I had to postpone hip-replacement surgery at the last minute. A day of multiple mishaps culminated in the postponement of a major surgery because of a cat.
My day should have gone like this … a 9 AM appointment at the hospital to complete paperwork and have blood drawn. At 11:15, I was to hand off the cats, Rudy and River, to the owner of A Country Cat House, a rather posh hotel for felines, and be at work by lunch. Easy, right?
I got up extra early to take pain pills because it takes about 20 minutes for them to fully take effect. I usually check my e-mail while waiting. After getting dressed, I looked for my car key. Nowhere to be found.
After 30 minutes of searching, I had to call AAA to get a replacement. It would take about an hour and a half to get there, and it would be $125 with my AAA membership.
While trying to call, I couldn’t get a signal on my phone in my house. I had to walk across the street from my townhouse to get a signal.
After returning to continue to fruitlessly search for Rudy, I crossed the street again to get a signal and call the hospital to explain the situation. They told me it wasn’t a problem.
AAA shows up at 10:45 and fixes the key situation. Ready to go.
I go back in to wrangle the cats into the carrier so that they can go to the cat hotel. Rudy, a Siamese mix, realizes what’s about to happen and bolts. I couldn’t catch him. He is a good hider, finding an obscure, secure hiding place.
Now I needed to call Josie at the cat hotel to update her on the situation. Back across the street in search of a signal, I went.
The owner said, “No problem. Take your time. He will come out from his hiding place.”
When I got to the hospital, I encountered a flaky phlebotomist. She screwed up the protocol and immediately disappeared when her shift ended. Her poor replacement walks in to start her shift and has to figure out how to fix her co-worker’s mistakes.
The problem? When undergoing surgery on the left side, hospital bracelets must be worn on the right wrist. The flaky phlebotomist had gotten it backward. Everything, including the blood draw, had to be redone to ensure accuracy. An appointment that should have taken an hour took almost two hours.
When I returned home, Rudy was still nowhere to be found. River, my other cat, was already in the carrier and not too happy about it. I went back across the street to call the cat hotel to give an update.
“Don’t worry. Relax and have some tea.”
I did worry. I had vodka instead.
If I were going to be away for a few days, I could have improvised by leaving out lots of food and water. But I was going to be gone for three weeks.
By 4 PM, I knew I was going to have to cancel the surgery. The clock had run out. I went back across the street to call the surgeon’s office and explain the very embarrassing situation.
I started with, “I have a situation and need to postpone the surgery tomorrow. “
“Ooookay. It’s kind of late. What’s the situation?”
At that point, I just blurted it out … “I can’t find my cat!”
(Silence)
“You can’t find your … “
“My cat. Yes. I can’t find my cat!”
I tried to explain the problem. I imagine it was barely coherent – borderline hysterical.
The office manager was understanding, but I knew this was a big deal. It’s not just a routine doctor’s visit you’re canceling. It’s an entire surgical team, complete with an operating room full of replacement parts just for you.
She told me that August 5 was the next available date and there would be a hefty cancellation fee.
After everything was squared away, I went back inside to change clothes and decompress. Within 20 minutes of sitting down, Rudy peeked around the sofa to see if the coast was clear. We looked at each other, and both declared the day DONE!
Before having the rescheduled surgery, I had to see the surgeon to get fresh X-rays and refill my prescriptions. The office manager came out of her office first to see how I was doing and second to tell me that she had never, in her entire career, heard of anyone canceling surgery for misplacing a cat. We had a good laugh.
At every post-surgical follow-up, there would be lots of whispered questions: “How are the cats? Where’s Rudy?”
I can only laugh. What else can you do?
