A Timely Fashion

I think one of the most common complaints about veterinarians is that (in the client's opinion) we play a little fast and loose with the clock.  I personally believe that there are some veterinarians who couldn't tell time if their lives depended on it, but believe me when I tell you that most of us really do try.  Because, let's be honest here, we do have lives outside our job *shock*gasp* and do like to get home at a reasonable hour. 

I can't speak for the small animal guys (but maybe some of them will chime in), but in large animal land the time we give you is very truly our best intention.  I leave everyday with a plan... some days things move right along and others I might as well have just rolled a dice to decide where to go and when. I can't control emergencies, traffic (but I do believe I should be allowed to have a flashing red light in order to make better time), or appointments that take longer than I expect.  More about this last factor in a bit.

I expect my clients with scheduled appointments (i.e. routine vaccines, health papers, herd work) to be a little flexible.  The rationale is that if they have to wait, it is most likely because I have gone to take care of an emergency.  That lets them know that if they ever have an emergency, I will reschedule non-urgent things in order to get to them as quickly as possible.  The vast majority of people are fine with this, and all they need is a phone call to let them know an updated time frame which I am more than happy to do.  They are great and I adore them for their understanding.

Emergencies are part of life, but too often my scheduling problem is with a scheduled appointment.  I always call when I'm on my way to an appointment in order to let the owner know a pretty specific time (thank you Garmin) for when I will be there.  When I get there, I expect them to 1) have their animals caught and 2) have a basic idea of what they would like me to accomplish while I'm there.  That's all folks. I really don't feel like I'm asking for a lot. 

Today I had two scheduled appointments that were given a 1 HOUR notice that I was on the way.  At the first, there was utter chaos since no one was sure what horses needed to be looked at, why I was there to look at them, or what sort of vaccines and/or blood tests needed to be done.  I was there for 45 minutes before I actually touched a horse, and even then everything took twice as long as it should have since none of the animals were ready.  The second problem place was to castrate a goat.  A "wild as a deer" goat (not an actual breed... yet).  Zero effort was made to catch this animal (in a huge pen) before I arrived.  None. Half an hour to catch the animal for a 15 minute procedure.

To anyone who has ever grumped about their veterinarian not being on time, realize that there are things out of our control and that we are doing the best we can.  And for the love of all that's holy, when we do get there, be prepared.

Wimps Need Not Apply

No one has ever accused me of being one of those delicate flower types of girls; more than once I've been called tough as nails. Both of those are good things because vets need to be tough and not just mentally tough.  I'm talking about the physical stuff.  We are constantly bending, lifting, restraining, and dodging.  The small animal vets are dodging teeth and claws, and the large animal vets are dodging everything else.  Bottom line: I am more than capable of taking a hit and getting back up, but damn.  This week has been ridiculous.

Monday - Kicked in the ribs by a 200 pound calf.

Tuesday - Slammed into a barn by a horse. 

Wednesday - Kicked in the mouth by a 50 pound lamb.

Thursday - Worked through the pain from the first 3 days of the week.  By "worked through" I mean drove nearly 400 miles and saw 11 appointments, all in 12 hours.

Friday - Got my ass handed to me by an alpaca.  It was down, sedated... and then... well to be honest I'm not exactly sure what it did.  But one second I was standing and the next I was flying backwards, landing back first on my metal bucket 4 feet away, and had an alpaca tap dancing on my torso.

Today has been okay so far, but at the rate things are escalating..... *shudder*  I just ask that, for the rest of this weekend, the on-call gods be kind to me as I continue to move gingerly, that Advil continues to relieve pain without putting a hole in my stomach, and that any other sick/angry animals target uninjured body parts.

This job is hard.  Wimps need not apply. 

Bad Moon Rising

I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking, "Did she mean to reference CCR in the title of this post?"  (That's Creedence Clearwater Revival for those who have been living under a rock.)  And yes, yes I did.  If you don't know me well, it might surprise you to find out that I have a pretty eclectic taste in music. My iPod looks like it belongs to someone with multiple personalities.  The last 5 artists that have played are: George Jones, Luciano Pavarotti, Ke$sha, CCR, and Maroon 5.

Anyway, back to CCR. I don't know if you've ever actually listened to all the lyrics of "Bad Moon Rising," but if you haven't, check them out here.

Now, I don't know if John Fogerty realized it at the time, but he was writing the story of on-call veterinarians.  Because there is absolutely no good that can come from being on call during a full moon.  Particularly a full moon that falls on a weekend.  Make it holiday weekend and you've got the trifecta from hell.

I would love to go into details and give you some examples right now from just this weekend so far (and I've got some good ones), but my phone just rang again.  I'm sure it's another disaster.

Pavlovian

Pavlov rang a bell and then fed his dogs.  He did this enough that the ringing of a bell caused the dogs to begin salivating, even if there was no food.  It's what's known as a conditioned response.

My boss went to a conference last week and left me in charge of the practice.  The whole practice.  The constant phone calls, the questions, the scheduling, the emergencies.... the whole nine yards.  It is the second time this has happened in about a 6 week period. 

Last week, every time I attempted to eat, the phone rang.  Tonight at 5pm when for the first time in 176 hours I was completely off the clock and ultimately free, I walked into my kitchen and realized that I wasn't at all hungry, and haven't been actually hungry in days.  I have eaten but.... eh.

Apparently my brain has started associating the presence of food with the ringing of the phone. When the phone rings my heart rate sky-rockets, my stomach clenches, and I swear I can actually feel the rush of adrenaline through my veins. The phone in my life rings so often that the sight, smell, or idea of food fills me with anxiety, so my brain has just decided to not want food anymore.

I heal the sick animals, maintain the healthy, and provide support to their owners, but at the end of the day I'm just one of Pavlov's dogs... in reverse.

Foodie

Many people consider a foodie to be someone who enjoys fine cuisine. You know, the kind of people who don't eat dinner until 9pm, expect the meal to have at least four courses, and want a specific wine to go with each dish.

In the circle I travel in, a foodie means something completely different.  Instead of being someone who enjoys fine dining it is used to refer to a person who would like to practice medicine on animals that make (or are made into) food.

Tonight I decided that there is a third definition for the term foodie.  For me, a foodie has become the teeny, tiny amount of sustenance that I manage to consume at one time.  Because I don't really get to eat "food," I get bits and piece.  Little foodies.

Breakfast (a meal I eat grudgingly because I don't particularly like food early in the day) is consumed as I'm running out the door.  Lunch, which I have to eat while driving between appointments (and so is always something blah like a boring sandwich that won't fall apart as I hold it and eat one handed) is almost invariably interrupted by another call "on the way" so that instead of having 20 minutes to eat, I have like... 4.  And by the time I'm back in the truck my body has given up hope of food and I'm not longer hungry.

Dinner I do get to eat the days I'm not on call.  Unless I get sent on a 5pm call an hour away from home that takes at least an hour to do, resulting in an 8pm quit time.  If I were a foodie in the first sense of the word that would be perfect, but alas, I am not a first type foodie and I'm sure as hell not cooking for one after 8pm.  Days that I am on call are just hit or miss.  I don't try to make an actual meal, just consume enough calories to keep going.  Of course that isn't fool proof either, usually because horse people are freaking nuts.

So it's almost 11pm. Today I managed to consume an English muffin, half of a sandwich, 2 bottles of Gatorade, and 8 strawberries.  I shudder to think what would happen if I didn't have this job and was able to maintain a balanced diet with regular meals.  I would probably weigh a ton.

Farming 101

Let me preface this by saying that I am not a farmer.  I can't tell you how to properly fertilizer your fields or what you should spray to kill thistles.  I couldn't fix a piece of machinery if my life depended on it and I have absolutely no desire to learn.  That being said, I feel as though I know more than a little about animal handling facilities.  Not only because I'm a vet, but because I grew up working with farm animals.  So to start off my Farming 101 course, here are a few definitions.

Hinge: Gates hang on them so that they may swing freely, in one or both directions.  A secondary use is for bruising arms, shoulders, knees, and shins. 

Gate:  Used to separate groups of animals. They can also be used to keep animals in a particular area, or out of an area.  Like your snooty neighbor's yard.  A third use is to allow people and vehicles to easily get in and out of particular areas without climbing over the fence.  Note: If not on hinges, a gate is simply a panel and should be considered immobile.

Fence: Stationary structure to contain animals.  May be present outside as a property boundary or indoors to make small areas (aka pens or stalls). Should be composed of sturdy materials (wood, not plastic) and attached firmly to both the ground and the other sections of fence.  Note: gates resting on the ground and functioning as panels can be placed as if they are fence but will not work successful if challenged by anything stronger than a ground mole.  All fences should, at some physical point, possess a gate (on hinges.)

Barn:  Large structure for containing animals, feed, and/or machinery.  Consists of walls, a roof, door(s) or gates (on hinges), and a floor.  Interior structures include, but are not limited too: sturdy stalls or pens (with gates [on hinges]), overhead lights (with bulbs), and at least one electrical outlet.  Configuration of these components is at the owner's discretion.

Concrete: A nice flooring alternative to M.U.D.  (manure, urine, and a little bit of dirt.) Can be scraped down, hosed out, and generally kept clean.  Not to mention it is solid and thus the animals (and humans) won't sink in to their knees making movement much easier.  This substance should be used both inside the barn and around the outside of the barn (aka the barn yard) where animals will be shuffled back and forth between sections of fence.

Roof: Part of the barn used to keep rain and snow off things (animals, veterinarians, feed materials, ect) inside the barn.  Anytime a hole appears in this structure, it should be properly repaired in a timely manner.

Squeeze chute: Metal structure essential for doing anything to a cow.  These are available for purchase fully functional and are worth the money.  Attempting to create on of these by yourself out of scrape wood will result in incorrect proportions, non-functional gates (aka panels or fence), and the inability to accomplish even the simplest task in a timely manner.

That is our lesson for today ladies and gentleman.  Next time we will cover basic signs of disease and distress, when to call the vet, and why you should not get your medical advise exclusively from the feed truck driver.

The Scorecard

I have worked for 15 straight days.
Of those days, 10 were regular appointment days. 
The other 5 were emergency only days.
I was on-call for 10 of those days.
I was a solo practitioner for 6 of the on-call days while my boss was on vacation.

Our practice radius is ~40 miles.
I have seen 41 appointments.
I have been on 13 emergency calls.
I have delivered 11 lambs, 3 (goat) kids, 12 pigs, and 3 calves.
I have answered 55 other phone calls from people asking/needing/wanting/thinking/whining.

Last night I had to to go to the farm owned by the gentleman featured in my last post.  He looks like Keanu Reeves and curses like a drunken sailor.

Sleep tonight is going to be amazing.