After some truly fitful sleep, I made my way to the vet with William as soon as they found a spot for us at a local clinic. The poor boy didn't even need his seat-belt; he flopped on the seat next to mine and didn't move until I parked up, edged him out of the car and walked into the practice. Upon examination, the vet identified a rather large foreign object lodged in the upper belly. Because the rest of his organs felt normal, he was certain that this thing would be the one causing the upheaval. He told me to immediately drive him to hospital which he would call while we were on our way.
Once we got there, I opened the waterworks. I was so scared to lose him that I could not even talk straight, in fact, it's a bit of a miracle they even understood what I was saying. As I placed him on the examination table, he didn't even try to stand up. He just laid there, his eyes barely open and his sack-like skinny body unable to move. It's a miracle I managed to drive home without crashing into anything (I did take my precautions; I didn't change from second gear...).
X-rays identified the foreign object the vet had felt early in the morning. This looked like a peach stone or something like it. Its placement within the abdomen meant that liquid was filling up the stomach, which explains why William suddenly looked round in the middle while the rest of him was sticks and bones. They went ahead with the operation soon after the drip they attached him to had the opportunity to pump some liquids into him. The incision in the intestine allowed them to extract a walnut-like object they were unable to precisely identify, while one in the stomach removed a small radiator cap. Why do I write odes to the Dyson when I have a dog that can do its job? Why do I even have a vacuum cleaner of the electrical sort? Heck, the Dyson doesn't pick up walnuts or radiator caps.
Later in the afternoon, the surgeon called again to reassure me that he was waking up and that the drips would keep him stable and as pain-free as possible. Luckily, with his epilepsy being so stable since November 2005, when I recorded his last seizure, this was not a major concern. Now I just have to pray that he will survive this stunt and that he will be able to come home soon. Meanwhile, I am shattered. I presume a very early night is in order...
