Early Mornings

*BEEP*
My brain turns on and becomes semi-aware.
*BEEP*
Should probably see what that is.
*BEEP*
At least it's light outside.
*BEEP*
"Hiya! Cattle caesar. See you in 20 minutes."
"Right. See you soon."

We go to the surgery to pick up some gear, check on the inpatients, and then it's a long 45 minute drive to the farm. I'm navigating by the directions from the farmer and a map reference we managed to get from the computer. The drive goes quickly, over the hills and in to the sun.

Once on the farm we kit up and head in to the barn to find the cow. There is a bit of a muzzle and half a hoof poking from her back end making our diagnosis a bit easier than normal. A physical exam shows there is no way this is going to work out naturally, so we must perform a caesarean.

After we secure the cow everything starts to fit in to place. A hay bale becomes the instrument table. A bucket of cold water with povidine becomes our scrubing up area. A dodgy extension cord provides power to run the clippers. Various torches provide lighting. It's all a little different to the photos in the textbooks, but I love it.

Cow is now clipped, scrubbed and we have performed a nerve block on her side. A quick inscision through the skin, abdominal muscles and finally peritoneum reveals the abdominal contents with plenty of fluid showing the calf needs to come out right now with no messing about. I located the uterus and drag it (and the calf) to our hole while the vet is changing her scalpel blade. More cutting, some heavy lifting and the calf is out in the big wide world.

My task is to now keep the calf alive using what few tools I have on hand. Between myself and the farmer we lift him and swing him upside-down to get rid of the fluid in his lungs. A quick cough, shake of the head, and his eyes open. He is breathing normally. Success!

Scrubbing back in to the sterile portion of the operation we then close the side of the cow and start to clean up. Only now do I notice the tightening of my skin where all the blood has dried up my arms and the small spot on my glasses suggesting it's on my face too. We walk back out in to the sun and get washed up with the help of some tea.

We get back in the car and I check out the clock - it's 11am. We were operating for 3 hours, and a quick check of the phone reveals the fun isn't over yet, more work is coming in. No time to enjoy the sun yet. Back to work.