“Sounds easy enough.”
“I will go over all of this with Gabe when he comes to pick you up on Wednesday.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Of course, Dusty. I always go over everything with the owners or partners—whatever the situation may be. I care about my pets, and I want them to be happy, healthy, and pain free when they leave my care.”
I smiled and looked at the tray as he rolled it closer. I noticed a few white cans with red caps that were probably about three to four inches tall on the tray. They each had a red plastic straw poking out from the side of the cap. Gray left the tray within arm’s reach of me and then he moved to the foot of the bed. My heart started to pound hard when I saw all of the syringes and plungers that were wrapped in plastic and piled on the tray. Next to the red and white cans were several brown glass vials with silver lids. There were probably close to two dozen vials, and each were maybe only an inch tall. Separated from the brown vials was a clear glass vial with a clear liquid in it.
“Let’s warm you up a little bit,” Gray said as he unfolded a blanket and draped it over my feet. He situated the blanket so it covered me all the way to my chest. I instantly began to feel better and not so exposed. “You can tuck one arm under the blanket for now and leave one out. We’ll start with the hands and wrists.”
I did as Gray suggested and kept my eyes glued to what he was doing as he prepared. From a wire rack under the tray, he grabbed a white towel and spread it on the bed beside my upper thigh and hip. Gray pulled on some white latex gloves and then took hold of my hand to place it how he wanted on the towel, palm up. He opened one of the square paper packets and pulled out a folded antiseptic pad. He wiped the pad all around my wrist, close to my vein, and then he tossed the pad onto the tray and picked up a plastic package.
“I’ll inject the nerve blocker first,” he explained as he pulled open the plastic for a syringe and plunger.
Gray snapped off the blue plastic tip that protected the end of the needle. He picked up one of the clear glass bottles, lined up the syringe with the silver cap, and slowly pulled the plunger back to fill the plastic vial. As soon as the syringe was full, he brought it to my wrist and, without another word, he pushed down on the plunger, sending the nerve blocking agent into my body. He set the syringe on the towel and reached for a bandage that he already had peeled from the paper wrapper and covered my wrist with it. He picked up the syringe and then tossed it in a container that was under the wire rack on the tray cart. Gray smiled at me as he picked up one of the red and white cans.
“Doing okay so far, Dusty?”
“Yes. It didn’t hurt.”
“Good. That makes me happy to hear.”
After he shook the can a few times, he took hold of my hand and turned it over to place it how he wanted on the towel. With his left hand, he held my hand in his and placed his thumb horizontally across my fingers.
“This is the numbing agent that I’ll spray on that will help reduce some swelling. The nerve blocker might take a few minutes to fully kick in, so you might feel the numbing spray. But it’s nothing to be worried about. It’ll feel very cold after a few moments and then it’ll give you a burning sensation. But don’t be alarmed, it’s just cold.” Gray looked up at me before he started to spray it on my hand.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
Gray was right; all I felt was a cold sensation at first. It only felt ice cold, then the cold quickly turned to a burning feeling. In awe, I watched as cold vapors rose from my skin. Once he was satisfied with the coverage and area he sprayed, he set the can on the tray and wrapped the towel over the back of my hand. I really couldn’t feel anything as he wiped the residue off.
I watched as he filled a syringe with the stuff from a brown vial. I was surprised to see that the liquid was a creamy color, and before I could stop myself, I made a comment about it out loud.
“It kind of looks like cum,” I joked.
Gray kept his eyes on what he was doing, but he laughed and nodded at my comment.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
Gray guided my hand to rest flat on the towel and pushed the needle in near the knuckle of my thumb. I didn’t feel the needle go into my flesh and didn’t feel anything when the cream-colored liquid was injected. Once the syringe was empty, he tossed it in the bin under the wire rack and then put a bandage over the injection site.
It was a slow process. Between the prep of filling each fresh syringe, injecting it slowly, disposing of the syringe, and applying a bandage it took close to two hours before my right hand and wrist area were done.
“Are you doing okay, Dusty?” Gray asked as he wrapped my hand and wrist in a white material. It wasn’t gauze, but something similar. He looked up at me, waiting for my reply.
“I’m doing fine,” I replied and nodded.
He definitely took the time to ask me often if I was doing okay, and he would always look at me until I answered. Gray definitely cared about his patients … or pets, as he called them.
“Stay still. I’ll be right back. I’m not leaving the room, but I need to grab ice from my freezer,” he explained.
He hurried over to the freezer and came back carrying two plastic bags already filled with ice. Gray wrapped the towel around my hand and wrist to protect my skin from getting too cold from the ice. He lifted my hand and put a bag of ice on the bed, then set my hand on top of it. He carefully placed the other bag of ice on top of my towel-wrapped hand, pressed a button on his watch, then looked up at me.
“We’ll take a small break while the ice sits for about twenty minutes. Are you thirsty?”
“I’m okay, thank you,” I answered.
Gray went to his fridge and brought back a bottle of water for himself and sat on a wheeled stool.
