No. 1- Learning to scrub
Mollie was a huge English Mastiff. Literally a gentle giant. She was boarding with us once and she got into a fight with the house cat and lost. That's how gentle she is, yet needless to say this dog is easily 185-200lbs of mostly muscle but she's on the older side and thus is afflicted by growths and arthritis. Her owner brought her in because of two cysts on her back that seemed to be infected. The hair was matted over and we had to clip her up. Mollie was an absolute doll and layed down while we clipped them, picked of the sebaceous cysts and scrubbed her up. A sebaceous adenoma is non-cancerous tumor of an oil-producing gland in the skin. When we clipped them up, it was very clear that they had become infected by both the smell of them and the way they looked. They also were apparently itchy because as we literally scrapped the cyst away with our gloved fingers, Mollie groaned and did the Thumper motion with a back foot, all indicators that they itch. Finally we finished, and though intially my stomach was sickened by literally shaving off what looked like flesh, by the end of the process I was confident that I would be able to do this in real life. The best part was, when the vet noticed me being hesitant to pick them off she looked at me and goes, "C'mon, you're going to have to do this in school."
No.2 Learning from the dying
Gabby was a minature schnauzer whose parents were notoriously in love with her. So notorious that they earned a reputation with the girls in the back, and as I am still the new kid and the only official rooms nurse, I took care of the case. She came in for lumps on her neck and under her chin. I asked the father to show them to me, and to my shock I realized they were where the lymphnodes commonly are felt. Not only that, but they felt nothing like fatty tumors that we commonly get questions about. They reminded me of my own lymphnodes when I had mono a few years back. They were firm. When the doctor came in and palpated she confirmed my suspicions. Lymphoma. Cancer. The owner agreed to allow us to aspirate the lumps and send them to the lab to be confirmed. Sadly, they were and the owners elected not to try any clinical trials or chemotherapy or radiation to help extend Gabby's life. Still, when we aspirated the lumps, it was the best way to learn of all the major, palpalable lymph nodes are on a dog. And yes, I am currently practicing on my own dog.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Reason No. 7: The Miracle of Life
There are few things in the world that I love more than puppies. They honestly make a crappy day turn into something wonderful. That's when when Patrice came in with only one puppy born and more than 8 hours since then, we were all a little worried. Patrice was a red pitbull that should of had more than simply one baby. A radiograph was all we needed to confirm what we thought, she still had more puppies in her. The rest of the day went by in a blur with rooms and medications swirling by at a speed that hasn't happened in quite some time. But after we were closed, we did the surgery, and we had a bunch of us there ready to catch puppies. To rub them dry and to suction the fluid out of them with the very big hope that the puppies still in her were alive and well.
The whole treatment area became dedicated to the puppies. We had heating pads ready, we had surgical tools set out and prepped. We had two nurses, plus techs ready with hair bonnets and masks on ready to help these delayed puppies take their first breaths of air. We watched as the only male that worked in the entire hospital cut Patrice open, released her bladder and then began the task of not only giving birth to these puppies, but spaying the female as well.
When the first incision into the uterus happened, there was nothing but green. It was not a good sign. Green means something is wrong, either sepsis or early seperation of the placenta from the uterine wall. We all waited on baited breath. The first puppies to be born was a puppy suffering from Anasarca, otherwise known as Water Puppy Syndrome or Walrus Puppy, and was given to our most experienced nurse. The three subsequent puppies all were born healthy and we given to us to rigorously dry to stimulate them taking a breath and clear their airways of the fluids they had breathed for the past 9 weeks.
While everyones umbilical had been tied off, and they had been initially examined the doctor oversaw the treatment of the Walrus puppy. This included injections of Lasix to try and stimulate urination to relieve the pressure of all the organs. Sadly, despite the attempts at CPR and multiple injections, the puppy had to be humanely euthanized. The retained water is not only on the outside but also on the inside, affecting all organs. Basically, it takes at least double the energy to preform normal life functions such as breathing and keeping the heart beating than in a normal puppy. For more information try here.
Regardless of our one loss, we also had four squealing puppies. We talked about them like they were own babies and the entire mood of the room lifted as we all cooed over the pups. I cannot explain the feeling I had when I was helping out. Nothing was more important that making sure that we keep these puppies alive. Nothing was more thrilling to hear their little, hungry squeals. It was like everything in the world suddenly didn't matter. I had helped to ensure that these puppies stayed alive. There was simply nothing better in the world than that.
I want to be a vet because new life has a profound affect on my life.
The whole treatment area became dedicated to the puppies. We had heating pads ready, we had surgical tools set out and prepped. We had two nurses, plus techs ready with hair bonnets and masks on ready to help these delayed puppies take their first breaths of air. We watched as the only male that worked in the entire hospital cut Patrice open, released her bladder and then began the task of not only giving birth to these puppies, but spaying the female as well.
When the first incision into the uterus happened, there was nothing but green. It was not a good sign. Green means something is wrong, either sepsis or early seperation of the placenta from the uterine wall. We all waited on baited breath. The first puppies to be born was a puppy suffering from Anasarca, otherwise known as Water Puppy Syndrome or Walrus Puppy, and was given to our most experienced nurse. The three subsequent puppies all were born healthy and we given to us to rigorously dry to stimulate them taking a breath and clear their airways of the fluids they had breathed for the past 9 weeks.
While everyones umbilical had been tied off, and they had been initially examined the doctor oversaw the treatment of the Walrus puppy. This included injections of Lasix to try and stimulate urination to relieve the pressure of all the organs. Sadly, despite the attempts at CPR and multiple injections, the puppy had to be humanely euthanized. The retained water is not only on the outside but also on the inside, affecting all organs. Basically, it takes at least double the energy to preform normal life functions such as breathing and keeping the heart beating than in a normal puppy. For more information try here.
Regardless of our one loss, we also had four squealing puppies. We talked about them like they were own babies and the entire mood of the room lifted as we all cooed over the pups. I cannot explain the feeling I had when I was helping out. Nothing was more important that making sure that we keep these puppies alive. Nothing was more thrilling to hear their little, hungry squeals. It was like everything in the world suddenly didn't matter. I had helped to ensure that these puppies stayed alive. There was simply nothing better in the world than that.
I want to be a vet because new life has a profound affect on my life.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Reason No. 6: I believe in miracles
Every once in awhile, there are cases that no one can seem to help. With every remedy comes additional complications until we are reminded with the stunning reminder that every one of the multitudes of living creatures on this Earth are decidedly mortal. All the medications in the world can't save an animal whose time it is. But sometimes, just sometimes, we're lucky enough to witness an event that renews our hopes that we can beat death yet. Or maybe not really beat death, but to deliver a sense of justice to the force that takes away what should be ours. This is the case with Jessie. She was a relatively young Dachshund that came in as an ADR (Ain't Doing Right). Her owner had noticed a few out of characteristic behaviors that pointed to something not being right. But Jessie was bright eyed and a real friendly girl. There was no fever and subsequent radiographs, and in house bloodwork showed nothing that pointed to any sort of real cause. Thus being the tried and true method of administering some fluids and monitoring her was applied.
The next morning we received a frantic call from her owner that simply stated that she was coming in with Jessie. All of us wondered what could of possibly happened, as most of us agreed that the little dog seemed fine the night before. Jessie came paralyzed in her hind legs and yet her tail was still wagging, and she was trying in vain to get around. The main doctor went in and talked long and hard with the owner. She gave her estimates for back surgery and gave her time to think about it. Coming back in to see the decision, the owner knew that she could not afford to give Jessie the surgery to correct her back injury and tearily explained that she would opt to put Jessie to sleep. At that point the doctor closed the door behind her, protesting that there was no reason to do that just yet. Subsequently it was decided that Jessie would be staying with us over the holidays and would be under the vigilant care of the nurses and kennel staff on a plethora of steriods and medications to try and remedy her situation.
For the first week she was with us, there seemed to be no improvement and in fact there seemed to be more of a degregation in her status. It seems that she could not urinate on her own, a complication to the paralysis. The muscles that allowed her to urinate could not be told to relax and therefore we could not even force the urine out of her on palpation. So she was placed on Prazosin to allow her to urinate. Even still, she was a happy little girl, and never was seen sleeping or hiding from us. She wanted to be held and would paw at the cage when we came over. At our lunch breaks or when things were slow we would hold her while doing menial tasks.
At the beginning of this week, it was announced that the doctors had spoken with Jessie's mother and if there was no improvement she would be humanely euthanized on this coming Monday. All of us protested this, and yet understood that for a dog, being this handicapped was not a good quality of life. We looked into alternative methods, such as the carts that have helped dogs with amputated limbs. But these carts were rather expensive, and since we knew Jessie's mom didn't have the money for a surgery, the chances that she could afford a cart were slim to none. All of us were thinking that it was rather shameful since she was such a little trooper and was still bright-eyed and happy.
On Tuesday she began to kind of walk.
On Wednesday she could walk with some difficulty. And she continues to improve.
I want to be a vet because I believe in miracles.
The next morning we received a frantic call from her owner that simply stated that she was coming in with Jessie. All of us wondered what could of possibly happened, as most of us agreed that the little dog seemed fine the night before. Jessie came paralyzed in her hind legs and yet her tail was still wagging, and she was trying in vain to get around. The main doctor went in and talked long and hard with the owner. She gave her estimates for back surgery and gave her time to think about it. Coming back in to see the decision, the owner knew that she could not afford to give Jessie the surgery to correct her back injury and tearily explained that she would opt to put Jessie to sleep. At that point the doctor closed the door behind her, protesting that there was no reason to do that just yet. Subsequently it was decided that Jessie would be staying with us over the holidays and would be under the vigilant care of the nurses and kennel staff on a plethora of steriods and medications to try and remedy her situation.
For the first week she was with us, there seemed to be no improvement and in fact there seemed to be more of a degregation in her status. It seems that she could not urinate on her own, a complication to the paralysis. The muscles that allowed her to urinate could not be told to relax and therefore we could not even force the urine out of her on palpation. So she was placed on Prazosin to allow her to urinate. Even still, she was a happy little girl, and never was seen sleeping or hiding from us. She wanted to be held and would paw at the cage when we came over. At our lunch breaks or when things were slow we would hold her while doing menial tasks.
At the beginning of this week, it was announced that the doctors had spoken with Jessie's mother and if there was no improvement she would be humanely euthanized on this coming Monday. All of us protested this, and yet understood that for a dog, being this handicapped was not a good quality of life. We looked into alternative methods, such as the carts that have helped dogs with amputated limbs. But these carts were rather expensive, and since we knew Jessie's mom didn't have the money for a surgery, the chances that she could afford a cart were slim to none. All of us were thinking that it was rather shameful since she was such a little trooper and was still bright-eyed and happy.
On Tuesday she began to kind of walk.
On Wednesday she could walk with some difficulty. And she continues to improve.
I want to be a vet because I believe in miracles.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Reason No. 5: Discovering good in the bad
Monday's can be hellish in the right circumstances. There's usually surgeries, as well as only two doctors. So while one doctor is doing surgeries, the other is basically going room to room to room. It stresses everyone out, and usually, everyone is rather irritated by the smallest things. Needless to say, when everyone is stressed out, overworked and under appreciated we can get rather irritated over the slightest things. Usually this is about our clients. Rarely it's about the patients. Anyways, this woman came in, and after a relatively steady afternoon wanted vaccinations for her dogs. We hadn't seen these two sweet dogs in over a year so I calmly explained every shot they were due for, as well as the fact that we couldn't give them a shot without having a doctor examine them.
After a three ring circus, she agrees to the exams and 1 shot per dog. We've all run around like mad people, shaking our heads, giving empathy for having to deal with this woman and in general being annoyed at the whole fiasco. Finally I'm able to grab a doctor, and I go into the room to get the dogs up on the lift. Anyways, we start talking, because its awkward not to talk to the client while waiting for the doctors. Most of them share a little about their dogs or their lives. It's idle chatter but good nonetheless. She asks about school. I explain that I'm done with my undergrad but applying to vet school. She asks the standard questions: How long does it take? Where did I apply? Have I heard anything yet? I give her the answers and she sits back, eyeing me beneath a thin line of fake eyebrow. You're smart to do that. Study while you're young and then you can have whatever you want. The honesty and the sheer confidence in me from a stranger was heartening. I suppose it's because I don't often hear things like that from the people around me. Yes they are supportive, but out-of-the-blue encouraging is rare and far between. Anyways, I suppose the moral of this little story is that even the most frustrating of people in this world have something to offer. Even the most annoying woman can make your day a little bit brighter with just a few words of encouragement.
I want to be a vet because sometimes there is a lot of good in the bad.
After a three ring circus, she agrees to the exams and 1 shot per dog. We've all run around like mad people, shaking our heads, giving empathy for having to deal with this woman and in general being annoyed at the whole fiasco. Finally I'm able to grab a doctor, and I go into the room to get the dogs up on the lift. Anyways, we start talking, because its awkward not to talk to the client while waiting for the doctors. Most of them share a little about their dogs or their lives. It's idle chatter but good nonetheless. She asks about school. I explain that I'm done with my undergrad but applying to vet school. She asks the standard questions: How long does it take? Where did I apply? Have I heard anything yet? I give her the answers and she sits back, eyeing me beneath a thin line of fake eyebrow. You're smart to do that. Study while you're young and then you can have whatever you want. The honesty and the sheer confidence in me from a stranger was heartening. I suppose it's because I don't often hear things like that from the people around me. Yes they are supportive, but out-of-the-blue encouraging is rare and far between. Anyways, I suppose the moral of this little story is that even the most frustrating of people in this world have something to offer. Even the most annoying woman can make your day a little bit brighter with just a few words of encouragement.
I want to be a vet because sometimes there is a lot of good in the bad.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Reason No. 4: Witnessing the good
Euthanasia is unfortunately a very big part of what veterinarian's do. It's something they have to do, and sometimes, encourage people to do. We don't like to see an animal suffering. We don't like them to slowly waste away at home. The death we can give with a shot of euthasol is more peaceful and quicker than anything they would have at home. Nevertheless it's not something that anyone of the people I've ever met get used to. And they might not show it in the room with you, but that doesn't mean that they don't get back, and leave a hand on the animal before we bag it, or listen for a heartbeat multiply times before they're satisfied.
I have helped out on a few 'put to sleeps' while working at my vet clinic. The first one I did, well it nearly broke my heart but I wanted to talk about a different one. The woman came in, knowing that the quality of life was not good and knowing that she did not have the finances to cover the cost in helping out her dog. She had had him for the entirety of his life. He had been there through her marriage and the birth of her children. But he was getting old. He wasn't moving around as well, he was having trouble controlling his bowels, he wasn't hearing or seeing as well as he used to. And so with a heavy heart she brought him to us to put to sleep. She wanted to be there with him, she wanted to reassure him that everything was okay in his final moments. She was trusting us to help deliver her most trusted, and loved friend to heaven.
And I was okay with that, I helped make up a bed for him. I held him while we got the catheter into his leg. I was there to help hold him while the doctor first gave him propofol which gets them sleepy. And then I was there when the doctor gave him euthasol. The woman held her dog's head on her lap, she stroked his head reassuring him that it would be all right, tears running down her face unashamed. It was this raw emotion, this openess that got to me the most. I was a part of the last memory she'll ever have of her dog. And I was honored to be there, to witness this love she had for an animal who could not speak for himself. I was there as she leaned into him, whispering into his ear, "You go take care of my mom for me."
I want to be a veterinarian to witness the good in people.
I have helped out on a few 'put to sleeps' while working at my vet clinic. The first one I did, well it nearly broke my heart but I wanted to talk about a different one. The woman came in, knowing that the quality of life was not good and knowing that she did not have the finances to cover the cost in helping out her dog. She had had him for the entirety of his life. He had been there through her marriage and the birth of her children. But he was getting old. He wasn't moving around as well, he was having trouble controlling his bowels, he wasn't hearing or seeing as well as he used to. And so with a heavy heart she brought him to us to put to sleep. She wanted to be there with him, she wanted to reassure him that everything was okay in his final moments. She was trusting us to help deliver her most trusted, and loved friend to heaven.
And I was okay with that, I helped make up a bed for him. I held him while we got the catheter into his leg. I was there to help hold him while the doctor first gave him propofol which gets them sleepy. And then I was there when the doctor gave him euthasol. The woman held her dog's head on her lap, she stroked his head reassuring him that it would be all right, tears running down her face unashamed. It was this raw emotion, this openess that got to me the most. I was a part of the last memory she'll ever have of her dog. And I was honored to be there, to witness this love she had for an animal who could not speak for himself. I was there as she leaned into him, whispering into his ear, "You go take care of my mom for me."
I want to be a veterinarian to witness the good in people.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Reason No. 3: I think this is cool
Over the course of me working at my vet clinic and my previous job on the farm, I have seen quite a few interesting case studies. Granted, at the time, there were serious problems that needed to be solved to ensure the survival and comfort of the animal in question: but afterwards, when the animal is stable and the crisis has passed, I can't help but to be amazed that I was a part of this. Therefore, for your entertainment and/or disgust, I will give you three case studies.
No. 1-- More Tapeworm than Puppy
We get a lot of animals from pet stores, breeders, and the occasional puppy mill. Usually they have some sort of worm. But on this particular day, there was a room that most of the nurses and techs wanted nothing to do with. So because I am the newest member of the team, I had to take it. And this is not a problem for me. Oddly enough, there is very little that grosses me out. I walk in, and there is this puppy who I could probably fit in two hands easily. Bright eyed but not fancy free, it was clear that this puppy who we'll call Red was not feeling all that great. A conversation with Mom produced two things: a standard fecal sample, and a zip lock back of tapeworms. I take a temperature, a weight, ask a few more questions and quickly take the goodies to the back where it is shown off to the doctors and nurses alike. It was a like a war had just broke out and I got the spoils. Immediately everyone was interested in my case. The doctor took the case, examined Red and prescribed an enema to help Red pass the rest of the worms inevitably in his intestinal tract. As we took the puppy to the back, Kate (one of the younger nurses who also is applying to vet school) immediately helped me give this puppy a soapy enema. What came next was more worms than we thought could possibly be in this poor pup's tract. After spending the afternoon with us, Red seemed to feel more comfortable, and was done expelling most of the worms. Fun fact: the breeder and the breeder's vet determined that this puppy was worm free the week before.
No. 2--Choke by Nevil
At a farm, there is a certain structure, an outline or a framework for the work that needed to be done that particular day. And all of it surrounds feedings. In the morning, it's the first thing we do, and in the afternoon it's the last thing that gets done. During feedings there's certain things you look for depending on the season. In the fall, you look for pasture quality, you make sure the animals weaned are eating well. In the winter, you look for the place with the least wind, and make sure that the automatic waterer's aren't frozen. In the spring, you start looking for babies. And in the early summer you're looking to maintain all of that. It was late spring when this happened. I was working with a girl who has an affinity with sheep that I will never have. But we made a good pair, because I was the girl with the affinity for horses. Anyways, we went into Pasture 2, often used as the paddock for mares and their newborn foals. Most of the foals were on the ground at this point, and the mares were being supplemented with hay cubes to help maintain their body weight and to make sure the foals were getting enough nutrition. Anyways, we feed up, and I notice that one of the foals was having a green discharge from nose and mouth. It was either severe nasal discharge or something else was very very wrong. Immediately I alerted the girl I was working with, and we observed the colt for a moment, instantly becoming worried when Nevil did something I've never seen a horse do: look like he was going to vomit. Now the thing is, horses aren't anatomically built for throwing up. We called our bosses, got a halter and led Nevil and his mother to the barn to wait for the vet. Prognosis? Nevil was choking on something that he ate--most likely a hay cube. The discharge was saliva that he couldn't swallow because when horses choke, whatever they are choking on is lodged in their esophagus, not in the trachea as it is in humans. So before I was told to leave, I was able to help tube Nevil, and start the slow dissolving process of the object. Long story short, after several hours of work, and two vet visits, Nevil recovered fully, able to swallow and subsequently nurse.
No. 3--Abscessed about X-rays
We see several older dogs and unfortunately if we see them, there tends to be something drastically wrong. With Kal, it was something intestinal, as well as something on his paw. Therefore, we took X-rays to see if it was a foreign body, or something else. What we saw on the radiographs was inconclusive but what was important was that the nurses were in charge of cleaning and soaking his paw. There was a sore on it, something that seemed to make him very leery of walking on such a foot. We scrubbed it with chlorohexidine, apparently the choice for it's abilities to clean and not burn. But as we scrubbed, we noticed that it was scabbed over, a sign that Kal had been bothering it for some time now. Kate immediately went to pick it off while I held Kal. I watched as massive amounts of puss, fluid and blood came out of the poor paw. We had released the abscess which in a healthy dog meant that getting back to normal was very soon.
In conclusion, these are the stories that keep me going. These are the stories that let me know that I will never be bored at my job. I will constantly be challenged and stimulated. I also recieved my first e-mail saying that I was selected for an interview at a University outside of the United States. My excitement cannot be diminished.
I want to be a vet because I think this stuff is cool.
No. 1-- More Tapeworm than Puppy
We get a lot of animals from pet stores, breeders, and the occasional puppy mill. Usually they have some sort of worm. But on this particular day, there was a room that most of the nurses and techs wanted nothing to do with. So because I am the newest member of the team, I had to take it. And this is not a problem for me. Oddly enough, there is very little that grosses me out. I walk in, and there is this puppy who I could probably fit in two hands easily. Bright eyed but not fancy free, it was clear that this puppy who we'll call Red was not feeling all that great. A conversation with Mom produced two things: a standard fecal sample, and a zip lock back of tapeworms. I take a temperature, a weight, ask a few more questions and quickly take the goodies to the back where it is shown off to the doctors and nurses alike. It was a like a war had just broke out and I got the spoils. Immediately everyone was interested in my case. The doctor took the case, examined Red and prescribed an enema to help Red pass the rest of the worms inevitably in his intestinal tract. As we took the puppy to the back, Kate (one of the younger nurses who also is applying to vet school) immediately helped me give this puppy a soapy enema. What came next was more worms than we thought could possibly be in this poor pup's tract. After spending the afternoon with us, Red seemed to feel more comfortable, and was done expelling most of the worms. Fun fact: the breeder and the breeder's vet determined that this puppy was worm free the week before.
No. 2--Choke by Nevil
At a farm, there is a certain structure, an outline or a framework for the work that needed to be done that particular day. And all of it surrounds feedings. In the morning, it's the first thing we do, and in the afternoon it's the last thing that gets done. During feedings there's certain things you look for depending on the season. In the fall, you look for pasture quality, you make sure the animals weaned are eating well. In the winter, you look for the place with the least wind, and make sure that the automatic waterer's aren't frozen. In the spring, you start looking for babies. And in the early summer you're looking to maintain all of that. It was late spring when this happened. I was working with a girl who has an affinity with sheep that I will never have. But we made a good pair, because I was the girl with the affinity for horses. Anyways, we went into Pasture 2, often used as the paddock for mares and their newborn foals. Most of the foals were on the ground at this point, and the mares were being supplemented with hay cubes to help maintain their body weight and to make sure the foals were getting enough nutrition. Anyways, we feed up, and I notice that one of the foals was having a green discharge from nose and mouth. It was either severe nasal discharge or something else was very very wrong. Immediately I alerted the girl I was working with, and we observed the colt for a moment, instantly becoming worried when Nevil did something I've never seen a horse do: look like he was going to vomit. Now the thing is, horses aren't anatomically built for throwing up. We called our bosses, got a halter and led Nevil and his mother to the barn to wait for the vet. Prognosis? Nevil was choking on something that he ate--most likely a hay cube. The discharge was saliva that he couldn't swallow because when horses choke, whatever they are choking on is lodged in their esophagus, not in the trachea as it is in humans. So before I was told to leave, I was able to help tube Nevil, and start the slow dissolving process of the object. Long story short, after several hours of work, and two vet visits, Nevil recovered fully, able to swallow and subsequently nurse.
No. 3--Abscessed about X-rays
We see several older dogs and unfortunately if we see them, there tends to be something drastically wrong. With Kal, it was something intestinal, as well as something on his paw. Therefore, we took X-rays to see if it was a foreign body, or something else. What we saw on the radiographs was inconclusive but what was important was that the nurses were in charge of cleaning and soaking his paw. There was a sore on it, something that seemed to make him very leery of walking on such a foot. We scrubbed it with chlorohexidine, apparently the choice for it's abilities to clean and not burn. But as we scrubbed, we noticed that it was scabbed over, a sign that Kal had been bothering it for some time now. Kate immediately went to pick it off while I held Kal. I watched as massive amounts of puss, fluid and blood came out of the poor paw. We had released the abscess which in a healthy dog meant that getting back to normal was very soon.
In conclusion, these are the stories that keep me going. These are the stories that let me know that I will never be bored at my job. I will constantly be challenged and stimulated. I also recieved my first e-mail saying that I was selected for an interview at a University outside of the United States. My excitement cannot be diminished.
I want to be a vet because I think this stuff is cool.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Reason No. 2: Inspiration and Trust
I was going to write more about the fun case studies I've been a part of over the past weeks but instead I think I'm going to focus on something I've read recently. It's in an old magazine that my parents get to change the way their thinking or something. Either way, it's Positive Thinking (May/Jun 2007 pg. 48-51). I want to share an excerpt with you:
"The owner pulled the door open. A full-size horse came flying out, snorting, chest heaving, eyes rolling. His skinny chestnut-brown body was crisscrossed with long scars. He shook his black mane, and chunks of dried mud and manure fell to the ground. He stomped his feet and looked at me. 'That horse will kill you,' the owner muttered. Then those big brown eyes locked on mind and I saw a different story. 'I've had such a terrible life of pain and abuse. I'm scared,' his eyes seemed to say. 'Won't you give me a chance?'...I looked down at the fallen horse and saw what he could become if only someone helped him. 'Get up,' I whispered....He rose and faced me, then lowered his head, waiting for me to make the next move." (p.50-51)
It's stories like this that constantly amaze me. In this crazy, messed up world I'm often one to think that human beings do more harm than good on a regular basis. That we can be compared to a swarm of locusts that demolish a crop at such an alarming rate that there is little to be saved at the end of it. But it is animals like the horse in this story that constantly amaze me. Animals that have been abused all their lives and with patience, a quiet word and a lot of love you can turn the meanest animal around. I've always said that no animal is mean. They're usually scared, angry or very sick. The only creature I've ever encountered that could be outright mean for the hell of it are humans.
I want to be a vet, because I want inspire trust in animals that don't trust.
"The owner pulled the door open. A full-size horse came flying out, snorting, chest heaving, eyes rolling. His skinny chestnut-brown body was crisscrossed with long scars. He shook his black mane, and chunks of dried mud and manure fell to the ground. He stomped his feet and looked at me. 'That horse will kill you,' the owner muttered. Then those big brown eyes locked on mind and I saw a different story. 'I've had such a terrible life of pain and abuse. I'm scared,' his eyes seemed to say. 'Won't you give me a chance?'...I looked down at the fallen horse and saw what he could become if only someone helped him. 'Get up,' I whispered....He rose and faced me, then lowered his head, waiting for me to make the next move." (p.50-51)
It's stories like this that constantly amaze me. In this crazy, messed up world I'm often one to think that human beings do more harm than good on a regular basis. That we can be compared to a swarm of locusts that demolish a crop at such an alarming rate that there is little to be saved at the end of it. But it is animals like the horse in this story that constantly amaze me. Animals that have been abused all their lives and with patience, a quiet word and a lot of love you can turn the meanest animal around. I've always said that no animal is mean. They're usually scared, angry or very sick. The only creature I've ever encountered that could be outright mean for the hell of it are humans.
I want to be a vet, because I want inspire trust in animals that don't trust.
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