Ultimate Scream

Way back in those long gone by days of vet school, I used to draw screams during class. If you look through my class notes, you can get a quick idea of how bored or aggravated I was at any one time. The classes that didn't lose my attention had few or no screams; the classes that were the ultimate in boredom were littered with screams; and the classes where my classmates were driving me crazy were littered with screams. There are a wide variety of them including just plain ol' circular face screams, various animal screams, hair added, block faces, different shapes, etc. There is also one that went a little further and became the wicked witch getting blown away in the tornado in Oz... How they turned out depended on my mood. Probably my favorite was the cat with fangs bared screaming.

Not too long ago (relatively speaking), Can't Spell sent me a text requesting that I draw a scream for old times' sake. I did and titled it the ultimate scream. At the moment, I feel the need to resurrect the harmless method of stress relief.

Somehow at work, I've inherited the job of making the schedule but the boss's wife is exempt somehow although she says she is not. The problem with her, though, is that she is in the habit of going to visit her mom at least once a week. I've asked repeatedly which day or days or rotation of days she would like for me to plan for her to be out on so that I can rearrange the others to cover. She will not give me a straight answer.

The other problem is that the 3 kids are all wanting to go to tech school. At my clinic, there is a receptionist, a kennel worker, a groomer, and a floater. The floater, or middle position, is the coveted spot because everyone sees it as being more fun and where you get to do more cool stuff. I don't necessarily agree, especially since when the boss's wife is working as receptionist it means that she wants the floater stuck under her rear to answer the phone, etc. (You know, the things that she should be doing...) I try to be a fair person and reward those who deserve it but it is getting pretty hairy. Although I have had a private meeting with all 3 kids, they still don't seem to understand the concept of needing to earn the right to do more. If I can't trust them to walk the dogs and clean the cages how am I going to trust them to count medications appropriately, get the right medication, etc.??? I'm about to the point of relegating all 3 to the kennel but that leaves me with no hands available at all on days that the boss's wife takes off unexpectedly.

I've further decided that I stink as a boss. Not that my boss does much better but I'm just not so sure I ever want to be a practice owner. I'm not very good at remembering to praise people; I expect them to do a good job and I guess I grew up without it so I don't exactly know how to incorporate it. I'm also not very good at criticism and I hate confrontation. And, as always, I really don't know how I got myself into this mess. I mean, 3 kids (not all that fond of kids, never wanted to be a parent), boss's wife, the go-to for everyone, in charge of the controlled substance log and inventory, in charge of the schedule...and this doesn't even count what goes on at home.

Maybe I'll strike oil, become a multi-millionaire and can retire from actual work then open a rescue clinic or go work for Best Friends in Utah...

On a side note, I must admit I found a twinge of jealousy in my heart when I read that the cartoon doctor lady published her work. I'm always torn with mine. I want to but then I get hesitant about whether they are good enough and whether I want to share them with a real public rather than a few close friends. I was working on scanning in some new ones tonight and found it funny that me, an English grammar OCD freak, spotted a couple of mistakes on some of the older cartoons that I haven't caught before; why it was funny is that I'm excessively tired and took some anti-dizzy medicine a little earlier. Maybe it takes my mind in an altered state to function appropriately these days. After all, I was advised by a good friend recently that I needed both drugs and therapy. I'm thinking of starting group sessions at work because I think they need help worse than I do.

Last comment for now is that I think I'm going to put Sam in a doggie wheelchair. It's been a hard decision to make and I still don't know if it will work but I'm at the end of my rope on options. Sam is at least 15, a shepherd / collie mix, around 65 pounds. When he was very young, he had a pelvic fracture and tarsal shearing fracture of his left leg. He developed laryngeal paralysis about 1.5 years ago but it has been very static therefore I have not surgically intervened. His voice is gone, he has mild fecal incontinence, and he has been progressively weakening neurologically. I don't know if it is the peripheral neuropathy associated with laryngeal paralysis, degenerative myelopathy, lumbosacral stenosis, or something else. The big problem is that he is an outdoors only dog by his choice. He hates being confined in any way, shape, or form. I'm just not sure how a wheelchair will work for an outside dog with rough terrain but have spoken to some people that have tried it with good success. With the change in the weather, he had a rough couple of days and got stuck down twice. The longer he lays, the weaker his legs get then he can't rise. After I get him up and massage his legs he's okay for a while. At this point I'm pretty comfortable with my pain control protocol and it seems to be the neurologic issue that is worsening. He's getting measured tomorrow and we'll have the cart in a few days. Guess we'll see how it goes from there. I really hate to be forced into euthanasia because of impaired mobility; he is otherwise a healthy and happy dog.

That's about it for now. I feel as if there was one other thing I meant to say but my little mind is rather muddled at the moment so I'm just not sure. That's why I hate taking medicine; I'll have something to do, say, or write and in the time it takes me to start I'll have forgotten it. Scary!!