S had a surgery a few weeks back - nothing to worry about, and she is completely fine - which we now know for sure. See, we've been driving all over the midwest ever since she had her surgery, and she's supposed to move around (i.e., not sit still in the car for six hours at a time). Add to that - we drive a packed car. Here's where Sam got to sit.
S didn't have much more room. She's had a few weird leg cramps over the past few weeks, but she usually was able to work them out. On Friday, she had one that just wouldn't go away. We called my cousin Ruth, and she confirmed that while it probably wasn't, it could be a blood clot, and we had to get in checked out. We had just crossed over from Indiana into Illinois, and there wasn't much in the way of hospitals. So we headed 30 miles to
Effingham, IL, and visited
St. Anthony's hospital.
(based on this image, we assumed that he was the patron saint of small carbon-based life forms, but the truth is
here.)
At this point, S headed into the hospital, but it was 94 degrees outside, and I had to stay with Sam. After an hour or so, we had finished off the water, and we were hot. I called my parents, and they suggested we find a dog groomer for Sam so I could wait with S in the hospital. Nat found some online. Sam and I drove around Effingham. We walked around Effingham. One address didn't exist. The other was a house. I resorted to asking the locals. They directed me to a metal building down a road past the Petro. They used words like "North" and "East". I kept on asking. We went through the McDonald's drive through. They had heard of it. They pointed. We followed. We went down a one lane road. We passed the water tower.
People rode on ATVs. I gave up hope. And then:
There it was:
Dogs by Design. Our vet faxed Sam's shot records. I ran out the door.
Back at St. Andrew's, S was in an examining room, just about to be wheeled out for a leg ultrasound. These were the wheelchairs:
She had the best technician either of us have ever had - he explained what her veins were doing and what he was checking for. And the result?
S is just fine. And we have the nice people of St. Andrews to thank for putting our minds at rest. And of Effingham more generally for not giving Sam brain damage. When we went to pick Sam up, he had a few fun play hours in between his cramped and miserable ride. We tried to pay - and they refused to charge us. Their explanation? "That's small town life."