Page 60 of Doc Showmance
Shit, I hadn’t realized he wasn’t exactly alone.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you two,” I said. “Strike that comment about his date from your heads.”
The older gentleman dabbed his eyes. “No, don’t take off. You’re far more interesting than anyone else I’ve talked to tonight. I’m Josh Daymond.” He held out his hand.
I shook it as I said numbly, “As in Senator Daymond?”
“Yes.” He grinned a set of even, ultra-white teeth. He was in good shape for a man that had to be in his late sixties. Yet, it was his smile that drew me in. As if I were the most interesting thing he’d ever spoken to. That kind of magnetism was a gift I wish I had. Ian had it, too.
“You’re becoming quite a celebrity, Amber,” Seth said. “That TV show of your veterinary ER clinic is wildly popular.”
“You’re a veterinarian?” the senator asked.
I nodded.
“She’s the best,” Seth said. “I sent one of my deputies across town just to see her when his lab got bitten by a rattlesnake.”
“You did?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“You patched him right up in a day just like I knew you would.”
“I’m glad he did well. I see a lot of snake bites.”
“Can I ask you a veterinary-related question?” the senator asked. “You can say no. I know this isn’t office hours.”
“Okay.” This happened at every event when people found out I was a vet. Here came the hundred questions about some esoteric pet problem his vet couldn’t solve, or, worse, he wanted to avoid an office visit. Even so, relief hit me. Veterinary questions I could handle. Idle chitchat with the twins? Nope. That gave me hives.
“My old dog, Winnie, ruined my sex life. Actually, she peed on my wife’s eight-thousand-dollar carpet yesterday. Then she panicked because Lord knows you don’t tread, let alone mess on that rug. Took her in to make sure there wasn’t a problem. Her vet diagnosed her with a UTI and splenic cancer. Vet says there’s nothing to do but put her down before she bleeds out. My wife’s on board because of the rug incident, but this is my girl. What do you think?”
Did pee talk at a black-tie party faze me? Not really, but I got the irony. “I’m not sure the tumor caused the UTI.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so, either. At least, she hasn’t done it again since starting the antibiotic. You think I should put her down? I don’t want her to suffer because I’m not ready to lose her. We waited too long on our last dog.”
“Did they do an ultrasound to know it’s the spleen for sure and to see if it’s anywhere else in the abdomen…er, belly?”
He shook his head.
“So they diagnosed it as spleen based on the x-rays alone? And some lab work to confirm she’s anemic?”
“Yes. That’s it. I asked about surgery, but they said there’s no reason. Why even try if she’s got cancer? You think we should put her down?”
I didn’t want to throw Winnie’s vet under the bus. “Overall, is she doing okay or having problems?”
“She’s got days with more energy than others, but she’s still happy and eating.”
“Um… I might handle her care a bit differently, if she was my patient.” This was my attempt at diplomacy.
“Is that code for hell no? Do you think the plan sucks?” Seth asked.
“I don’t want to say anything bad about your vet. I haven’t seen the radiographs, and I’m assuming her chest films are clear.”
“Amber, just lay it out there. Josh can handle it,” Seth said.
I compressed my lips and let out a long sigh. “Here’s what I’d do before giving up and simply waiting until she bleeds out or gets metastatic cancer and we have to put her down. I’d do an ultrasound to confirm it is a splenic tumor and then see if I found cancer anywhere else in her abdomen. If all else looks clear, then I’d take out the spleen.”
“What’s the point if it’s cancer? The vet said it’s probably already spread.”
“That’s possible. By removing the spleen, you take away pain and you prevent her from bleeding. Tumors or any mass in the spleen hurts. A lot. At least, that’s what people with splenic tumors say. True, though, if it’s cancer you may only buy her six months, but those can be great months. Without doing it, you have what? A few weeks? A month?”
