50 pmFriday morning Vincent hurt his little penis on the couch somehow. There was blood and pained cries, some from him and some from me. I almost rushed him to the vet right then and there, damn work and such the like, but Dad said to wait it out.
By two o'clock I couldn't take it any more and called the vet, they said to bring him in right away, but I waffled (because of work, damn them) and decided that I wouldn't be able to come in until the next day, because I had already blown my lunch hour by going home and making sure he was still alive (which, of course, he was) and comfortable (maybe not so much with Baby sleeping on him).
So I took him to the vet at some ungodly hour, and they had to sedate him to make his little penis protrude to make sure there wasn't anything seriously wong, proclaimed him badly bruised and swollen, prescribed an anti-inflammatory and Pepcid (and cost me almost $200) and sent us on our merry way. And he peed on the super cute vet tech. (Heeee! I got to see him again!) At least he urinated. Heh. (It was one of the things that the vet said he needed to do before she would let us go.)
...all of this stress is killing me. Or, at least it's destroying my hands (and my right ear...and my legs, oh dear god MY LEGS) bit by every eczema ridden bit. (BTW, I've been officially diagnosed with dyshidrotic eczema. GAH.)
By two o'clock I couldn't take it any more and called the vet, they said to bring him in right away, but I waffled (because of work, damn them) and decided that I wouldn't be able to come in until the next day, because I had already blown my lunch hour by going home and making sure he was still alive (which, of course, he was) and comfortable (maybe not so much with Baby sleeping on him).
So I took him to the vet at some ungodly hour, and they had to sedate him to make his little penis protrude to make sure there wasn't anything seriously wong, proclaimed him badly bruised and swollen, prescribed an anti-inflammatory and Pepcid (and cost me almost $200) and sent us on our merry way. And he peed on the super cute vet tech. (Heeee! I got to see him again!) At least he urinated. Heh. (It was one of the things that the vet said he needed to do before she would let us go.)
...all of this stress is killing me. Or, at least it's destroying my hands (and my right ear...and my legs, oh dear god MY LEGS) bit by every eczema ridden bit. (BTW, I've been officially diagnosed with dyshidrotic eczema. GAH.)
