The Final Battle of the Grotesque Bulge

Well, here it is. The blog no pet-owner wants to write. And of course, I don't have to write it, but I kind of need to. Catharsis for me always means writing.

Last week, we discovered Remic's bulge was back. It was a different shape, but it was in the gut area again. Now, initially we thought he was having problems digesting his last meal, so we gave him a bath and pumped the heat up in his vivarium. But by Friday, he was lethargic and non-responsive to us, which is really just not Rem. So we called the vet. Couldn't get an appointment until Monday morning. Over the weekend, we kept a close eye on him, but by Monday morning, it was clear something was really, really wrong. He'd dropped a lot of weight very quickly and just...had no spark in him. Remic has always been lively and curious, even right after his surgery and during his recovery. To see him so still and uninterested in us and the world was heartbreaking.

And of course, the vet confirmed what we probably knew in our hearts - that the tumour was back. She only needed thirty seconds of looking at him to know it. Two months after his initial operation, and after he seemed to bounce back so well, this was devastating. But undeniable. And there was only one choice to be made. By this time, Rem was visibly suffering and so we made that choice...because it wasn't really a choice. He was dying. The kindest, most responsible thing we could do was ease him on.

We got Remic in June 2011, from a local guy who was an incurable pet-collector. He'd buy animals until he had no more room, then sell some on to make more room. We got Ket from him too, actually. I don't want to give the impression this guy didn't care about his animals, but I think he was definitely hooked on acquiring new, novelty pets. Kyle, a life-long reptile-lover, jumped at the chance to take Rem off his hands.

Here he is, five years ago, before we gave him a more interesting tank to live in. Snakes are highly curious and need their environment changed regularly to keep them active and engaged. Rem didn't have much in the way of decor when we first took him, and he was pretty twitchy and nervous of us. His first act when we first handled him was to attempt to choke Kyle to death, in fact. Our relationship did improve from there, though.

Here he is befriending a stick. He then tried to bite it, because you just can't trust sticks, and Remic knew that.

Here he is trying to eat an ornamental skull, because whatever else he may have been, Rem was not bright. Every feeding time tended to end with him trying to swallow something other than his mouse (including his own tail, one unfortunate time). He always got there in the end though.

And here he is just watching me watching him. He was always interested in what we were doing, particularly if loud music was involved (he and Ket seem to have a preference for psytrance and drum n'bass). Occasionally, if I was working on perfume orders in the kitchen, I'd just leave his door open so he could poke his head out and have a proper look. He didn't always want to come out of the viv altogether, but he seemed to like getting a closer look at everything.

It's really difficult to explain to people who don't like or have never had snakes why they make good pets, and how they become more than pets - they become companions in the same way a cat or a dog does. Rem had a huge personality. He was derpy and dumb, but inquisitive and perky. He was, I hope you'll agree, incredibly handsome. He was a show-off when he was in the right mood, and he was fascinating to just watch, because he was always doing something, whether it was attempting to break open the snake-lock on his doors or climbing the walls of his tank until he fell over.

We are lucky, I think, that when the end came, it came quickly. There's no good way to lose a pet, and cancer is particularly nasty, but Remic was fine...until he wasn't. Even when we first discovered the tumour back in May, he was pain-free and unbothered by it. During his surgery and recovery, the vet commented on how bright and well he was. His recovery seemed to be going just fine...until it didn't. We knew there was a chance the tumour could return, but of course that doesn't make it any easier that it did.

But I think Rem had a good five years with us, and I think we gave him the most compassionate end we could. He will be massively missed and joyfully remembered.

The Second Battle of the Grotesque Bulge

When we last left our fearless hero, Sir Remic of Littlebrain, he'd returned from the vet's after surgery to have his Bulge removed, and was on strict instructions to behave and not tear open his stitches. That was about a month ago. He's spent that time living on a bed of newspaper with a cereal box for a hide, having antibiotic injections, and being watched like a hawk to see if he poops normally. I never thought I'd be so invested in snake poop, but here we are. The Bulge was attached to his gut area, so the vet had to cut into that slightly to remove it, then stitch him all back together, so there was a chance of Rem not functioning properly as a result. I'm pleased to announce that he is pooping just fine, and let us never discuss his poop again.

So! Today was the big day. I packed Rem up in his duvet once again, and we went back to the vet to have the stitches checked and removed. He actually wasn't that keen on coming.

So here's my tip for handling a snake that doesn't want to be handled: put the cereal box over his head so he can't see you, then handle the snake as you wish. It works without fail. And of course, once he was safely tied up in the duvet, he had no choice in the matter anyway.

The vet was delighted to see "Sweetie Pie" again, and very pleased with how the surgery incision looks, so he whisked Remic off to remove the stitches. He was back five minutes later to announce that Rem was stitch-free and "getting a bit annoyed." Still! He gave me permission to put all Rem's normal ornaments and bedding back in his vivarium, and all we have to do now is check that the wound doesn't re-open in the next few days. He'll have a sexy, mysterious scar which he could use to impress lady snakes with, if he knew any. The only thing we really need to keep an eye out for now is the last few bits of dead skin around the scar from his last shed. Apparently surgery often triggers skin-shedding in snakes, but because Rem had nothing to rub against and help get the skin off, there are a few bits still clinging to him. Hopefully those will naturally fall away now he has bark to rub against. If not, we need to give him a bath and gently remove them ourselves.

We returned home triumphantly. Remic did make a break for freedom in the taxi on the way back, but the nice thing about having a snake in a duvet is you can just shake him away from the opening whenever he tries to sneak out.

I will say that I'm definitely going to buy a proper reptile carrier sometime in the future. I sincerely hope we won't need to take Rem or Ket anywhere any time soon, but it never hurts to be prepared. And now Remic is back in his usual environs, having a good old nose around his hide and branches, and seems very content with life. Huzzahs!

And sitting in his water bowl, because he's not clever. So, for now, his epic adventure is at an end. I say "for now," because there is always a chance the Bulge will return. Basically, either it was benign or malignant. If it was malignant and the vet managed to fully remove it, we should be fine. If any tendrils got missed, it could come back. And even a returning benign tumour can be dangerous if it presses on vital organs. It's difficult to really know much about cancer in snakes, because most diagnoses come post-autopsy, sadly.

So we just don't know. Going forward, all we can do is check him carefully for any lumps and bumps and keep our fingers crossed. I'm hopeful, because that's just how I am. I would tell you to stay tuned for the Further Adventures of Remic, but with a little luck, there won't be any!

Battle of the Grotesque Bulge

When we last left our valiant hero, Sir Remic of Littlebrain, he was being left at the vet's for x-rays and ultrasounds to investigate the Grotesque Bulge that sprang up, seemingly overnight. That was Monday. On Tuesday, Remic (or "Sweetie Pie" as the vet called him), had his x-rays, which were fairly inconclusive. There is definitely a bulge and it's probably attached to his pancreas, was the verdict when I spoke to the vet.

So the next step was surgery on Wednesday, so the vet could see what the bulge was attached to, figure out what it was, and remove it. I can't deny, this turned my stomach a bit. Not because I didn't want him to have the surgery, but because I was scared he might not come round from it. Anesthetics can do weird things to snakes, things to do with temperature, metabolism, and breathing, which is, you know, sort of important.

But I obviously wanted him treated and I trust experts when they tell me their expert opinion, so of course, Rem had the surgery. That happened yesterday afternoon, and when I spoke to the nurse around 5pm yesterday, she said Rem was coming round and seemed fine. Huzzahs! The lump was removed, Sweetie Pie was stitched up, and I could come and collect him as soon as I was ready.

Unfortunately, for various reasons, I couldn't collect him yesterday, so he got to spend another day at the vet's. I went straight from work today (thank you, my darling Pip, for being my taxi), all ready to put Rem back in his glamourous duvet cover/washing basket combo, and take him home. Of course, it doesn't work quite like that.

First I spent some time with the nurse, hearing how Rem was doing ("he's a bit tetchy") and what his aftercare will be. He needs to go back in a week to have his stitches checked, and he needs to be in an environment where he can't damage the stitches in the meantime - no abrasive materials for him to rub against, no water bowl big enough for him to soak himself in. That's fine.

He also needs daily injections of antibiotics for a few days. "Are you happy to inject him?" the nurse asked. I regarded Remic, his head stuck under a towel in the vet's reptile carrier, oblivious to the world. "Sure," I said. So we had a practice at that. I've never injected anyone with anything before, and whilst I'm not squeamish, I am always really paranoid about hurting an animal when giving them medicine. A snake is a pretty tricky proposition, because they're a lot stronger and faster than you expect. Rem is an even trickier proposition because "tetchy" is his default mood.

Still! Never one to shy away from a new experience, I went for it. The nurse held his head and lower body, and I slid the needle under a scale to inject the meds. It's easier than it sounds, and it only took a few seconds. Rem flinched, but then seemed to immediately forget it had happened, which bodes well for the next few days. Huzzahs!

Then it was back in the duvet for the trip home.

And here he is, in what I'm thinking of as his recovery viv. We've taken out everything that might possibly damage the stitches, which was everything. Basically all the ornaments in his tank are designed to help with shedding, so nothing was suitable to leave in. He now has a bed sheet, a cereal box, and a smooth water bowl. He's supposed to be resting, but instead he's trying to figure out how to undo the snake lock, which has been his singular goal in life for as long as we've had him.

He is enjoying the cereal box, however. Which is good, because I don't know when the stitches will come out. When we take him back for his check-up in a week, we'll get to see the vet who operated on him, and hopefully then we'll learn a bit more about what the Bulge was and if it's likely to come back.

Meanwhile, Kyle and I get to take turns injecting Sweetie Pie with antibiotics while Ket looks on smugly. Fingers crossed for a full recovery for Sir Remic!

The Most Monday-ish Monday that Ever Mondayed

We had a plan for today. Kyle was due to go into hospital for back surgery this morning. I'd booked the day off work to accompany him for moral support and possibly to film him talking gibberish when he came round from the general anesthetic, and to make sure he got home in one piece.

And then the surgery was cancelled, because the surgeon has an eye infection. And I guess, yes, you don't want a visually-impaired surgeon messing around with your spine. So that happened. And I figured I may as well go to work and take back my day of annual leave, and use it later in the month when the surgery actually happens.

And then, whilst casually passing the snake tanks, I saw Remic. This is not unusual. What was unusual was the huge distended lump in the middle of my very slim and elegant idiot. I am 95% positive that was not there last time I looked. Panic ensued.

We were pretty sure it wasn't a gut issue, because he hadn't been fed for a while (in fact, today was supposed to be feeding day). Sometimes when a snake is constipated, you can deal with it yourself by bathing him in warm water, changing the temperature of his environment, or even just handling him yourself. But, like I say, given his feeding schedule, we thought this probably wasn't food-related. Luckily there is a vet in Cambridge that specialises in exotic pets, so I gave them a call, and after a few misunderstandings (I was very nearly registered as Naomi Quark, and Remic as Bulwick), we got an appointment.

An appointment hours and hours away, since I discovered the Grotesque Bulge around 11.30, and the appointment was at 5.15. That's a really long time to have to just hang around and worry about your pet. We were slightly mollified by the fact that Remic didn't seem to notice he had a Grotesque Bulge, but then Remic once bit himself in the tail, so...you know. He's not smart.

He would struggle to qualify as simple

Anyway, since we had no choice but to wait, we waited. I'd have to take him by myself, as Kyle was working from home, and I'd have to take a taxi. That was fine; the taxi company assured me they were happy to transport a snake. The question was, how was I going to transport a snake?

The answer is: in a duvet cover, in a washing basket. Let me say now that getting Remic into a duvet cover ranks up there as one of the most stressful things I've ever done, and I've worked with academics for nine years. He didn't want to go in the duvet cover. He wanted to go in my perfume drawer. This fundamental disagreement between us took place while Yuki, aghast at being shut in the living room, cried mournfully at us. She loves Remic. He's her favourite thing to sit and stare at for hours, and we were not only depriving her of this entertainment, but also keeping her behind a closed door, which she is opposed to on a molecular level.

So. Eventually we got Rem in the duvet cover. Then the taxi driver showed up, having simply been told I would have "a pet" with me. Needless to say, he wasn't expecting the pet to be tied up in a duvet cover. Nonetheless, he hid his concerns well and off we went.

The vet was brilliant, and Rem behaved himself uncharacteristically well, without biting anyone, including himself. Rem had no problems with me or the vet touching the Bulge, and didn't seem to be in any discomfort, but again...idiot. The problem was, the vet has no idea what's causing the Grotesque Bulge. He said it looked like fluid, but when he poked Rem (carefully) with a needle, no fluid of any kind came out. The Bulge is too low down to be a problem with Rem's heart or stomach, but could possibly be a gut issue or a tumour, although it didn't really feel like one according to the vet. We could be looking at some kind of infection or virus, but there's no way to tell with just an external examination.

So I've had to leave him there overnight so he can have x-rays and ultrasounds tomorrow. There is the possibility that these won't help with a diagnosis, but there's really nothing to lose by trying. I guess every animal lover knows how hard it is to leave your baby at the vets' for any reason, but I kind of take comfort in knowing that Rem will likely not notice any difference.

So there we are. That was a pretty long, worrying Monday that didn't go according to any kind of plan. I have to go back to the vet after work tomorrow, hopefully to bring Remic home. Ket is currently doing his best to fill the void by trying to eat a mouse tail-first, and Yuki is staring into Rem's empty vivarium in a slightly offended manner. And I am having my first cup of tea of the day - it's now gone 10pm and I'm about six cups behind my usual schedule - and waiting again. Waiting for news, be it good or bad. That kinda sucks. This year has not been kind to me on the pet front so far. I shall be crossing Yuki's paws and Ket's tail that Remic comes home without a Grotesque Bulge tomorrow.