The syringes broke, one by one, the first time I did C-section
There is always a first time for everything, and when it happens, it will stand out in your mind afterwards, for one reason or another.
The first time you drive a car, climb a mountain, or play in Croke Park!
I always remember the first time I had to do a caesarean section.
I was not long qualified, and was all gung ho.
The call was to a Simmental cow that was having difficulty calving.
The client was away on holidays, and his retired father was left in charge.
He watched as I tried to calve the cow through the normal channel.
The caesarean section decision was an easy one to arrive at, because the calf was a monster.
There was absolutely no way that he (as it turned out) could fit out through the cow’s pelvis. The ones that are difficult are the ones that you think might be small enough to make it out, but, having tried for a time, you eventually come to the realisation they are not.
Once you make the decision in good time, there is no harm done.
The cow was stalled in to a wooden bail.
I set about getting things ready to start the operation.
I asked the farmer to get me some hot water in clean buckets.
When we were ready, I shaved the side of the cow.
Being proud of the job that I had done so far, I set about numbing the site for my incision. It seemed to me that every time I prodded the cow’s skin with a needle, she showed her objection with a massive kick, and the end of the syringe would break.
I’m not sure how many new syringes I went through, before I succeeded in anaesthetising the area that I needed.
I could see that the farmer was getting a bit uneasy during all of this.
But eventually the cow settled down, and I was able to proceed with the operation.
Everything was pretty straightforward from that point, and I went on to deliver a huge bull calf.
He was a joy to behold as he snorted to clear his nostrils of mucus, and blinked his eyes as he became accustomed to his new surroundings.
The stitching up of all the incisions takes quite some time, as you want to give each layer as good a chance of healing as you can.
As the years roll on, and you learn from experience, you get better at gauging how big you need to make each opening, so that the closing-up time can be as short as possible, which also helps with the healing process.
All the teaching that I had learned at college stood to me, as both cow and calf enjoyed good health from that day on. Indeed, the cow calved down again the following year, giving me a great sense of pleasure.
Other caesarean sections over the years stand out in my mind.
There was a night that I went out to calve a cow, and found that she had a bony protrusion in the roof of her pelvis.
This was severely narrowing the pelvic canal, leaving no room for a normal birth, and we proceeded with a section.
I recommended that they not get her in calf again, as the same problem was going to arise in future years.
The following spring, I was called to the same farm, and the boys lit up their fags and watched from the corner of the byre, waiting to see my reaction as I handled the same cow.
The same thing happened for the following two years, before they finally called it a day with her.
