After posting about Honey B’s trip recent trip to the clinic, many of you on the blog and social media had great questions. I thought we could take this opportunity to answer a few in greater detail here.
How do you isolate a chimp that needs treatment in the veterinary clinic?
The first step in bringing a chimp into the veterinary clinic for treatment is to isolate them. Each wing of the building contains a series of smaller rooms, which we refer to as “front rooms” due to their proximity to the human areas of the building. The front rooms may not look like the most desirable places for a chimp to spend their time but they are open to the chimps on a regular basis just like the playrooms and greenhouses and are actually quite popular spots for sleeping, monitoring the humans’ activity, watching television, or simply finding a quiet spot away from the rest of the group. They are generally smaller (most are approximately 8’W x 8’L x 10’H) and they have surfaces meant for easy cleaning and disinfection, as opposed to, say, the grass, mulch, and bamboo found in the greenhouses. One front room in each wing lacks the benches, ladders, food chutes, and other more permanent “furniture” found in the others, and these are the rooms where we isolate the chimps for anesthesia. The lack of furniture limits the potential for a chimp to fall as they succumb to the anesthetic, as some chimps may be inclined to climb up and perch if they are feeling sick or scared.
Cy likes to read magazines in the medical room (Front Room 7):
If a treatment or exam is planned in advance, we typically try to get the patient into one of these medical rooms the night before. This is done for two reasons: 1) so that we can begin early the next day, and 2) so that we can restrict their food and water intake. In the new wing, for example, each “lixit,” or water fountain, has its own shutoff so we can turn just their water off a couple hours before the procedure. Of course, some procedures are conducted on an emergency basis and we have no choice but to forego fasting.
Getting the patient into the medical room—and getting the others out!—is the part of the process that strikes fear into the hearts of caregivers everywhere, especially when outside professionals are coming to assist with the procedure (No pressure but the cardiologist will be here promptly at 7am and the dental surgeon has to get back to their practice by 10!). Though it can be a challenge, the staff have always been successful (eventually). It just takes a little patience and a lot of bribery. Honestly, sometimes the cattle are more difficult to sort than the chimps.
Ideally, we end up with the patient in the medical room with the other front rooms empty so that there is no peanut gallery to cause interference and we can safely enter adjoining rooms if necessary. We have found that, contrary to what one might think, there is no reason to restrict the rest of the group from seeing what is happening and in fact letting them observe from afar seems to help ease their concerns. Thus, they can often watch from a nearby window.
How do you get a chimp into the veterinary clinic?
Once the chimps are in the clinic they are usually maintained on a gas anesthetic, but they have to be immobilized before we can safely take them out of the front rooms in the first place. For this we use an injectable anesthetic. And there’s just no getting around it—this part usually stinks.
We often begin with an oral sedative or anesthetic to help reduce their fear and anxiety, and follow this sometime later with an injectable to fully anesthetize them. Many of the chimps have been trained, or in some cases maybe even learned on their own, to cooperate with the injection. Right off the bat this takes 90% of the stress out of the process. For the chimps that do cooperate, our Positive Reinforcement Team works to maintain that cooperation through routine practice with blunt or small-gauge needles—getting the chimps to present an arm or leg against the caging, poking them, and then rewarding them for their participation. For those who don’t, the team meets them wherever they are and works to increase their tolerance without provoking fear or anxiety. Will every chimp that spent decades in a lab getting poked and prodded against their will learn to cooperate? It’s theoretically possible but logistically improbable. Still, it’s a worthwhile goal.
When a chimp doesn’t present for the injection-by-hand, we have to fall back on other methods such as a pole syringe or the dart gun. Ideally, they have enough oral sedative or anesthetic on board that the trauma of the injection is short-lived and quickly forgotten.
Once they’ve been given the injection, we turn the lights down, remain quiet, and monitor them. If we got the full dose in, they are out within 10-15 minutes but sometimes they need to be “bumped up” before we enter the room. We have a number of tests to evaluate their plane of anesthesia so they we don’t get surprised by a seemingly immobilized chimp suddenly jumping off the cot on the way out the door. The staff lift the chimp into the stretcher, roll them onto a scale to quickly check their weight against the last measurement we had on them from the bench scales inside their enclosures, and then it’s off to the clinic, where a team is waiting to start the IV and gas anesthesia.
The staff monitor Honey B with the lights dimmed after her anesthetic induction:
What happens when the procedure is over?
As the procedure is nearing its end, the chimps are taken off the gas anesthetic, which will continue to have an effect, and wheeled back to their room, which in the meantime has been cleaned and set up with piles of blankets for comfort and space heater just outside the caging for extra warmth. Depending on which type of anesthetics they were given and how much, it can take them anywhere from minutes to hours to begin to sit up. During this time we pay close attention to their vitals and their airway since anesthesia continues to present serious risks until they are fully recovered. If the chimp only underwent an exam, they could theoretically rejoin their group as soon as that same evening, provided it is clear they could safely run and climb around the enclosures should the group get a little rowdy. But typically they will get a good night’s sleep and rejoin the group the next day. If the recovery is slow or the chimp underwent a major procedure, staff will either sleep at the chimp house or come up to check on the patient throughout the night, with many photos and status updates shared amongst the staff for peace of mind.
The staff monitor Honey B as she lays in a bed of blankets in the medical room just outside the clinic:
Are you interested in learning more about the veterinary care provided at Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest? Check out some of our veterinary blog archives.
Still have questions? Ask away and we’ll do our best to answer in the comments below.
Thanks for the detailed description of how you isolate a chimp going to have a medical procedure and how you handle the chimp’s recovery. Excellent!
I knew my question would be J.B.-centric! Thank you for the in-depth explanation/description of the procedures to prepare for the procedures. Something I wanted to share with you. I read the other day that cattle really enjoy and need toys/enrichment. We usually just see them grazing and enjoying their space in general, so I didn’t know if that is something you do for them. Or maybe it’s something I missed in a blog that was posted before my time.
We have had such a tough time finding enrichment that our cattle will use. I actually tend to think that if they are in a herd of a sufficient size and they have a large and varied environment with grazing opportunities that they don’t require supplemental enrichment. But so often they are fed hay on one location, restricted due to weather, and so on. And yet ours are tough to entertain. Right not that are getting some of their hay out of hay bags, which slow down their rate of feeding and make it more of a challenge, and of course we try to have many devices for them to scratch on. If you come across any great cattle enrichment ideas, send them our way!
Brushes. Cows just love brushes – small brushes, big brushes, simple brushes, automated rotating brushes, everything. Just fix a few brushes on the wall/gate, probably they’ll use it to rub and scratch themselves. Anything that they can poke with their horns, hanging big balls or tyres – you and also put the hay into the tyre. And classical music, of course. 🙂
Yes, we have brushes of all kinds! No horns in our herd, but they do have balls and tires, which they don’t interact with.
Ooooohhhhh, I see………….:worried:
Another fascinating and informative post, J.B. Thank you! I’ve spent at least the last hour reading today’s post plus those reached via the various hyperlinks. I agree with all the comments appreciating how absolutely proud we all are of the care and ethics and training you’ve undertaken to give these (our) chimps the absolute best. The posts were reminders of how much they’ve been through and how much additional consideration each decision needs to be given before undertaking any action. My mind and heart are overflowing yet I’m at a loss to really express how I feel about all of this. My certainty that, no matter what happens, the chimps are under the best possible conditions. Thank you to you and all the staff and supporters!
I like to think the answer to this question would be yes, but I have always wondered do you think the chimps understand that when you sedate them that it is not like in the labs, that is is for help and not for harm?
Surely ,using Jody’s toe as an example, she would understand that she showed you the toe, you all assessed it, she was sedated and when she came to, she had stitches and special care for a few days. Would they understand that you have helped the situation or am I reading too much ‘human’ into this
I think in many situations they do know that we are there to help, particulary, as you suggest, when they have suffered an acute injury. At other times they must wonder why they have been singled out for such treatment. The good thing is that they generally forgive and forget.
many thanks,J B, for taking the time in explaining the intricate procedures in this situations. Your care and compassion for your beloved reside.nts shines through.
Thank you J.B. for explaining the entire process in detail. So many levels of pressure at every stage for all of you, as if the worry for your patient isn’t enough. Do you ever worry if a chimp could come out of sedation just enough to be difficult to manage when you are moving them back into the recovery room?
I say it often, genuinely heartfelt, but I have to say it again—thank you, thank you to the entire staff! Your steadfast devotion and your ability to work under pressure while keeping your emotions under control (not to mention the patience needed) is truly remarkable. Thank you, each of you, for all you do.
We’ve never had that problem on the way back from the clinic because the isofluourane gas keeps them pretty knocked out for a while. Even if they start to cough or attempt to roll over, they can’t really coordinate their actions at that point to go anywhere. And the same is true for most inductions – they might be a little light on anesthesia but it usually means their arms are just a little wiggly, not that they would be able to get up and run. The only exception is when we do a cageside exam with a particular combination of drugs which is easy on the chimps and quickly reversible. The downside to this combo is that as the procedure goes on and one of the drugs is metabolized, the chimps can be “awoken” from the anesthesia by loud noises. So this is only done in the cage and not when they are experiencing any pain from an injury or the procedure. It has only happened once but it is certainly startling when a chimp starts to sit up!
Thank you for the reply. It is all very fascinating.
If they are injured, do they generally know/realize you are just trying to help them and come into the isolation room more willingly? Take Bubba for instance. He probably knows well enough by now that if he gets a snakebite he better come to you right away. Do you think?
That is generally true when they are injured but Burrito is a unique case – he hates being anesthetized and will fight it with every fiber of his being. It’s easy to isolate him but very hard to inject him. Sometimes they have a lifetime of fear associated with the injections and that fear is hard to overcome, even when they know they need help.
Thank you AGAIN AND AGAIN to every supporter. Every dime counts towards having the right equipment on hand for almost any emergency. And a vet right on site! Whether it’s $10 or $10,000, thank you!
Thank you, JB
I just wanted to add another “thank you” for including the link to the 2022 blog post “First, Do No Harm”. I recall this post but I felt as if I was reading it for the first time. I am impressed how sanctuaries work together for the betterment of primates in their care. A good reason to support NAPSA.
I stand by my comment on that post because your scrutiny knows no limits and the chimpanzees and cattle in your care are all the better for it. I wish my medical team cared half as much.
“ I support your sanctuary because I know you never do anything lightly. You bring your head and heart to the table every time. You go above and beyond. I believe those in your care understand this at some level too. “