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.