MySpace-March 24, 2009-A Blog About Cats

Check out my photos for a super cute picture of my parent's dog, Dixie (who is way too fat!) and Mr.Kitten/Mr.Kitty, the 11 year old barn cat.

Anyway, I love cats. I love cats almost as much as ponies/horses, dairy  cows and Joe.
I can go on and on for hours about how smart my dog is (Riley) or how dumb she is (Mary). Don't get me wrong, I love our dogs and all of the funny, wonderful, smart, stupid things they do, but its Roosevelt that I really love. In fact, I have and will go as far to say that if Roosevelt got cancer, I'd probably treat it. That's right. Me, the hater of animal cancer treatments (other than amputation/cutting it out), would spend money on treating the mutt cat I found on the street before I would on my AKC purebred dog. Its not that I don't love Riley lots and lots, but Roosevelt is a special sort.

And now for some random thoughts about cats. (Really, mostly about Roosevelt.)
I don't know any crazy veterinary things about them. Except for the fact that they are not small dogs. And ferrets are not small cats.
I've been thinking about getting Roosevelt into acting. I don't know how you do that but I'm pretty sure that Roosevelt can sit around looking cute and eat. However, as Joe pointed out, he is fat. Not so much fat as big with that big flabby cat gut thing they get. Why do they get that? Are there veterinarians out there doing kitty tummy tucks? (AKA tabby tummy tucks because alliteration makes everything better) How much do you think they would cost?
Roosevelt has taken to peeing in my bathtub. I think its in protest of a smelly litter box though I did clean it and put baking soda in it. However, I'm pretty sure it still might smell to him. He does poop in it though which I suppose is all that really matters. Is the bathtub one step away from toilet training him?
Roosevelt is facinated by cords to electrical things. He likes to drag them away and is why there is a pair of head phones in the hallway.
I think declawing is cruel. Joe won't let me get another cat unless its declawed so I'll probably adopt one from a shelter that is. Roosevelt doesn't claw up furniture but carpet and walls are another story. (Is it hypocritical that I have nothing against tail docking (which I think is cute!) or ear cropping? Probably.)
If domestic cats were in the wild, would they be solitary like mountain lions or live in groups like lions? Would a group still be called a colony or would it get a better name like pride of lions or paralament of owls. (Matt Ryan taught me that.)
I can't wait for Halloween and making Roosevelt his new costume.
Roosevelt joined me and the dogs outside the other day. He was secured on his harness so basically, he just laid there and when attempting to run off was promptly jerked back to reality. Mary only tried to paralyze him once.
Roosevelt has also taken to hiding in a box in the kitchen. Mary will stand over it and not see him nestled all down inside and then suddenly she gets a paw swipe. I don't think we can ever throw out that box now. I have pictures of him in his box but that's downstairs and I'm not there. Maybe later.

Well, that's all the random thoughts I have about cats/Roosevelt. So now I'm going to go to bed and think about cats and ponies and dairy cows...and maybe Joe. Things haven't been the greatest between us lately which is another reason I love cats so much-unconditionallove.
[EDIT-Originally, posted to Blogger on March 26, 2011.]

MySpace-March 19, 2009-I Hate Pathology

I hate pathology.
Its not that I hate cutting up dead animals. In fact, with the exception of the really, really dead and thus the really really smelly and rotten, I actually like it. I like finding things that I know. I like lesions and finding the cause of death.
However, I hate that I get stuck doing soemthing such as opening up joints and then realize that I hate doing it. SO I go to removing organs. And realize I hate that. SO I go to slicing up the organs and realize that I hate that too. That's all there is. So essentially, I hate all of it.
But my real issue with cutting up the organs is when they are the consistancy of jelly, its hard to cut them up. You need a sharp knife. However, our knives aren't really all that sharp. SO go sharpen them. Well, they haven't really shown us how, just a vague discription of how. And I feel as if I asked how, they would just yell at me. It seems that obviously the answer for us not knowing how to do something is to yell at us for it. I try to sharpen the knife but then I still have to slice a centimeter thick slice of a jelly like organ with a half dull knife for histopathology. WITHOUT crushing the organ down. I really can't do it. It bothers me terribly too.
Add in the fact that I hate feeling like I don't do anything. Sometimes there's upwards of six people working on a single animal. Its okay when its a large animal like a cow and then really only four or so are cutting on the body. But I feel like I don't want to be cut and I feel like I don't want to cut off my friend's arm either so I stand back. It looks like I'm not doing anything. And sometimes I get yelled at for it. (Yelling used loosely.)

[EDIT-Originally published to Blogger on March 19, 2011.]

MySpace-March 17, 2009-Vet School Is Making Me Ugly

I found something out recently. Vet school is making me ugly.
Weight gain and muscle loss aside, I think I've gotten uglier since I started school. I'm always (almost at least) inside. I'm always tired, stressed out and worried about things. Such as tonight when I'm worried about being paged for a pathology 'emergency'. I use emergency loosely because first off, the animal is dead already and secondly, we won't necropsy it until 10am at the earilest anyway.
I've lost my tan. I have bags under my eyes. Even if I get plenty of sleep there are bags under my eyes. I don't smile enough.
When I was on EFAST, I was always tired. But it was different. I was doing things I loved with animals that I loved. It wasn't a chore getting called out in the middle of the night. Even for as tired as I was, the bags disappeared. I love being outside and that does wonders for me. I hope every day of work is like that.
Pathology has been both bad and good. In general, it smells. In general, its gross. But its the closest thing to meat inspection we get. Yesterday, I came close to vomiting and if you know my gag reflex, you know it must of been very bad. The kidney I was trying to pull out was roughly the consistancy of gravy. Today, we necropsied two puppies that didn't from outward appearences have anything wrong. The owner (and after finding nothing, the pathologist) believes that the food was bad. He lost four of his seven dogs hours after feeding them from a new bag. Today was also an ordeal with a horse. When an animal is brought in on a covered trailer, we hook it up on the dock and then the people drive away. The animals falls and then we can lift it up. However, this horse trailer also had a ramp and I wasn't sure it was the best idea to have the guy drive away with the ramp dragging. After being scolded by Dr.Mitchell (I didn't think he was yelling but he apoligized for it so I guess he was.), we hooked the horse up and the guy drove off. But he didn't just pull away, he floored it! Then there was some ordeal about not being able to lift the horse up. Physics got involved and we were told multiple times not to stand where the horse would fall on us. Dr.Mitchell was very helpful with his Forrest Gump voice.
Moral of the story-When asked why you need physics for vet school during your vet school interview, a correct answer would be to assist with the lifting of dead horses into the cooler.
I wonder if the pager is even on? I am afraid of messing with it so I didn't. I think the on light is on. If I can get the time to come up, then its on, right? OH! I know! I can call it and see if it buzzes!

[EDIT-Originally published to Blogger on March 19, 2011.]

MySpace-March 12, 2009-EFAST-March 8th, 2009

I only have Monday and Tuesday left on my EFAST time before I go back to school and pathology. I am ready too. Apparently, three weeks is about as long as I can go before I really start missing Joe. Joe on the other hand missed me somewhere around week one to one and a half. Cornell and its eight weeks is going to pose a problem I think.

I went and saw Erick today. We hung out a lot longer than I intended but it was very fun. I guess I didn’t really know what I wanted from it but I got pretty close.

Last week, was a fairly busy week. I performed an LDA surgery pretty much by myself. The only parts that I didn’t do was sort of confirm that I had done some things right. It took me forever of course but I’m not going to get any better if I don’t do it.

We had a cow come in with a twisted uterus. It required a lot of work to get the calf out once we untwisted the whole thing. I worked really hard on that too.

We radiographed a horse’s head and then I curetted out some of the rotten bone from it. I took a radiograph of my hand. I have a perfect little hand but it is very short and fat. Even though that was the same day as doing the LDA surgery, working on the cow with the twisted uterus AND getting a free lunch  from a drug company rep, radiographing my hand was probably the coolest part.

I pretty much replaced a prolapsed uterus by myself. That was cool. I neutered the family dog and neutered half a cat. It still freaks me out to do surgery. I helped pull a calf as I often do but this calf was backwards and dead (as they often are) however, I did manage to get pooped on pretty seriously by it.

I was offered my choice between three kittens (again). And at various points that day was holding a calf and then later a goat.

I really should take some pictures of the places we go and the things I see but I’m not very good about taking pictures. I’ve carried my camera with me for over a week and think about it after the fact.

I just know that some days, I take things way to easily. I know that in these last two days, I should go out of my way to be enthusiastic and helpful! And proactive about doing things, even if they need to be repeated. I also need to pack my stuff tomorrow night and if it is possible watch their Smoker video. I’m sure that its close to being as good as ours since Smoker hasn’t changed since at least the early ‘90s (lots of drinking and debauchery).

[EDIT-Originally, posted to Blogger on March 12, 2011.]

MySpace-March 12, 2009-I Need A New Profession

I think I need to think a little more seriously about working for the USDA. Or maybe even small animal medicine. (GASP!)
The fact of the matter is, and I am rapidly learning this, is that I’m not very strong. In fact, I’m barely strong at all. There are tons of things that I have found that I am simply physically unable to do. Examples include pull a calf and punch a gigantic needle though a cow’s vulva. I am also unable to hold up the omentum for an omentopexy without my arm getting tired and having to switch off.
Maybe I just need to work out. That might also solve the backache I’ve developed since starting EFAST. I think its directly related to pulling on that calf on the second night here. I’ll keep that in mind and start before I am supposed to join the real world.
But I’ve also been thinking that maybe I’m not cut out for food animal medicine in other ways. Of course, there is nothing that makes me more excited than a good food animal surgery or internal medicine case. Excited more that I was in small animal medicine. EVER.  And of course, I have these general feelings of inadequacy and doubt no matter what I’m dealing with-horse, cow, cat, dog, alpaca, electrical appliance, social situations, the possibilities are really just endless when it comes to me.
I’m too far along in veterinary medicine to just throw in the towel completely but I certainly may have to explore other options if suddenly my physical inadequacy limits me. (I really should just work out instead of changing career paths.)
Physical abilities aside, I get too excited about mistakes and feel too bad about them for too long. If you know me, you know what a worrier I am. I’m not very good at giving sub-Q shots in cattle. In fact, I’m (was) rather horrible at it, but I did about 50 head the other day and didn’t miss a beat (well, I missed about two cows but was able to correct rather than ignore my mistakes). I mixed up some vaccines and missed vaccinating about five cows with one shot and gave them double the other. It didn’t seem to be a big deal and I wasn’t scolded or anything for it but I kicked myself for hours about it. I get upset at myself when I misdiagnosis heat for pregnancy. I shouldn’t get too upset about any of these mistakes. I should get upset enough to find a solution for them and remember the problem but not to kick myself for days. I’m learning and I need to realize that. Mistakes happen. Sometimes they are bad. Sometimes they are not.
Veterinary medicine is hard. Sometimes you just have to do what you can and sometimes it works, other times it doesn’t. I had this little breakdown before leaving for EFAST and Joe was kind enough to listen to me. Kind enough to let me lie my head in his lap-this may have been more theoretical than actual. I don’t really remember but I do know that’s what I really wanted to do.
I need to realize that I don’t know everything and it will take years to get good at veterinary medicine. That’s why it’s a practice. I need to realize that both physically and mentally there are things that I can and cannot do. I need to realize that not everything will be okay sometimes. I need to realize that usually I am doing my best with what I have and that’s all that matters. I need to realize that no one is perfect and not to be so hard on myself.
I really just need to calm down…and work out.

[EDIT-Originally, posted to Blogger on March 12, 2011.]

MySpace-March 9, 2009-A Bunch Of Random Things

I got a C on my equine block. I can only imagine that this was because of my failing surgery test grade. I haven’t seen the evaluations and hope that I can/will but I can’t imagine that they are bad.

You can’t call a pie a banana cream pie if you  put pudding and bananas in it and KoolWhip on top. Its not the same as the one with custard and homemade whipped cream on top.

I’ve learned that not only are reusable IV needles a scary thought but they just don’t work! They get dull and you don’t know it until about the tenth time you’ve stuck an angry cow.

I’ve also learned that there are some things that you defiantly need more than one of especially if you have both haul in and farm call options. I had thought of several good examples but now all I can think of is halters and surgery boxes.

Things I want-a second stethoscope, books on theriogenology (or at least about dystocias), large animal surgery and large animal internal medicine and a kitten or puppy (Corgi, Australian Cattle Dog, or Norwich Terrier)

Things I Hate-really white tennis shoes (especially with jeans), lots of trash laying about in people’s yards (though depending on the circumstances, this can be rather interesting too), people that don’t dress for the things they do, lots of abandoned cars in people’s yards, people that wear too much makeup (if it gets on your clothes, its too much)

Originally, this list was going to be called Things That Are White Trash but I decided that some things don’t fit into that category.

I really like old houses and barns that are abandoned. I always want to explore them but never have. I think I am too afraid that they will collapse on me and no one will know where I am. I just imagine that you could find all sorts of treasures in them. Things left behind by previous owners, left by squatters, etc.

I think having a metal detector would provide a good hobby. I’d really like to have one but I don’t know where I’d go to look for treasures. Its not like I live near a beach or anything. Any suggestions for places that would provide me with some metallic objects that are not just rocks?
My back has been hurting me since I started out down here. Its not excruciating or anything, just sort of a dull ache especially when I sit a certain way. If I had to describe the location, it is in the muscles directly along my spine near where the last rib is. I described it to Joe earlier as where the loin comes from on a pig. I think I must have twisted wrong doing something, such as pulling a calf because that’s why its suddenly killing me tonight.

Is it weird to keep butter just out on your cabinet? Granted, it is just margarine but seriously, if you store it in the fridge and buy it in the refrigerated section of the supermarket, don’t you think it belongs in the cool for a reason? I don’t see the point of putting it in your fridge only to take it out and leave it on the counter later.

Did you know that you can freeze rotting bananas saving them for such things as banana bread later? I just don’t get why you wouldn’t take the hour it takes to make banana bread right when you noticed that the bananas were going south anyway. I mean how long does it take to freeze then thaw bananas? Longer than to make the bread to begin with.

If you knew you were planning on getting a new dog, knew for like a week and it was a puppy (or at least a young dog), wouldn’t you want to get it all new stuff (such as bowls, toys and even more so collars and leashes) rather than using the stuff from your old dog that died? I know I would.
I think I would really get into the High School Musical movies except for all the singing. I really thought I would like Rent but there was too much singing.

I really could use a perfect day. My perfect day right now would consist of a day where I didn’t have to do anything with it raining pretty hard, maybe some thunder and lightning. Me in my bed all cozy and warm with some dim lighting, Riley and Roosevelt curled up on the bed and Mary on the floor. I’d have lots of good books and magazines. I’d have plenty of food just magically appear. I could read and sleep and listen to good music as much as I wanted. Maybe Joe could join me too and we could cuddle and talk. That would be nice. I doubt it ever happens. Even if everything could align perfectly, Mary wouldn’t be content on the floor.

I think I say too much sometimes. I tell things/stories I shouldn’t, especially about Joe. My stories always go one sentence too long. I insist on telling a story that only vaguely relates to the item at hand. I insert comments when they are not needed. I don’t like that about myself. Though, I’m not too sure how much of this other people notice or care about.

[EDIT-Originally, posted to Blogger on March 12, 2011.]

MySpace-March 1, 2009-EFAST-Sunday, February 22

Well, I’ve been down in Aurora since Wednesday. I’ve seen so much and I’m getting the hang of the veterinary medicine aspect of this whole thing. Not so much of the family life. Its just hard to know where I fit in. What do I do? What do I say? Am I allowed to eat leftovers? Or are those just for the family? I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch today because I didn’t know. And because I didn’t get up in time for pancakes and then felt too dumb to be like, well, I’m going to McDonald’s for pancakes.
Anyway, Wednesday I worked for like 12 hours. I saw two RDA surgeries. I’m pretty sure that the young guy that hauled the cows in was flirting with me. I still am not sure what flirting entails, but I think it involves being overly nice and asking lots of questions about the other person and then laughing where appropriate. There was a lot of other things that weren’t so nearly so interesting that happened too. Martha said that I looked older. I don’t really know what that means (wait, maybe it had to do with my birthday?) but you know, I feel prettier. That’s dumb I know but I do. And I feel fat too so it evens it all out. That morning on the drive down, I saw the Playboy bus just outside of the Lake of The Ozarks. It was like 5:30am. I can understand it being there in the summer but why winter? It was shortly there after that I remembered that my winter coat was still hanging from the closet door in Columbia. In my defense, it was 53 degrees when I left home. Luckily, I got it in the mail just the other day.
Thursday, Dr. Mike wasn’t around so I hung out at the clinic. I closed the sub-q layer on a dog spay. I saw a dog with a neurogenic licking thing. That night we got called out on a farm call for a dystocia. The heifer was this little thing and happy as could be. (As compared to the one the day before that kept charging the fence but luckily didn’t need our help with the baby.) It was owned by an Amish guy and the parlor was pretty dark. The calf was backwards (bad) and took us forever to get the first leg out and even longer for the second (really, really bad). We pulled and pulled with no avail. We decided to cut off the hind leg and part of the pelvis but couldn’t get the gigly wire in the right place (horrible). We would do a C-section but didn’t have the surgery pack on the truck (devastating) and had to go back to the clinic for it. We started the C-section and the cow was bloated from being down so long. You could hear the air reverberating when I clipped her hair.  Dr. Mike reached in and pulled out a front leg from the abdominal cavity (the nail in this poor cow’s coffin). We sedated her and she began to regurgitate rumen fluid, out her nose, out her mouth, pretty much everywhere (the worse synonym for bad you can think of) and then we euthanized her. As the Amish man and his wife dragged the poor cut up dead cow out of the barn with a skid loader (I don’t pretend to understand how that whole Amish thing works.). I noticed in the other room, a tray containing coffee, coffee mugs and a plate of what appeared to be some sort of buns/rolls/doughnuts brought out for us because of all of our hard work. (We had put in at least three hours at this point.) But alas, these would not be consumed because after killing their cow, we packed up and left. But I mention this to prove that as a veterinarian, you have the potential to be fed well. In fact, I think we were offered a sandwich tonight.
Friday,  we preg checked a bunch of cows and one at that farm had an LDA that we would later come back and fix. When we did come back, I was allowed (or allowed an attempt) in doing several things for this cow. I think the best part was when I was trying to guide a tube with a large needle back over to the abomasums to deflate it. This was the best part because in addition to having Dr. Mike coach me, the farmer was standing at me right shoulder giving me turn by turn directions of the cow’s abdomen. He was the MapQuest of the cow’s abdomen, turn right at the kidney, etc. Eventually, the cow won out and I was unable to finish the job. I did sew up her skin and got the farmer’s seal of approval. Dr. Mike said that I had won them over very quickly but I had said the right thing by wanting to be a dairy vet. I can’t help it if its true.
Saturday, I saw an alpaca that was sick. And all of his adorable herd mates. Tonight, I was called out for another dystocia. This one much more simple. The Bloss’ invited Erick Lutzeier over for dinner and then he hung out for a while playing pool. It was good for everyone involved to meet another vet   in the area. I didn’t have much to say. As excited as I was to see Erick, I guess I didn’t know what I planned on talking about with him. It also sort of was like having your boyfriend over to meet your parents for the first time. Erick later sent me a text message asking me if I was okay because I seemed sad and uncomfortable. I told him that I was still uncomfortable but getting better. I also spent much of yesterday and today doing nothing and being slightly regretful for it.

[Originally, posted to Blogger on March 5, 2011.]

MySpace-March 1, 2009-Songs For A Mixed Tape

A few weeks ago, a song was playing when my alarm went off. Instead of instantly hitting the snooze button as is my normal routine, I listened to it for a minute because it was a song that I had at one time considered putting on a mixed tape (well, burned CD) for a love interest of mine like something out of the ‘80s. And when I did manage to hit the snooze button, instead of falling back to sleep I started thinking about my relationships and relationship history.

When I was five years old, I kissed a boy on the swings at the horse show grounds. His name was Joe Bridges.

In grade school, I think I had one of the most mature relationships that I ever had. I can only look back on it and remember what I can. I think now what may have made it so mature was that there was no physical aspect to our relationship. There was some random kisses but no making out, none of the stuff that kids today are doing in grade school.

In high school, up until my senior year there were the occasional boyfriend. I had one that drove an old white Ford and played tennis. One that I worked with at McDonald’s (that may have been the beginning of my senior year). One thing that these guys had in common was that they literally made me sick to my stomach to be around. I started to hate them and started to treat them terribly because I had no other method of getting rid of them. (I since have not refined this method but seen not to have to at this point.)

Then at the end of my senior year of high school, the phenomenon that I call the ‘drought or pour cycle’ began. In the month of May, I was seeing several different guys. One guy puked on the tilt-a-whirl. One ended up to be gay but that was okay because I really cared for him and he was still technically confused at that time. I didn’t get physically ill when I was around them.  I was asked to DeSoto’s prom by several different guys but lacked a date for my own prom. My dad came up the solution for the date problem. Anyway, by the middle of the summer, I was safely dating Jeremiah, a former wrestler from DeSoto that was in the army. We dated for over two years but I think I saw him less than three months total in all of that time. I wasn’t happy in that relationship and wanted to break up with him on several occasions but was never able to. I would talk to him on the phone (with him in Germany) and have a great conversation and just couldn’t do it. He finally came home for good and within two months, I had broken up with him. We had changed in different ways and I just knew that this relationship wasn’t going to go anywhere that I wanted it too. I think I told someone that I wished he had beat me because then I would at least have a reason to break up with him.

Of course, there were several guys that I could have dated while he was gone. Being the honorable girl that I am I never did. There was a guy that lived with us in the dorms that was obsessed with me. I wasn’t interested in him afterall, I had that boyfriend as a good excuse. After the breakup with army guy,  I entered the drought phase for a long while. Somewhere along the way, I knew that what I wanted was a boyfriend that was a friend first. Someone that understood who I was and wouldn’t be put off by my awkwardness. I spent a lot of the time that summer talking to one of my friends as we talked about another group of our friends. I began to start to have feelings for him but whenever I thought it might be time to ask him out I couldn’t. It wasn’t a sexual attraction to him. I just knew him and trusted him. That’s where the songs for the mixed tape come in. There are lots of songs out there told from the point of view of the guy friend that is constantly left out by the girl because of her boyfriend that doesn’t appreciate her as much as the guy friend knows he could. I wanted to express that to my friend. I always felt that way, even once he had another girlfriend and I had Joe. Joe knew all of this and I finally told my friend how I felt. It was like the door that had been blowing open and shut in the wind finally had been shut and locked not to be opened again.

At the end, thus the beginning of the pour phase, there was some interest from a St. Joseph group member.  [EDIT] friend from DeSoto. He professed that he had loved me in high school even though we each had our own relationships at the time. He made it sound like he still did. I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t and hadn’t (at least to my knowledge) shared those feelings then or currently. [EDIT] (Okay, its still awkward a lot for me but that’s just because I’m an awkward person.)

I went to Florida. I danced once at a cowboy club. I meet a guy and told myself that it wasn’t anything serious, that I wouldn’t care about how it ended or how it went. I was wrong. [EDIT] but I got all tangled up with all of the other things that make a girl dumb. I got back [EDIT] DeSoto guy again but it wasn’t the same.

I was deep in the drought phase and was about to give up. In fact I had gotten to the point in which I enrolled into the Yahoo Personals. I was very  blunt with people that responded and while one guy was willing to deal with my then liberal views, I felt nothing for him. Nothing except being very safe with him, safe enough to tell him pretty much everything. I was also ready to start making the bar scene when I met Joe.  Sure, our beginning wasn’t what is written in the storybooks. We met drunkenly at a Halloween party. I was dressed up like Paris Hilton. We drunkenly made out. We’ve been dating for over three years now. Three years that have seen lots of changes and problems and great times. There have been times when I had the opportunity of other interests from other male parties but never pursued them because 1) I am honorable as mentioned above and 2) I do love Joe.

Joe said last night that he’s been getting a lot of pressure to get me an engagement ring. (All the pressure I assume is directly from me unless there is someone else busily harassing him, which honestly would be nice.) I think we are at that point. What more can be gained from keeping our relationship as just dating? I see all of my classmates getting married and engaged and wonder when it will happen for me? I don’t know how much would change with Joe and I being engaged or even married. There might be some benefits to taxes and stuff and we’ll get a new bed. That’s a huge bonus in of itself. I want to be Joe’s wife and I want to have babies for him. I just don’t know how much longer I can stay in this pattern of our relationship. Its time for our relationship to move forward.

[Originally, posted to Blogger on March 5, 2011.]

MySpace-March 1, 2009-Food Animal Medicine, Amish Country Trip

Just FYI-This post cost me $2.95 because WiFi at McDonald's ain't free! That's not even counting the food I ate first!
I had a great time on food animal medicine. I don’t feel like I really did all that much though. I sort of just followed production medicine around and went home early when I didn’t feel like doing anything else.
I did learn a lot. I did learn how to manage myself as a woman in the field from Dr.Marshall. I did pee in a field, well barn. Well, at least it was outdoors! And I can hit a jugular vein nearly every time I try. I also really like to do the laundry at the clinic. There was something soothing about the organization of it. And I really like organization.
Other than working the 300 heifers at the grazing dairy for the New Zealanders, I think the trip into Amish country was the most fun. (Not that the trips out to Foremost weren’t fun. I swear I wasn’t the one that cut the vessel when lancing the abscess!)
First of all, everyone was super nice except for the horses that were snobs. We drove into one place and the horses were just out in the barnyard. They approached the truck and I was excited to get to pet them. Dr. Marshall warned me not to get kicked and I promised that I wouldn’t . I attempted to pet them and they just walked off away from me. There were however a team of Belgians that were hitched and tied so they couldn’t run off. We petted them instead.
I saw a Holstein bull. They’re big and sort of scary! And a dead lamb at the same place which was slightly more sad than the dead kitten at the place where we dehorned calves and I caught that one on fire. Everyplace had Australian cattle dogs and I had to pet them. There were shy and cute Amish kids. The cows weren’t as friendly or as calm as I imagined them to be. I would have thought getting milked every day by hand would make a cow super calm, but you’d be wrong. I drained two abscesses from a cow’s jaw and we saw part of a pelvis get sawed off. We didn’t know that you could do that and apparently my comments on my clinical competencies worried my professor.  It was cool, again we just didn’t know you could do that!

[EDIT-Originally, posted to Blogger on March 12, 2011.]