Dr. Wackie...paging Dr. Wackie...

The page woke me prematurely and I looked at the clock without contacts. I could tell the hours were not in the double digits therefore it was earlier than I had wished. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and fumbled around for glasses when the patient’s friend confronted me. I glanced around to look for guilty faces. Somebody let a friend of the patient through and I was not happy about it.

As the patient began explaining the situation, my anger turned to concern for the patient as well as his friend.

She was so anxious with panting, I silently prayed I wasn’t about to have two patients:

Dr. Mr. Wackie had already examined the patient, Mr. Cow, and was calling for surgery. The patient’s friend found me before he did and, tempering the lecture I was sure to give, I followed to Mr. Cow’s room with a yawn.

It didn’t take x-rays to notice the fracture. Mr. Cow’s foot was nearly amputated, holding on by the skin itself. Massive damage and loss of the cottonous tissue was evident as you can see in this picture taken by the paramedic crew:

“What happened,” I asked Dr. Mr. Wackie. I hadn’t seen trauma like this in years. Although I was concerned for my patient, I was a bit excited about the case.

“Apparently, Miss Molly and Mr. Cow were wrestling and Miss Molly accidentally bit down and shook Mr. Cow too hard. BP is nothing, since Mr. Cow has no blood. Pulse is zero since he has no heart,” Dr. Mr. Wackie began as I mentally ran through possible injuries from the shaking.

We both looked at Miss Molly who seemed offended by the “no heart” comment judging by her stance. To thwart off any hostility, I said, “We mean anatomically, Miss Molly. Mr. Cow seems to be a very caring stuffed animal.” With that, Miss Molly huffed and returned to her seat, waiting as Dr. Mr. Wackie, a stuffed animal emergency physician, and I, a stuffed animal orthopedic surgeon, decided what to do. Without a doubt, Mr. Cow would need surgery.

After taking a history, asking about any allergies or medications, and an examination followed by x-rays, Mr. Cow’s spine was cleared and we had a plan of action. Stablizing the bones with plates and screws would be difficult and we may need to fuse the ankle joint because of the extent of the damage. No other injuries were apparent besides the distal tib/fib fracture, or shatter rather.

I gave the bad news. “I will do everything possible to help you, Mr. Cow. You must understand the damage is extensive and it’s quite possible you will loose the function of that foot.”

Mr. Cow nodded through a haze of morphine and gave the okay for surgery.

Quickly, a team was put together and we began.

As I understand it, many of you on the board are not stuffed animal physicians but that you might be interested in the specialty. Therefore, I shall give you a taste. It is much simpler and also the medical liability is considerably less.

The table:

It provides supreme comfort for the patient. As you see here, Mr. Cow is ready and prepped for surgery and even has a smile on his face.

The surgery tray:

This tray contains the most modern surgical scissors available at any grocery store, suture material from Walmart, and the needle with pins. I don’t think I’ll need the pins for this case, but requested them incase I find that I’ll be able to use them.


Dr. Who-done-it, the anesthesiologist, put Mr. Cow in a comfortable deep sleep and monitored him throughout the operation.

An assistant aimed the light just where I needed it. The damage was too extensive to fix and fusing was the only option to insure Mr. Cow a life of minimal pain. After salvaging what I could of the cottonous tissue and repairing the vessels, I fused the joint and began closing (note that a sterile barrier is not required for stuffed animals):

As you can see in this “finished” picture, the cosmetic results are impressive:

Miss Molly was relieved to see her friend in recovery. Mr. Cow should be able to go home in five minutes and be able to play immediately (stuffed animals heal much more quickly than humans). If anyone would like more information about this specialty, feel free to ask. I will answer any questions I can.

LOL… I wish I had been aware of this specialty when I had those types of patients. My current ward doesn’t damage the cottonous tissue so much as any exposed human skin he can find. Ah, pets…

It seems possible that Dr. Wackie got some of her inspiration from the amazing story of the separation of conjoined quintuplet PEEPs. I thought I posted this link every year, but I am chagrined to note that I missed last year, maybe due to internship? (!!!) So for those of you who are NOT familiar with the PEEPs story, AND for those who want to relive the thrills of PEEP surgery, jousting PEEPs, etc., what better time than Holy Week to post this link?
I actually read through the thread and tried the links. Sadly, the links for the library Peeps, and the Washington Post article from 4/3/04, are no longer operative. BUT you can still see the Peeps fun bus HERE.
If you google anything with PEEPs you are going to get some weird $hit y’all. Happy Easter! Have fun!
(and Wackie - very nicely done!)

I hadn’t read the Peeps stuff before.
That’s some funny stuff. Peep CPR lol!

Wow, great job! My last housemate used to sew up the animals around here that Tyra (my avatar pic…really psychotic pic of her) destroyed. However, I can’t find the time so I’m always paying $10 every time she destroys her stuffed mallard duck.

My 1-year old miniature schnauzer, Junior, has three main stuffed bears. . . all of which have had multiple surgeries. It’s kind of cute. Every time he tears one open and starts pulling out the stuffing, we tell him that the bear has to go to the emergency room. Then the next day we tell him the bear is in surgery. He sits in the kitchen and keeps careful watch while I sew them up. The good thing is that I used them to practice my suture tying skills before I did my rotation in general surgery. Got pretty good at it if I say so myself. I have even managed to save the bear that was originally Trumpets. For those of you who don’t know Trump was my 15 1/2 year old min. schnauzer that I had to put to sleep last October. I still miss him, but watching Junior play with that bear is almost as good as when Trump played with it when he was young.

Anyway, keep stitching (or suturing, as the case may be!)