This is an email/journal entry from my first year of practice. Kathy, the lady in the letter is alive and well and I saw her last week. She has a new kitten, named Buddy, and she is such a sweet woman. She is so vibrant and strong. I told her of this letter - of the impact that day had on my professional career, and I sent it to her. She brought me a journal a few days later with the inscription: I love your writing... please continue.
Instead of writing about the rodeos and injuries, I thought I would let you guys see the more vulnerable side of vet med. At least for a rookie doc. Warning: this one is a tear jerker (if you are prone.....)
January 4th, 2003
Today was a pretty normal, not-too-crazy Saturday. (Except for a
hair-losing Guinea Pig) The last appointment of the day however is
still weighing heavy on my heart. On December 4th I met a new client
named Kathy Brereton. She had a cat named Buddy ("Bud Bud") who had
just not been feeling well. A chemistry panel revealed what I
suspected – kidney failure. She also had a whopping heart murmur.
Kathy took the news especially hard – and further conversation
revealed that Kathy had just started chemo for breast cancer. Her
tumor was too big to remove just yet – they were trying chemo to
shrink it. I even went over her own blood work with her. I knew
that Buddy didn't have a really long time – and I tried my best to
prepare Kathy and explain to her what to look for when it was time to
tell Buddy goodbye.
Kathy brought in some cookies and a Christmas card to us a few days
before the 25th. She was the only client to bring something in with
MY name on it. Not Dr. Bowman's. That is very cool. I kept the
card. (And ate the cookies.)
Kathy 's friend Ellen called us this morning. Ellen is also a client
and a breast cancer survivor. She is in Kathy's support group and is
a surrogate mom to her of sorts. (Kathy's own mom has passed away.)
She called to say that it was time to euthanize Buddy. It was scheduled
as the last appointment in the day. I knew it would be hard, but,
geesh.
Kathy explained to me that she has a friend that is a vet that
treated Buddy earlier in the week with 3 days of IV fluids. She
didn't improve and her kidney values were pretty crappy. Buddy
started vomiting last night and was just feeling terrible. Our
records showed that she had lost a pound since Dec. I talked to them
about what was going to happen – that I would do an injection into the
heart and hand her back to Kathy. Normally, I hit the heart and the cat dies
within 30 seconds. This morning I missed. BUT – it worked really
well. Kathy held Buddy and she peacefully went to sleep and died
very gently over a period of 10 minutes or so. We talked while she
was passing – talked about life and death and people. About
compassion and dying with dignity. About fighting and letting go.
We talked about Africa. :)
I wish Buddy was still there for Kathy. She said that she RAN to
greet her at the door every time she came home. And Kathy wishes
that she had more strength to try and take care of Buddy. Her vet
friend told her about doing sub-q fluids twice a week to try and keep
her alive. Kathy knew that she wouldn't be able to do that – and she
didn't think that was fair to Bud Bud. I agreed. But the harsh
reality of losing an unconditional loving companion at such a hard
time in her life is … hard. It doesn't seem fair.
Kathy has a presence about her that I just connected with. She has
strength in her eyes and a lovely compassion and understanding in her
voice. I don't want to forget her. And I hope I'll see her again
with her other cat – under better circumstances.
This profession is about so much more that I had bargained for. To
do a good job at it I have to open my heart – open it up to the
people and animals that I care for (for I am realizing more and more
every day that I care for both.) Opening it up to experience the joy
that comes when I witness a miracle and opening it up to experiencing
that immense pain that comes when I look into a person's eyes and see
the grief that comes when their pet, their friend, dies. Good grief
it hurts. And it beats me up. But if I close that emotion off, then
I miss the point – I miss the bigger picture. I can't have the joy
and not have the pain – it doesn't work that way.
I've resolved to take the beatings. God will pick me up when I fall.
And He will also take care of Kathy. I pray that He will replace
the loss of Buddy with a new friend – one even more loving and strong
than she.
I love my job.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Shoulder
Ok, so it's time that I write about my shoulder accident. I've been meaning to for weeks, but, well, it's been a long few weeks. :)
Inky Johnson is a football player for UT. The day my accident happened I was talking to Dr. Nice about him and his injury. Inky really, really screwed up his shoulder during a game - damaging the nerves so extensively that he will never play football again and might never have useful function of his arm. Pretty terrible.
And it was fresh on my mind when my arm lay behind my body unable to move.
Thankfully, my injury was MUCH less severe than Inky's. Whew.
Since I've been in VA, I've done a lot of horse work. Though I didn't grow up with horses, I have a knack for dealing with them (so I've been told.) I'm not scared of them - they can't bluff me. I'm also pretty stubborn when I'm working with them, which I have said numerous times is going to get me hurt 'one day.' 'One day' has come and gone.
That 'one day' was Friday, September 22nd. I was doing pre-purchase exams on two yearling Irish Sport horse colts. Though only a year of age (horses grow until they are 2-3) they were both very large. Typical for the breed. One of these horses was a stallion - and though he was very good for most of his exam (especially considering he was a baby) the owner told me he was very needle shy. I needed a blood sample from his jugular and he didn't exactly like the idea.
I tried numerous tricks to get this blood. I have never NOT gotten a blood sample from a horse. Never. At one point I had a half a tube of blood - enough - then the tube fell from his neck and he stepped on it. I cringed as I watched the glass break beneath his hoof and his blood spread out on the ground - useless to me. bah. At my wits end, I blindfolded him with a towel over his eyes and then attempted to put a twitch on his nose. A twitch is a metal clamp of sorts that causes an endorphin release and usually has a calming effect on horses. That's once you get it on their nose. I need to set this up for you visually so you will understand what happened:
I was standing in front of a very tall, young stallion with his eyes covered. His owner was holding a lead rope attached to his halter and she was standing to my right. I approached him from the front and grabbed his nose with my left hand in order to put the twitch on and hold it closed (think clamp) with my right. He immediately jerked his head back (as I would) and pulled his nose free from the twitch. I repeated the process again, only REALLY holding on with my right hand this time - very tightly. He backed up - I went with him. He pulled his head up - I hung on. (This is where my stubbornness got the better of me....) He then reared up on his back feet and he pulled me underneath him (cause I didn't let go). I turned to my left to get out from under him but as he brought his front legs back down to the ground, my shoulder got in the way. And how.
Now, he was blindfolded - he couldn't see me. I really don't think he was trying to hurt me. He was just fed up with me messing with him.
Anyway, he knocked me to the ground, but somehow didn't step on me. The owner calmed him down, removed his blindfold, and put him away. I was knocked to my left side and as I sat up, I realized that my right arm was behind me - and I couldn't move it.
Insert horror flash thought of Inky Johnson.
I used my left arm to bring my right arm to my lap and then the worst tingling and burning I have ever felt commenced to overtake my forearm and hand. I can only figure that I hit my elbow (and the not-so-funny bone) in the process. The owner of the horse is an ER nurse and she asked me if I was ok. I replied "I don't think so." I was very calm. Very cool. I started to wiggle my fingers. Sigh. That's good. I felt up and down my arm - nothing was broken. Yeah. Then I tried to move my arm - uh oh. It no workey. Without taking my clothes off, the nurse figured that I had dislocated my shoulder. Crap. I was supposed to work all weekend!
I was doing a pre-purchase exam, which is an exam before a horse is purchased, so both buyer and seller were present. (We like to name things accordingly in vet med so no one is confused.) The buyer and seller helped me to my feet and got me to my truck. I got my cell phone and called the clinic to let them know I was out of commission for at least the day and on my way to the ER. Then I started to cry. I'm not sure why. I wasn't hurting that bad. I guess it's the adrenaline rush let-down.... I don't know.
It was decided that I would leave my truck there - and the buyer of the horses would drive me to the hospital 40 minutes away and someone from the clinic would come and get my truck. The nurse gave me 4 Advil before I left - and I'm SO thankful that she did - cause it really started hurting on the way and they didn't give me any pain meds at the hospital.
I cried off and on all the way to the hospital - being very upset with myself that I was crying. (Which only made me cry more!) Rachael, my office manager, was waiting on me when I got to the ER. Then I really started crying. I cried as I told the admissions nurse what I thought was wrong. They took me right back to a room and helped me get my clothes off so I could get a good look at my non-functioning arm. I cried as I told the nurse what happened. I cried as they took my x-rays and as I looked at them. (No dislocation! But why can't I move it?!?) And I cried as the very cute doctor told me what actually was wrong - a separated shoulder. I cried as Rachael called Matt and as she told me that he would be there as soon as possible. And I cried most of the night when I tried to talk about it. Maybe I just needed a good cry. :)
The next day I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I guess this horse was in reality only slightly smaller than a truck - hah! My left neck and back were so sore I could barely move. Matt was my hero - he took very good care of me all weekend. And Dr. Nice and Dr. Bowman took over my work duty. They are great friends to me.
A separated shoulder is a ligament injury. It's a tear between the collarbone and the shoulder. There are a lot of muscles that attach there and that's why I couldn't lift my arm. I saw an orthopedic surgeon a week later and he said that time would heal it.
It's been a month now - and my shoulder has improved everyday. It still hurts like crazy sometimes, but I can now lift it above my head!!! Yeah!!! My bicep has shriveled from non-use. And though it was never big by any means, it now is soooo tiny!!! So sad.
Will I keep working on horses? You bet. Am I scared of them? No… but perhaps I’ll be a little more cautious. Will I be smarter and less stubborn now? For the time being. But in a couple of years I'll probably be back to hanging on to twitches 2 seconds longer than I should.....
Yee haw!
Inky Johnson is a football player for UT. The day my accident happened I was talking to Dr. Nice about him and his injury. Inky really, really screwed up his shoulder during a game - damaging the nerves so extensively that he will never play football again and might never have useful function of his arm. Pretty terrible.
And it was fresh on my mind when my arm lay behind my body unable to move.
Thankfully, my injury was MUCH less severe than Inky's. Whew.
Since I've been in VA, I've done a lot of horse work. Though I didn't grow up with horses, I have a knack for dealing with them (so I've been told.) I'm not scared of them - they can't bluff me. I'm also pretty stubborn when I'm working with them, which I have said numerous times is going to get me hurt 'one day.' 'One day' has come and gone.
That 'one day' was Friday, September 22nd. I was doing pre-purchase exams on two yearling Irish Sport horse colts. Though only a year of age (horses grow until they are 2-3) they were both very large. Typical for the breed. One of these horses was a stallion - and though he was very good for most of his exam (especially considering he was a baby) the owner told me he was very needle shy. I needed a blood sample from his jugular and he didn't exactly like the idea.
I tried numerous tricks to get this blood. I have never NOT gotten a blood sample from a horse. Never. At one point I had a half a tube of blood - enough - then the tube fell from his neck and he stepped on it. I cringed as I watched the glass break beneath his hoof and his blood spread out on the ground - useless to me. bah. At my wits end, I blindfolded him with a towel over his eyes and then attempted to put a twitch on his nose. A twitch is a metal clamp of sorts that causes an endorphin release and usually has a calming effect on horses. That's once you get it on their nose. I need to set this up for you visually so you will understand what happened:
I was standing in front of a very tall, young stallion with his eyes covered. His owner was holding a lead rope attached to his halter and she was standing to my right. I approached him from the front and grabbed his nose with my left hand in order to put the twitch on and hold it closed (think clamp) with my right. He immediately jerked his head back (as I would) and pulled his nose free from the twitch. I repeated the process again, only REALLY holding on with my right hand this time - very tightly. He backed up - I went with him. He pulled his head up - I hung on. (This is where my stubbornness got the better of me....) He then reared up on his back feet and he pulled me underneath him (cause I didn't let go). I turned to my left to get out from under him but as he brought his front legs back down to the ground, my shoulder got in the way. And how.
Now, he was blindfolded - he couldn't see me. I really don't think he was trying to hurt me. He was just fed up with me messing with him.
Anyway, he knocked me to the ground, but somehow didn't step on me. The owner calmed him down, removed his blindfold, and put him away. I was knocked to my left side and as I sat up, I realized that my right arm was behind me - and I couldn't move it.
Insert horror flash thought of Inky Johnson.
I used my left arm to bring my right arm to my lap and then the worst tingling and burning I have ever felt commenced to overtake my forearm and hand. I can only figure that I hit my elbow (and the not-so-funny bone) in the process. The owner of the horse is an ER nurse and she asked me if I was ok. I replied "I don't think so." I was very calm. Very cool. I started to wiggle my fingers. Sigh. That's good. I felt up and down my arm - nothing was broken. Yeah. Then I tried to move my arm - uh oh. It no workey. Without taking my clothes off, the nurse figured that I had dislocated my shoulder. Crap. I was supposed to work all weekend!
I was doing a pre-purchase exam, which is an exam before a horse is purchased, so both buyer and seller were present. (We like to name things accordingly in vet med so no one is confused.) The buyer and seller helped me to my feet and got me to my truck. I got my cell phone and called the clinic to let them know I was out of commission for at least the day and on my way to the ER. Then I started to cry. I'm not sure why. I wasn't hurting that bad. I guess it's the adrenaline rush let-down.... I don't know.
It was decided that I would leave my truck there - and the buyer of the horses would drive me to the hospital 40 minutes away and someone from the clinic would come and get my truck. The nurse gave me 4 Advil before I left - and I'm SO thankful that she did - cause it really started hurting on the way and they didn't give me any pain meds at the hospital.
I cried off and on all the way to the hospital - being very upset with myself that I was crying. (Which only made me cry more!) Rachael, my office manager, was waiting on me when I got to the ER. Then I really started crying. I cried as I told the admissions nurse what I thought was wrong. They took me right back to a room and helped me get my clothes off so I could get a good look at my non-functioning arm. I cried as I told the nurse what happened. I cried as they took my x-rays and as I looked at them. (No dislocation! But why can't I move it?!?) And I cried as the very cute doctor told me what actually was wrong - a separated shoulder. I cried as Rachael called Matt and as she told me that he would be there as soon as possible. And I cried most of the night when I tried to talk about it. Maybe I just needed a good cry. :)
The next day I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I guess this horse was in reality only slightly smaller than a truck - hah! My left neck and back were so sore I could barely move. Matt was my hero - he took very good care of me all weekend. And Dr. Nice and Dr. Bowman took over my work duty. They are great friends to me.
A separated shoulder is a ligament injury. It's a tear between the collarbone and the shoulder. There are a lot of muscles that attach there and that's why I couldn't lift my arm. I saw an orthopedic surgeon a week later and he said that time would heal it.
It's been a month now - and my shoulder has improved everyday. It still hurts like crazy sometimes, but I can now lift it above my head!!! Yeah!!! My bicep has shriveled from non-use. And though it was never big by any means, it now is soooo tiny!!! So sad.
Will I keep working on horses? You bet. Am I scared of them? No… but perhaps I’ll be a little more cautious. Will I be smarter and less stubborn now? For the time being. But in a couple of years I'll probably be back to hanging on to twitches 2 seconds longer than I should.....
Yee haw!
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Injuries - old and new
So, this vet thing can sometimes be hazardous to your health. :)
I'm fine.
Sort of.
I meant to write several weeks ago as I had a revisit to one of the first farms I visited here in VA.
But I'm going to be really random and travel back even further and explain how it is that I came to be here in VA. Hang on. I'm feeling a little..... texty.
(I just made myself laugh out loud.)
When I was a senior in vet school, I began looking for jobs all over the US. There is a veterinary journal that most clinics advertise in when they are looking to hire new vets. I went through every state listed and made a note of any clinics that were of interest. For those that had an email address, I emailed my resume. For those that did not, I snail mailed it. I sent resumes to approximately 50-60 clinics. My criteria were as follows: I wanted to work in a mixed animal practice. I wanted to be near the mountains. I wanted to work with licensed veterinary technicians. I wanted to work in a high-quality practice - for I was told repeatedly that the habits you learn the first year of practice stay with you for you lifetime. (The place I chose met all those, BTW.)
So, I had this huge stack of clinics in my "possible job" stack. And over the following weeks I had a ton of phone interviews and even traveled to Kentucky, North Carolina, Georgia, and Pennsylvania to do in-person interviews. I talked with vets in Colorado, Idaho, (darn! I really wanted to go to Idaho!) Wyoming, California, and Montanta. And all along there was this practice in VA that kept resurfacing in my stack. I had emailed them my resume - but the email address in the journal was mis-printed and it bounced back to me. No prob - bottom of the stack it goes. More weeks go by. I have graduated and I don't have a job. I'm a little stressed about that. Perhaps I should give this clinic in VA a call. I have written the phone # down - incorrectly - and the job is no longer posted in the journal. Rargh. Things are not looking good for VA. But, I ask my best friends if they have the number. They do. (BTW, I still have the piece of paper that I wrote "Waynesboro" on.) :) I called the clinic. I asked if I could come visit..... the next day. "Sure." I had no idea what I was walking into and I was so 'over' the interview process that I completely forgot to even bring along a resume! I, a total stranger, just show up at mid day, spend the night, and work a little more the next day, then come home. But before I leave, I am told that my future employer 'really needs to see a resume and have some references.' That probably would be the professional way to do things.
He liked my resume and invited me to a three day interview to see how I would fit in with the practice. I was to stay at his home and go everywhere and do everything he did. Cool. Trial by fire. Indeed.
I remember several things about those 3 days. I remember TWO uterine prolapses in one day. I had made it all the way through vet school without seeing one and here I see TWO in the same day. I remember asking 'is this normal?' (Thank goodness, it is not!) I also remember getting kicked. And how.
I visited the farm it happened on a few weeks ago. I had not stepped foot nor driven by this farm since that day. Nostalgia swept over me as I turned into the driveway. I remember Dr. Bowman saying as we drove past the old colonial house that it would be great to sit on that porch reading a good book. I remember the corral and the chute. I remember the kick. :)
At this point, I think the story would be better told as I told it originally. Bear with me as I find that old email....
Found it. Here it is:
He had me do all of the drop-off cases (mostly vaccinations) then we
headed out to run some farm calls. He told me of what he had heard
about me from my references and that if what they said was true, then
he was very interested in getting to know me. :) We ran this one
call, I think it was Thursday, where we castrated some calves using a
clamp - something I had never done before. It was very awkward and
very, very difficult for me to do physically. It took every ounce of
strength I could muster in order to get the job done. But I didn't
quit. Not even after being pooped on on the side of the head
(complete with an ear full and some on my lips - yum!) - not even
after getting wholloped in the neck. This one calf kicked the
absolute crap out of me. (picture is attached of the bruise - it
hurts worse than it looks - I honestly thought I had broken my
collarbone) It was all I could do not to cry - but I was determined
not to. I just kept working. When they asked me if I was okay (they
saw the immediate knot develop) all I could do was nod my head - if I
had tried to say anything, I would have started crying. When all was
said and done I was complimented by both farmer and Dr. Bowman for my
"grit". Bonus points. :) The farmer said that if that had been him
and a calf kicked him that hard, he would have handed of the clamp
and said "that's quite enough for me". Quite possibly one of the
best compliments I've ever been given.
What actually transpired is that the calf the farmer was holding by the tail (so he couldn't kick me) began to lay down. Right as I was about to 'clamp' him, Dr. Bowman advised the farmer to let up a little on the tail. He let up a little much and as I backed away from the calf to get leverage to close the clamp.... WHAM!!! I got blasted with the leg in full extension. I finished the job. Then I was done.
So, as I started this blog I was explaining how I went to that farm again recently. And that farmer also recounted the event - again saying how impressed he was with me that day. He then went on to tell me that everytime he sees Dr. Bowman, he hears nothing but good stories about me. :)
I also recently separated my shoulder. But I'm tired. I'll tell that story later. :)
It's pretty good, too. More drama than this one. Drama drama. That's my life.
I'm fine.
Sort of.
I meant to write several weeks ago as I had a revisit to one of the first farms I visited here in VA.
But I'm going to be really random and travel back even further and explain how it is that I came to be here in VA. Hang on. I'm feeling a little..... texty.
(I just made myself laugh out loud.)
When I was a senior in vet school, I began looking for jobs all over the US. There is a veterinary journal that most clinics advertise in when they are looking to hire new vets. I went through every state listed and made a note of any clinics that were of interest. For those that had an email address, I emailed my resume. For those that did not, I snail mailed it. I sent resumes to approximately 50-60 clinics. My criteria were as follows: I wanted to work in a mixed animal practice. I wanted to be near the mountains. I wanted to work with licensed veterinary technicians. I wanted to work in a high-quality practice - for I was told repeatedly that the habits you learn the first year of practice stay with you for you lifetime. (The place I chose met all those, BTW.)
So, I had this huge stack of clinics in my "possible job" stack. And over the following weeks I had a ton of phone interviews and even traveled to Kentucky, North Carolina, Georgia, and Pennsylvania to do in-person interviews. I talked with vets in Colorado, Idaho, (darn! I really wanted to go to Idaho!) Wyoming, California, and Montanta. And all along there was this practice in VA that kept resurfacing in my stack. I had emailed them my resume - but the email address in the journal was mis-printed and it bounced back to me. No prob - bottom of the stack it goes. More weeks go by. I have graduated and I don't have a job. I'm a little stressed about that. Perhaps I should give this clinic in VA a call. I have written the phone # down - incorrectly - and the job is no longer posted in the journal. Rargh. Things are not looking good for VA. But, I ask my best friends if they have the number. They do. (BTW, I still have the piece of paper that I wrote "Waynesboro" on.) :) I called the clinic. I asked if I could come visit..... the next day. "Sure." I had no idea what I was walking into and I was so 'over' the interview process that I completely forgot to even bring along a resume! I, a total stranger, just show up at mid day, spend the night, and work a little more the next day, then come home. But before I leave, I am told that my future employer 'really needs to see a resume and have some references.' That probably would be the professional way to do things.
He liked my resume and invited me to a three day interview to see how I would fit in with the practice. I was to stay at his home and go everywhere and do everything he did. Cool. Trial by fire. Indeed.
I remember several things about those 3 days. I remember TWO uterine prolapses in one day. I had made it all the way through vet school without seeing one and here I see TWO in the same day. I remember asking 'is this normal?' (Thank goodness, it is not!) I also remember getting kicked. And how.
I visited the farm it happened on a few weeks ago. I had not stepped foot nor driven by this farm since that day. Nostalgia swept over me as I turned into the driveway. I remember Dr. Bowman saying as we drove past the old colonial house that it would be great to sit on that porch reading a good book. I remember the corral and the chute. I remember the kick. :)
At this point, I think the story would be better told as I told it originally. Bear with me as I find that old email....
Found it. Here it is:
He had me do all of the drop-off cases (mostly vaccinations) then we
headed out to run some farm calls. He told me of what he had heard
about me from my references and that if what they said was true, then
he was very interested in getting to know me. :) We ran this one
call, I think it was Thursday, where we castrated some calves using a
clamp - something I had never done before. It was very awkward and
very, very difficult for me to do physically. It took every ounce of
strength I could muster in order to get the job done. But I didn't
quit. Not even after being pooped on on the side of the head
(complete with an ear full and some on my lips - yum!) - not even
after getting wholloped in the neck. This one calf kicked the
absolute crap out of me. (picture is attached of the bruise - it
hurts worse than it looks - I honestly thought I had broken my
collarbone) It was all I could do not to cry - but I was determined
not to. I just kept working. When they asked me if I was okay (they
saw the immediate knot develop) all I could do was nod my head - if I
had tried to say anything, I would have started crying. When all was
said and done I was complimented by both farmer and Dr. Bowman for my
"grit". Bonus points. :) The farmer said that if that had been him
and a calf kicked him that hard, he would have handed of the clamp
and said "that's quite enough for me". Quite possibly one of the
best compliments I've ever been given.
What actually transpired is that the calf the farmer was holding by the tail (so he couldn't kick me) began to lay down. Right as I was about to 'clamp' him, Dr. Bowman advised the farmer to let up a little on the tail. He let up a little much and as I backed away from the calf to get leverage to close the clamp.... WHAM!!! I got blasted with the leg in full extension. I finished the job. Then I was done.
So, as I started this blog I was explaining how I went to that farm again recently. And that farmer also recounted the event - again saying how impressed he was with me that day. He then went on to tell me that everytime he sees Dr. Bowman, he hears nothing but good stories about me. :)
I also recently separated my shoulder. But I'm tired. I'll tell that story later. :)
It's pretty good, too. More drama than this one. Drama drama. That's my life.
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