Fiona's Anxious Trip

         Fiona sat in the front seat of the car watching and whining.

         "Everything will be just fine," I consoled her.  "Dr. Balky is always happy to see you."

         Fiona looked at me with those big eyes and sighed.  She turned back toward the window as I pulled out from the light.

         "You always worry yourself sick and then realize there was nothing to worry about to begin with," I chided.  "Just think, if you're a good girl, we'll go to your favorite store and I'll let you pick a special toy."  Even my bribe was met with a heavy sigh and a whimper.

         Fiona ignored every word of consolation and continued to fuss.  Five miles is a long way to drive when you're taking someone to a place they don't want to go.  I finally pulled into the lot.  "You know what?" I asked, frustrated, "This is for your own good, Fiona.  You can resist as much as you want but you're still going," I explained.  "When you're sick you need to see the doctor so you can get better."

         Her huffing continued as we walked towards the door.  She tried to wiggle out of my grasp but I held tight.  "Come on," I urged.  "It will be over before you know it."

         I signed the book at the desk and we took a seat in the waiting area.  "Look!  They're playing your favorite movie," I said, trying to sound upbeat.  "I think Nemo is about to go to school, see."  I pointed to the screen.  Fiona looked, sighed, and tried to climb over into my lap.  I helped her up and rocked her.

         "Everything'll be okay, little one," I soothed, stroking her hair.

         "Fiona?" the nurse asked from the exam-room door.  Fiona jumped at the sound of her name and tried to escape.

         I got up and carried her to the room.  The nurse closed the door behind me and began asking the usual battery of questions.  "Dr. Balky will be right in to see you," she assured us, exiting the door leading to the private area of the office.

         Fiona continued to protest, trying to jump down from the exam table, complaining the whole time.

         "Well, well," Dr. Balky said as he opened the door.  "What seems to be bothering Miss Fiona today?" 

         As I explained the problem, Dr. Balky examined his impatient little patient.  "Feeling a little feisty today, are we?" he asked in a soothing tone.  "I'll have one of the nurses come in to take a blood sample.  I want to run a couple of tests.  I'd also like to take a series of x-rays so we can rule out a bowel obstruction and a few other internal issues."

         I nodded.  Dr. Balky opened the door and called a nurse, who quickly retrieved Fiona and whisked her down the hall for x-rays and blood work.

         "Here she is," the nurse announced a few moments later.  She put Fiona in my arms and smiled, "She's such a little sweetheart."

         Fiona put her head on my shoulder and whimpered.  "Everything will be fine, sweetie," I whispered, worried.

         Dr. Balky returned with good news, "The blood work came back okay.  Her electrolyte levels are low and her white cell count is a little higher than normal, but with the symptoms you described, that's about what we expected.  Here, I'll let you have a look at the x-rays.  He snapped the films to the light box on the wall and dimmed the overhead lights. 

         He pointed out the loops of intestine.  "They look a little compact and thin, but if she isn't keeping anything in, that's what we'd expect.  Usually you'd be able to see some dark areas where food is still being digested."  He pointed out her kidneys, liver, and other organs.  Everything looks normal."

         Dr. Balky detailed all of the medications and the bland diet he wanted Fiona to eat.  "Keep her on that for a week and see how she does," he said. 

         He answered all of my questions, wrote out detailed instructions and concluded, "The nurse in the reception area will have all of the medications ready when you get there.  Don't hesitate to call if you need anything.  My personal number is on the answering machine after hours; give a ring if you have any questions."

         He took Fiona's face in his hands and touched his nose to hers, chattering in baby talk all the while.  He glanced at me and I smiled.  "I have a worried Westie at home just like your Fiona," he blushed, scratching the little white head in his hands.  "They're an adorable breed, but I don't think they ever outgrow the separation anxiety!"

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This is Fiona