An iguana problem

I have mentioned previously that the consulting vet cannot anticipate the species of his next patient. An evening surgery in the Crawley practice demonstrated this fact perfectly whea gentleman brought in a long cardboard box containing a medium-sized iguana.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked.
“She’s off her food. Won’t eat a thing.”

I should confess at this point that I know little about iguanas despite reading Zoology as a Part 2 at university. But I had a look at the conjunctivae, the lining of the eyeball and its socket, and they seemed nice and pink. Stethoscope sounds from the chest suggested no problems there but, when I felt the abdomen, the intestines were obviously empty. Because food has to go in through the mouth, I opened its jaws and there was the problem staring me in the face. A large, perfectly round, tumour was pressing the tongue hard up against the roof of the mouth preventing the passage of any food. Being perfectly round and smooth the chances were that the growth was benign so if I could remove it the problem should resolve itself. I showed it to the owner who asked if I could do anything about it.
“I can try,” I replied not quite knowing how. “Leave it with me and I will have a think about it.”

The problem was that I had never anaesthetised an iguana before so I looked the subject up in the textbooks. These informed me that there are two methods of anaesthetising iguanas - either by using Halothane by mask, our usual anaesthetic, or by putting it in the fridge overnight. We tidied up the fridge sufficiently to accommodate the reptile and left for the night.

The next morning we were relieved to find the patient still alive, albeit breathing very slowly. My partner wafted a mixture of oxygen and Halothane towards the rather wooden victim while I prised open its tight jaws. A small scalpel blade run round the base of the tumour allowed it to pop out quite easily looking like a white table tennis ball. Small catgut sutures repaired the lining of the mouth and the job was done. Iguanas are cold-blooded creatures and its heartbeat had slowed dramatically in the fridge so there was hardly any blood loss at all. We put it back in its cardboard box and placed it on the central heating boiler. By mid-afternoon the patient had recovered sufficiently to tuck into a small meal of lettuce leaves and a few grapes. 

Never dismiss something as impossible until you have had a long think about it.