Post-Op Day 4
Lola hadn’t had a poo, so off we went to the Dr Laskawy. Appointments, walk-ins, emergencies, and three hours staring at a woman whose patience suggested profound wisdom (or total defeat). She sat flanked by her two daughters, their boredom bordering on existential, and three guinea pigs with matching colds.
At 1 p.m., a nurse, with the smile of a seasoned diplomat, hinted that we’d be waiting at least another hour. I made an executive and restless decision: go home, coax the reluctant bowel into cooperation, and, if that failed, return later. Solid plan, right?
Well, Lola had a more theatrical sense of timing.
Moments into our homeward journey, she let it all out—right there in her carry bag. A triumph? Certainly. Except now I had a stinky dachshund, a bag full of poo, and an afternoon devoted to sanitation.
Post-Op Day 5
For once, there’s not much to report—and honestly, that’s a good thing. Just a quiet day at home, focused on keeping Lola comfortable. Rest, cuddle, repeat.
Progress? Slow and steady. Mood? Slightly less exhausted. Lola? Still 100% committed to never sleeping alone.
Post-Op Day 6
Dr Deutschland called to check on Lola and offered to meet at Forcki. An unusual setting for a post-op check but far better than an hour’s drive to Schmargendorf. A ten-minute walk from home? Luxurious.
So there we were: Lola in her freshly washed bag, Dr Deutschland—rising above the trees with the quiet dignity of a man who has never seen the world from eye level—and Ivy, his daughter’s Chihuahua, trotting beside him.
I bent to scratch Ivy’s head, and Lola growled: "I saw that and utterly disapprove." For all her worldly suffering, she still had energy for grudges.
Dr. Deutschland crouched and took Lola out of the bag. He ran his fingers along her spine, checked the wound, and set her down. She hit the grass like a Quasimodo-lizard reclaiming her park.
Then I asked: "How do I prevent another hernia? Another surgery?"
"You can't."
No elaboration. No hope. Final. Too final.
And yes, he has the degree, the experience, the surgical precision. But I am not yet prepared to surrender to that reality.
Dr. Deutschland was content with Lola’s current state, and that was that.