Romantic Moment

He laid his head gently against my breast and his dark brown eyes gazed deeply into mine as if peering into my very soul, then he burped and wagged his tail gleefully....

Crap Cases

The last few weeks have been highly stressful for many reasons, most of which I intend to ignore for the moment.  I felt inclined to share about two crap cases that really frustrated me and made me sad and tell a short client story complete with the one-liner on which I bit my tongue but rather wish I had the nerve to have said...

First is Ellie, a nine month old MinPin who came in for bad breath.  Her exam was pretty unremarkable but two things bothered me.  First, while she had more tartar than expected for a nine month old and a single retained baby tooth, the breath seemed too bad; but, the owner had used antibiotics they had at home (grrrrr!!) and reported improvement...  Second, even for a young MinPin, she seemed kinda thin.  We scheduled her for a dental the following week.  Her owners declined blood work but I used my powers of persuasion (okay, so I just ignored them, did it anyway, then asked forgiveness) and got it done.  She was in severe renal failure.  Although we could not get an immediate ultrasound, I felt sure it was a congenital issue given her age and how well she was doing.  We started antibiotics pending a urine culture since there was a mildly elevated white count.  Sadly, Ellie died within the week...

Second is Betty, an aged female English Bulldog who likely came from a puppy mill.  She was a sweet, sweet soul that a local rescue obtained.  Heartworm negative (shocker!) but with a respiratory infection, horribly thin, and huge mammary tumors in all except two glands.  We gave her a few weeks to recuperate and gain strength then tackled the spay / tumor issue.  In her case, I opted to remove all the mammary tissue from both sides in one go primarily because there were palpable nodules running in the connecting blood vessels traveling across midline and because she was thin enough to have extra skin for closure.  Her spay went without a hitch, she had a softball sized lumpy ovary on the right, then her mastectomy also went smoothly.   We kept her hospitalized for observation, initially on IV fluids.  Her owner wanted her to stay through the weekend and I checked her over Friday, looked great.  It was not my weekend but I've been kicking my rear ever since for not going by...apparently, at some point Sunday, she chewed her stitches out causing complete dehiscence with intestine becoming strangulated and contaminated.  Back to surgery she went, this time for a resection and anastomosis.  The surgery went well but apparently Betty's kidneys were on the brink and the second anesthesia pushed her over the edge.

And my last story for now.  There's a guy that has been bringing his two little dogs to our clinic for years.  I remember him, his dogs, and his previous wife from when I was here before vet school.  At some point since then, he has remarried.  His new wife brought the dogs in to have their chronic allergy skin dealt with and commented that she did not understand why he even kept the dogs around (they are 17 and 19, by the way).  How I wish I had said "Well, what I don't understand is why he keeps you around..."

A little too personal...

In what seems to be direct contrast to statements I have made about my own OCD / perfectionist tendencies, I am also a fairly laid-back, easygoing, non-confrontational type.  I've learned to pick my battles and often let things go that maybe I really should not.  That said, I have gotten comfortable doing thorough exams while working with pets that are moving around more than is ideal.  We often do not have a tech or assistant in the room during routine (meaning non-painful / non-stressful for normal, non-aggressive patients) exams.  There are times, however, when I find myself in more, er, personal contact positions than I intend...

Like the other day.  I was auscultating a very small breed puppy who belonged to a very large, amply endowed lady.  I was in my own little world of heart sounds when suddenly I found my hand, holding stethoscope, entrapped between the little dog's body and said well-endowment as the lady, presumably in a fit of lavish love, clutched said dog, hand, and stethoscope into her bosom...

Understanding people...

Can't Spell shared a new favorite quote with me that seems very appropriate:  "Trying to understand some people is like trying to pick up a turd by the clean end!"

That said, I want to relate a couple of recent client interactions that left me with my jaw dropped and completely bumfuzzled.

First, there was the long time client that I've known since well before vet school.  She brought in her 13 year old cat for an upper respiratory infection.  I had seen the cat last year for something an advised her that we should do blood work, including checking thyroid levels because the cat was losing weight with a good appetite and had a gallop rhythm.  She declined at the time but then came in this week complaing that the cat was still losing weight and all my boss ever says is that she is an old cat.  The cat had lost a pound and a half.  I explained hyperthyroid disease again and recommended blood work again.  Guess what?  She declined again...

The other was my diabetic patient with a severely resistant urinary tract infection.  After months and lots of dollars, we finally got it cleared and were nearly re-regulated again.  I asked that they bring him in for a glucose curve, trying to time things so that we could see how near we were to being regulated before stopping antibiotics entirely.  They failed to schedule an appointment or return follow up calls (highly irregular for them!) then randomly called to schedule a recheck about six weeks after I had wanted.  After all that struggle, time, and money, why would you not keep the recommended follow up??

No, I just don't get people.

One of those days...

The other morning my mom said that "It looks like it's gonna be one of those days!" in frustration as things were falling apart (again).  My reply was that I'm not so sure there are any other kinds of days anymore.  It seems to have been months since anything has really gone smoothly and, since the old saying that misery loves company has some truth, it made me feel somewhat better to know I'm not alone.  This article is from one of my favorite funny vets and is a great summary of my day in better words than I am capable of using at the moment...  I'm now running away and hope to remain unavailable for many hours!!

I Finally Figured It Out...

Today, it finally clicked why I'm so weird.  Bear with me, I'll have to explain the situation so it hopefully makes sense...

One of my clinic employees (AP) was talking about a dog she adopted several years ago that was probably hit by a car and definitely had brain damage.  The conversation went something like this:

AP:  She would walk around with a head tilt and veer off to the side randomly.

Me:  I can relate, I do that too.

AP:  And she would lick everything in front of her.

Me:  Well, I don't do that...

AP:  She hated to be held still or cuddled or hugged.

Me:  Yeah, I feel the same way!

AP:  Maybe that's what's wrong with you - a head injury!

Me:  It all makes sense now.  When I was a baby, I screamed and cried when anyone held me - they still complain about it even now.  Probably one of my relatives got frustrated with my screaming and tossed me on my head...

Now we know the rest of the story.

Photographs of Time

I'm not sure that there is anything quite so depressing as looking at old photos.  It always strikes me with force the aging changes I see in those around me.  I see the evidence of time that I fail to see as I look on a daily basis.  Changes that make me even more aware of how fragile and brief life is.

Like most people, I have tons of photos - some printed on paper, some on CDs, some on the computer, and some on my phone.  I suppose they are primarily meant to record the good times, to bring back memories of friends and family and happy days.  Perhaps I am depressive or just too pessimistic in general but I cannot seem to get past the reality that the images represent a happier time that is forever lost.  I cannot go back or make those who have passed return or change decisions or even relive the moment without a sense of loss.

Maybe the problem is that I'm in the midst of a less than happy time right now.  I'm not sure because I know the past was not perfect either.  No time is perfect but I rather long to turn back the pages for a while and enjoy a better time.