I sternly commanded myself not to cry but felt myself frequently tearing up during the wait. At one point, to distract myself, I thought I would walk around the room and read all the advertisements, posters and letters to the doctor that were posted.
Not a great idea.
A lot of the letters were for the purpose of thanking the doctors for being so compassionate and caring when their pets were put to sleep. And then there were all these beautiful heart rending, tear jerking, soul shredding poems about dogs passing away and I thought, "This is not good."
Then I got the idea of looking out through the venetian blinds at the waiting room area and trying to distract myself by people and animal watching. Bad move. The first thing I saw was one woman fling herself into the arms of another and start sobbing.
Obviously, she had not gotten good news about her pet.
After the doctor finally arrived, I lasted about three minutes; when when we started talking about symptoms and problems, I lost it. Completely.
Several tissues later, she told me that she needed to keep Snowy for a while; he had lost weight, was running a low grade fever and looked as if he were possibly dehydrated. She said they would do blood work and call me in about an hour with results.
Then she asked me my phone number. A pretty non-emotional piece of info to impart, right?
Not so much.
I gave her the first three digits. And then lost it again.
I think that at that point, Snowy was more worried about his weepy mama than I was worried about him!
So I am home for a few moments. I need to go to church and work the afternoon but I will keep my phone (and tissues) nearby.