Shades of James Herriott - Part 2

We left off as Riley, my friend, and I arrived at the vet's office. This was our first office visit in Chile and I had brought my friend along for her Spanish translation ability and her familiarity with this particular vet; she'd been using him for 3 years. 

The vet led us down a hallway to the exam room. It was more like an alcove off the hallway rather than an actual room.  The hallway extended beyond the alcove into what I assume was his sales office. I could see glass cabinets with a few boxes of Frontline and other assorted veterinary products stacked inside. The exam area itself was clean and tidy with a white exam table in the middle. Lab coats hung from a hook on the wall next to a window that looked out onto the parking pad outside. I could see the blue-grey steel doors propped open to the street beyond. Traffic was passing by in the middle of the day. A chair sat against the wall opposite the window. The vet was facing us on the far side of the exam table. Behind him was a desk or cabinet on which sat a toolbox. Yes, a large plastic toolbox. I found out later was was in the toolbox. 

The vet pulled on his exam coat and grabbed his stethoscope. He said something to my friend in Spanish which she translated into English for me, which turned out to be what is the problem. Once he heard her speak to me in English, he switched into perfect English and asked me what was the problem. My friend, who had been seeing him for three years and struggling with making herself understood in Spanish because she had no idea that he spoke English, had a look of pure surprise on her face and her mouth was wide open. After she recovered from the shock, she managed to say that she didn't know he spoke English. He, in very German accented English replied that she had never asked. It turned out that he is German and knows both Spanish and English (that we know of).

We lifted Riley on to the exam table as I explained that her nail and quick had separated. The vet was not a small man. He was big, not fat, just tall and large boned. He had glasses and a short well trimmed beard. His manner was polite and serious, but somewhat gruff. No pleasantries here. He looked Riley over starting at her head. Riley can be a bit nervous in new situations. Not snappy nervous, but she starts to pant and the fur starts to fall. She tolarates, but doesn't like having her feet touched. So, here we are in a new vet's office to have a sore toe poked and prodded. She was not at her calmest, but she stayed on the table and let him look at her foot losing mounds of fur and panting like she'd just run 10 miles at a sprint. 

Once he'd examined the toe, he said what I'd feared. She'd need surgery to remove the "life," as he called the quick, and the nail. He would need to give her general anesthesia to do the surgery since she was such a "nervous" dog.  Uh oh. This made me nervous. She'd been under once before in the States when she'd been spayed, but they did blood work and tests beforehand to ensure she could take it.  Since his next question was "has she eaten today," I thought that blood work was not in her immediate future. She had eaten that day, so he told us to come back the next day at 3 for surgery.  

He then led us to the front room where he hand wrote my bill for the exam. It came to 6,000 pesos (about $12). That one I could pay by cash. I don't think he had a credit card reader.

Now I faced 24 hours of worry....