My routine here is anything but routine. Today I started another survey with Lake Team only to leave early for assistance with a veterinary procedure. Today's patient was a Przewalski's horse, an endangered wild horse whose name sounds nothing like the way it is spelled. We will call him 'P Horse' for the sake of brevity.
When tranquilizing a wild horse who is not happy to see you, you do not skimp on the chemical restraint. The name of the drug used today escapes me but the caution used was not lost. "I'm wearing gloves and goggles because if any of this gets into my system, it will kill me." Katie went on to explain that this drug is like morphine times one thousand. When she went to deliver the dose to the restrained horse, I took a step back and held my breath. One can never be too careful when death is on the line.
The P Horse took it all like a champ. When released from his physical restraint, he walked into the padded room and quietly went to sleep. Once the slumber was confirmed, all hands were on deck to move the great beast into the hospital room where today's exam would take place.
This P Horse had decided to tango with a wire fence a few weeks back. His dance landed him in the hospital due to lacerations and swelling on his lower right leg, When the cast was removed, I got a good look his injuries. I'm not going to paint a vivid picture of what I saw, but trust me when I say this guy regretted kicking that fence.
Lowlight: When taking the heart rate of the P horse, I came up with a ludicrous number for a horse. After it came out of my mouth, I knew the number was way off but I didn't realize what I had done wrong. I made the rookie mistake of double counting the heartbeat. In a large animal hospital setting, I am very much a rookie.
After the treatment wrapped up, it was time to wake up sleepy P horse. This is always the exciting part of any procedure here. It is a delicate balance between delivering the reversal for anethesia and escaping before the animal has a chance to hurt anyone. During the sterilization and recasting of P Horse's leg, he was resting on a large foam pad with a vinyl cover similar to a large couch cushion.
When it was time to wake up, one of the animal care workers was overzealous in grabbing the pad from under the horse. The quick snatch coupled with the weight of the rolling P Horse resulted in the cover ripping and only to foam pad being removed. The vinyl cover ended up draped over the back of a now aggravated and confused P horse. Watching through a peep hole in the recovery room door, I had a front row seat to the unfolding drama.
A brave zookeeper stepped into the "danger zone" behind the horse. A kick from this well muscled stallion would easily shatter bone. The rest of his team stood outside the door with bated breath. He snatched the blue vinyl cover from the P Horses back as the horse turned to take a look at what was going on. While shouting "I'm OK", the zoo keeper made an exit that would have made Snagglepuss proud.
When the zookeeper walked past the windows of the vet hospital surrounded by his smiling pack of peers, we had a moment. My thumbs up said, "Good Job!". His confident nod said, "I know, just another day at the office".
Highlight: I managed to stick around for everyone's favorite endangered neonate's afternoon treatment. Caring for Amy Ray is where I prove my worth. I am happy to do whatever is needed to aid in her recovery.
When approached with a rake by the Head Vet, I replied that I am not above mucking stalls for her. To be truthful, I would do just about anything to come back to the Wilds on a Vet Externship during my fourth year of school. Perhaps even as a Resident Veterinarian in a quest for a Conservation Medicine specialization.
Each day, Amy Ray's treatment schedule gets a little bit shorter. The goal now is to support her until she is eatting on her own. I was tasked with observations after treatment was completed to see if she would eat from the feed buckets when her mother returned to the stall.
Amy Ray does not quite have the hang of this solid food thing yet. She follows her mother in a funny game of 'monkey see, monkey do'. Mom takes a step, Baby takes a step. Mom lowers her head, Baby lowers her head. Mom eats from the food buckets, Baby chews on Mom's ears. So close...
Showing posts with label camel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label camel. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Day 17: "In West Virginia, It's a goral"
Today my time was split between the two worlds I live in here, field research and vet hospital. Lake team's morning was spent surveying my favorite lake yet. It is known as "Waterfall" by the staff here although I saw nothing which resembled Niagra Falls. .
Hiking into the survey site was one of the best hikes yet. It was pretty much a well defined path the entire trip. The trail began in a coniferous forest and ended in a deciduous forest. There was no sign of the lake until we crested the hill to find ourselves right on it's shoreline.
My survey time this morning was quite brief. I spent roughly a half hour on the water until my watch read 9:45. I waded back to the shore and picked up the radio to call the head veterinarian. After saying her call number, I was ready to ask the question I had been looking forward to since I woke.
Lowlight: Me: "Is the gORAL knockdown still a go for this morning?"
Head Vet: "Yes Ron, The Go-RAL procedure is still scheduled for Ten o'clock."
Apparently when I radioed her to check, she was in a meeting with all of the big shots at The Wilds. They had a good laugh at my mispronunciation of the name of the Chinese Goral. Thankfully, I don't mind embarrassing myself. It's worked out pretty well for me thus far.
The Goral was being brought in due to lameness on his right front leg. X-Rays revealed that the poor guy had an entirely fused carpal joint. On the bright side, it was on his front leg. Gorals rely heavily on their back legs for their trademark jumping and climbing abilities.
Highlight: During the Goral procedure, I trimmed my first hoof. It went better than I expected. When the Goral woke up from anesthesia, he had a full mani-pedi courtesy of the Hoofstock Salon.
After the exam, I noticed that it was very close to Amy Ray's afternoon treatment so with permission I stuck around. Sometime over the weekend, she decided that she is now a rodeo bull instead of a baby camel. She kicked, twisted and bucked around the barn stall like the star of a PBR Rodeo before calming down to allow us to check her bandages.
Between treatments, she would circle around us and repeat her bull impression. It was simply adorable. So much so that our normally serious vet whipped out her iPhone to get some video of Amy Ray bounding around like a big scary camel.
Her white blood cell count still indicates that she is fighting an infection. You would never know it by looking at her. She continues to dabble in solid food. Her mentation is bright and responsive. Before the end of her afternoon treatment, Amy Ray had walked around to greet everyone in the room.
Part of the rules I abide by here state that I am not permitted to post any images of collection animals taken in "non-visitor areas". I can't hardly wait until she is released back into her home pasture. I promise that you will get to see every snapshot when that day arrives.
Hiking into the survey site was one of the best hikes yet. It was pretty much a well defined path the entire trip. The trail began in a coniferous forest and ended in a deciduous forest. There was no sign of the lake until we crested the hill to find ourselves right on it's shoreline.
My survey time this morning was quite brief. I spent roughly a half hour on the water until my watch read 9:45. I waded back to the shore and picked up the radio to call the head veterinarian. After saying her call number, I was ready to ask the question I had been looking forward to since I woke.
Lowlight: Me: "Is the gORAL knockdown still a go for this morning?"
Head Vet: "Yes Ron, The Go-RAL procedure is still scheduled for Ten o'clock."
Apparently when I radioed her to check, she was in a meeting with all of the big shots at The Wilds. They had a good laugh at my mispronunciation of the name of the Chinese Goral. Thankfully, I don't mind embarrassing myself. It's worked out pretty well for me thus far.
The Goral was being brought in due to lameness on his right front leg. X-Rays revealed that the poor guy had an entirely fused carpal joint. On the bright side, it was on his front leg. Gorals rely heavily on their back legs for their trademark jumping and climbing abilities.
Highlight: During the Goral procedure, I trimmed my first hoof. It went better than I expected. When the Goral woke up from anesthesia, he had a full mani-pedi courtesy of the Hoofstock Salon.
After the exam, I noticed that it was very close to Amy Ray's afternoon treatment so with permission I stuck around. Sometime over the weekend, she decided that she is now a rodeo bull instead of a baby camel. She kicked, twisted and bucked around the barn stall like the star of a PBR Rodeo before calming down to allow us to check her bandages.
Between treatments, she would circle around us and repeat her bull impression. It was simply adorable. So much so that our normally serious vet whipped out her iPhone to get some video of Amy Ray bounding around like a big scary camel.
Her white blood cell count still indicates that she is fighting an infection. You would never know it by looking at her. She continues to dabble in solid food. Her mentation is bright and responsive. Before the end of her afternoon treatment, Amy Ray had walked around to greet everyone in the room.
Part of the rules I abide by here state that I am not permitted to post any images of collection animals taken in "non-visitor areas". I can't hardly wait until she is released back into her home pasture. I promise that you will get to see every snapshot when that day arrives.
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Day 15: Quick One
Heavy rains bouncing off my window before sunrise woke me well before my alarm. The rain ceased by the time I was ready to walk out the door. Ohio is starting to remind me of Florida. It rains for an hour or two but the sunshine returns promptly.
On this day, the rains had been enough turn the drainage ditch into a swiftly flowing stream of flood waters. The lake survey we were set to complete this morning someplace on the other side. Lake Team searched for an easy route to cross but none was to be found. If we were to reach our destination, we needed to get creative. With help from the forest team that was surveying a site nearby, we found a way across. We would need to use a small tree growing next to the drainage to pole vault our team across.
Some were better vaulters than others, but we all managed to make it across without much water in our boots. Next we were faced with a choice. Either fight through heavy cover and cattails or climb a steep forrested hillside. The hillside appeared to be the path of least resistance.
Somewhere nearby, we heard a crackle of breaking branches. I lifted my eyes just in time to see a large tree fall no more than fifty yards ahead of us. We all agreed that it was unsafe to attempt to survey after Rena retold the story of a girl being smashed under a falling tree at her summer camp.
With no afternoon survey, I went to the vet hospital to assist with Amy Ray's feeding. She is growing more feisty by the day. When I first met her, she would squirm a bit when we cleaned her wounds. Today she was bawling her malcontent as the disinfectant destroyed any bacteria in it's path.
She has begun to munch of the small green alfalfa stalks in her stall. When I mentioned it to the zoo keeper, she said that she would be sure to find more for her. While I look forward to seeing her rereleased back into the pasture with the rest of her family, I know I will miss caring for her whenever I am able.
Highlight: My blood smear technique is steadily improving. Soon I will be able to make passible work. The last preps that I did were only slightly heavy handed.
Lowlight: I was unable to focus the fancy lab microscope at the vet hospital under fourty power when trying to ID the cells in my blood smears. I asked another vet student for assistance and she was not able to obtain a clear image either.
At this point, I had become frustrated with the blood smear and decided to look at a fecal slide that I had also prepared. The head veterinarian heard that I as having trouble with the scope and came over to assist me. She wiped the lens carefully, deftly twisted the microscope controls and asked me to take a look. The image I saw was perfect.
It was not until I switched back to the blood smear that I realized my error. Since I was only doing practice smears, I had not labeled the slide with an ID number. I had been looking at the slides from the wrong side. I quitely flipped the slide over and resumed my work.
On this day, the rains had been enough turn the drainage ditch into a swiftly flowing stream of flood waters. The lake survey we were set to complete this morning someplace on the other side. Lake Team searched for an easy route to cross but none was to be found. If we were to reach our destination, we needed to get creative. With help from the forest team that was surveying a site nearby, we found a way across. We would need to use a small tree growing next to the drainage to pole vault our team across.
Some were better vaulters than others, but we all managed to make it across without much water in our boots. Next we were faced with a choice. Either fight through heavy cover and cattails or climb a steep forrested hillside. The hillside appeared to be the path of least resistance.
Somewhere nearby, we heard a crackle of breaking branches. I lifted my eyes just in time to see a large tree fall no more than fifty yards ahead of us. We all agreed that it was unsafe to attempt to survey after Rena retold the story of a girl being smashed under a falling tree at her summer camp.
With no afternoon survey, I went to the vet hospital to assist with Amy Ray's feeding. She is growing more feisty by the day. When I first met her, she would squirm a bit when we cleaned her wounds. Today she was bawling her malcontent as the disinfectant destroyed any bacteria in it's path.
She has begun to munch of the small green alfalfa stalks in her stall. When I mentioned it to the zoo keeper, she said that she would be sure to find more for her. While I look forward to seeing her rereleased back into the pasture with the rest of her family, I know I will miss caring for her whenever I am able.
Highlight: My blood smear technique is steadily improving. Soon I will be able to make passible work. The last preps that I did were only slightly heavy handed.
Lowlight: I was unable to focus the fancy lab microscope at the vet hospital under fourty power when trying to ID the cells in my blood smears. I asked another vet student for assistance and she was not able to obtain a clear image either.
At this point, I had become frustrated with the blood smear and decided to look at a fecal slide that I had also prepared. The head veterinarian heard that I as having trouble with the scope and came over to assist me. She wiped the lens carefully, deftly twisted the microscope controls and asked me to take a look. The image I saw was perfect.
It was not until I switched back to the blood smear that I realized my error. Since I was only doing practice smears, I had not labeled the slide with an ID number. I had been looking at the slides from the wrong side. I quitely flipped the slide over and resumed my work.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Day 14: First
Gentle ripples spread out from camouflage boots
Grey skies mirrored in the pond surface below
Determined intent spreads tightly across my face
A careful parting of the cattails uncovers my quarry
Another step would reveal my position
I pounce
My hands leading the way
I rise
Bullfrog firmly grasped between my fingers
I yell
FINALLY!
I feel
If only for a single moment in time, I am the King of the Frog Catchers
This was the begining of a day filled with firsts. Amy Ray was the sunshine during a rainy day here at The Wilds. She is continuing her path to a full recovery. She had so many firsts today I think it is best to put them in a list.
Lowlight: Amy Ray is being bottle fed from glass soda bottles. Her favorite is a Pepsi-cola bottle that has a label which leads me to believe that it is antique. While stacking the freshly washed pans after the evening feeding, one slipped and knocked the Pepsi bottle from the counter. It broke into a million little pieces. I swept up not only all the glass, but the entire clinic floor. We shall never speak of said bottle again...
Grey skies mirrored in the pond surface below
Determined intent spreads tightly across my face
A careful parting of the cattails uncovers my quarry
Another step would reveal my position
I pounce
My hands leading the way
I rise
Bullfrog firmly grasped between my fingers
I yell
FINALLY!
I feel
If only for a single moment in time, I am the King of the Frog Catchers
This was the begining of a day filled with firsts. Amy Ray was the sunshine during a rainy day here at The Wilds. She is continuing her path to a full recovery. She had so many firsts today I think it is best to put them in a list.
- Discovered the water fountain in the corner of the room. She was scratching her face on the outer rim of the bowl and accidentally dipped her tiny nose underwater. Shocked, she withdrew immediately and shook her head.
- Stood up on her own. I know it was happening when I was not around because I would return to find her standing with her Mom. I was suprised by the relative gracefulness.
- When she was seperated from her mother, Amy Ray called back in response to her mother's bellowing.
- During the antiseptic cleaning of her elbow wound, she turned and tried to bite the resident vet. She does not have all her teeth yet, so it would have been more adorable than painful.
- Burped softly after finishing her bottle. I could not stiffle my laughter.
Lowlight: Amy Ray is being bottle fed from glass soda bottles. Her favorite is a Pepsi-cola bottle that has a label which leads me to believe that it is antique. While stacking the freshly washed pans after the evening feeding, one slipped and knocked the Pepsi bottle from the counter. It broke into a million little pieces. I swept up not only all the glass, but the entire clinic floor. We shall never speak of said bottle again...
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Day 13: Bye Bye Bolt
"It's 7:50am". The voice belong to my cabin mate and fellow lake
teamer, Brian, who was concerned that I would miss my 8:00 meeting. I woke with
a startle, literally jumped down from my bunk and put my shoes on as I ran out
the door. Today was Bolt's last day at The Wilds.
Bolt is a three year old male cheetah that will be shipping out to San Diego Wildlife Park.
Before any animal leaves for another zoo, the veterinary team must perform a pre-ship examination. This exam is a comprehensive check-up, physical and vaccination procedure.
After a quick shot of ketamine, Bolt slowed down considerably. In order to ensure that Bolt was completely out, our vet was now poking his paw with a finger. Next she tickled his ear with the end of the three foot pole. The world's fastest land animal was now fast asleep inside his transportation crate.
At Ohio State, vet students never touch a live animal until the second half of their third year. When the head vet asked if I had ever done a physical exam, I was SO thankful for my physical diagnosis class which Auburn CVM students take in the second term of the first year. I was seconds away from getting to PET A CHEETAH!
As I waited for the thermometer to give me the temperature reading, I quietly sang "Soft Kitty" to Bolt. It seemed fitting because his fur was just as soft as I had hoped. From that point on, everything started to move a triple speed. I ran my fingers through just about every spot on his lean body. Teeth cleaning, heart rate, anesthesia, four different x-rays, tick removal, vaccinations as well as every possible palpation and auscultation within the span of about an hour.
Fact: Camels have oval shaped Red Blood Cells. During extended dry periods, camels can concentrate their blood to sludge like consistency. The oval shaped cells allow the blood to carry oxygen through the smallest of capillaries under these extreme conditions. Their urine is also concentrated to a similar consistency. However, a lactating mother camel’s milk actually becomes less concentrated, providing much needed water to her offspring.
This is just one example of camel motherly love. I now experience a much louder variety of motherly love on a daily basis. When Jenni Ray is separated from Amy Ray she moans for her baby girl. Jenni Ray's cries vibrate the drab brown cinder block walls of the Medical Barn. This afternoon I knew it was time for Amy Ray's treatment to begin because I heard Jenni Ray's voice from over a mile away.
Highlight: During the bottle feeding this afternoon, Amy Ray kicked at a vet student. I was more cute than violent. Why did I select this as today’s highlight? Last Friday she could barely stand up. Today she was drinking her bottle while standing and still had enough energy left for minor shenanigans.
Even the most cynical animal care staff member had to admit that Amy Ray is starting to look better. She made short work of both her afternoon and evening bottle. Since coming into the clinic, shehas now gained six pounds. She is still mostly skin and bones but gaining weight is a very good sign.
Amy Ray now wants to walk around during treatments. Our Head Vet handed me the IV bag and said, “This is a job for a tall person so hold it high and follow her around.” Walking side by side with Baby Amy, I was gaining more confidence in her ability to make a recovery with each step. Her prognosis is still guarded but the fact that she is now named after our head veterinarian is giving me more hope than ever.
Lowlight: Today was easily the best day that I have had since coming to The Wilds. If there was a lowlight to be found, it is the fact that photographs of me holding the Cheetah's head during the teeth cleaning are not allowed to be posted on the internet for you to see. It was surreal.
Bolt is a three year old male cheetah that will be shipping out to San Diego Wildlife Park.
Before any animal leaves for another zoo, the veterinary team must perform a pre-ship examination. This exam is a comprehensive check-up, physical and vaccination procedure.
After a quick shot of ketamine, Bolt slowed down considerably. In order to ensure that Bolt was completely out, our vet was now poking his paw with a finger. Next she tickled his ear with the end of the three foot pole. The world's fastest land animal was now fast asleep inside his transportation crate.
At Ohio State, vet students never touch a live animal until the second half of their third year. When the head vet asked if I had ever done a physical exam, I was SO thankful for my physical diagnosis class which Auburn CVM students take in the second term of the first year. I was seconds away from getting to PET A CHEETAH!
As I waited for the thermometer to give me the temperature reading, I quietly sang "Soft Kitty" to Bolt. It seemed fitting because his fur was just as soft as I had hoped. From that point on, everything started to move a triple speed. I ran my fingers through just about every spot on his lean body. Teeth cleaning, heart rate, anesthesia, four different x-rays, tick removal, vaccinations as well as every possible palpation and auscultation within the span of about an hour.
Fact: Camels have oval shaped Red Blood Cells. During extended dry periods, camels can concentrate their blood to sludge like consistency. The oval shaped cells allow the blood to carry oxygen through the smallest of capillaries under these extreme conditions. Their urine is also concentrated to a similar consistency. However, a lactating mother camel’s milk actually becomes less concentrated, providing much needed water to her offspring.
This is just one example of camel motherly love. I now experience a much louder variety of motherly love on a daily basis. When Jenni Ray is separated from Amy Ray she moans for her baby girl. Jenni Ray's cries vibrate the drab brown cinder block walls of the Medical Barn. This afternoon I knew it was time for Amy Ray's treatment to begin because I heard Jenni Ray's voice from over a mile away.
Highlight: During the bottle feeding this afternoon, Amy Ray kicked at a vet student. I was more cute than violent. Why did I select this as today’s highlight? Last Friday she could barely stand up. Today she was drinking her bottle while standing and still had enough energy left for minor shenanigans.
Even the most cynical animal care staff member had to admit that Amy Ray is starting to look better. She made short work of both her afternoon and evening bottle. Since coming into the clinic, shehas now gained six pounds. She is still mostly skin and bones but gaining weight is a very good sign.
Amy Ray now wants to walk around during treatments. Our Head Vet handed me the IV bag and said, “This is a job for a tall person so hold it high and follow her around.” Walking side by side with Baby Amy, I was gaining more confidence in her ability to make a recovery with each step. Her prognosis is still guarded but the fact that she is now named after our head veterinarian is giving me more hope than ever.
Lowlight: Today was easily the best day that I have had since coming to The Wilds. If there was a lowlight to be found, it is the fact that photographs of me holding the Cheetah's head during the teeth cleaning are not allowed to be posted on the internet for you to see. It was surreal.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Day 12: All About Amy
I received a message today informing me that no one cares about what happens to my truck. The sender requested that I focus on all the details of the baby camel. I aim to please...
You will be happy to know that the staff here has finally settled on a name for her. From this day forth, she will be known as Amy Rae. It is possible that her name is Amy Ray, though it doesn't seem quite as feminine. I do not know the correct spelling yet because her medical records still list her as "Camel, Female".
When I saw her this evening during the first treatment, Amy was laying on her side. When we placed her into a more natural position for a camel to rest, the wood shaving bedding in which she had been laying was covering her sandy blonde hair. I removed the stray shavings sticking to her long eyelashes with a delicate swipe.
At times during the two treatment sessions, she showed flashes of brightness but overall her demeanor is dull. While we are giving her fluids, I have taken it upon myself to be her defense against barn flies since she is too weak to shoo them away herself. During the late night treatment, I spotted a large bee making a path towards her face. I picked up a nearby piece of straw and knocked that bee into the next county.
I find myself humming to her during treatment. I count her heart rate, respiration rate, run my fingers gently through the soft hair covering her sides then appologize every time I have to take a rectal temperature. When I was alone in the barn stall with her, I sat on the blanket close to her. She leaned into me a little bit and I responded by cuddling her a little bit.
I am getting attached to this creature and that could be a very bad thing. As a veterinarian, becoming attached to patients can be a difficult thing. In an emergency care situation, emotions are not an ally. I believe that a great vet needs to be able to tread a fine line between caring and calculated. The more time I spend watching Amy Rae wobble around, the more the line becomes blurry.
Highlight: Amy Rae finished all of her formula tonight, gulping the second bottle in record time. The fact that she still has an appetite make me feel optomistic. The vet student who is doing her clinical rotation has repeatedly assured me that she is OCD and will exhaust every option to ensure that Amy Rae is getting the best care possible.
Lowlight: Amy Rae is still not standing up on her own despite my very generous incentive. When treatment is completed, we encourge Amy Rae to stand up on her own. I offered her a deal, "I'm going to count to three. If you get up and make a move to run out the door, I will not try to stop you." Thus far she has not taken me up on the offer.
The prognosis for Amy Rae is currently considered guarded at best. I'm holding out hope for a full recovery. On the short ride back to my cabin, I realized that I should be preparing myself for what might be a very bad ending to this chapter of my internship. I'm just not quite ready to accept that yet. I take comfort in knowing that I am not the only one who feels that way...
Postscipt: I normally spell check and redraft these blog posts. Right now I am looking at under four hours of sleep so please accept my appologies for any errors that might be contained in this post because I just don't have the energy to recheck for grammer etc...
You will be happy to know that the staff here has finally settled on a name for her. From this day forth, she will be known as Amy Rae. It is possible that her name is Amy Ray, though it doesn't seem quite as feminine. I do not know the correct spelling yet because her medical records still list her as "Camel, Female".
When I saw her this evening during the first treatment, Amy was laying on her side. When we placed her into a more natural position for a camel to rest, the wood shaving bedding in which she had been laying was covering her sandy blonde hair. I removed the stray shavings sticking to her long eyelashes with a delicate swipe.
At times during the two treatment sessions, she showed flashes of brightness but overall her demeanor is dull. While we are giving her fluids, I have taken it upon myself to be her defense against barn flies since she is too weak to shoo them away herself. During the late night treatment, I spotted a large bee making a path towards her face. I picked up a nearby piece of straw and knocked that bee into the next county.
I find myself humming to her during treatment. I count her heart rate, respiration rate, run my fingers gently through the soft hair covering her sides then appologize every time I have to take a rectal temperature. When I was alone in the barn stall with her, I sat on the blanket close to her. She leaned into me a little bit and I responded by cuddling her a little bit.
I am getting attached to this creature and that could be a very bad thing. As a veterinarian, becoming attached to patients can be a difficult thing. In an emergency care situation, emotions are not an ally. I believe that a great vet needs to be able to tread a fine line between caring and calculated. The more time I spend watching Amy Rae wobble around, the more the line becomes blurry.
Highlight: Amy Rae finished all of her formula tonight, gulping the second bottle in record time. The fact that she still has an appetite make me feel optomistic. The vet student who is doing her clinical rotation has repeatedly assured me that she is OCD and will exhaust every option to ensure that Amy Rae is getting the best care possible.
Lowlight: Amy Rae is still not standing up on her own despite my very generous incentive. When treatment is completed, we encourge Amy Rae to stand up on her own. I offered her a deal, "I'm going to count to three. If you get up and make a move to run out the door, I will not try to stop you." Thus far she has not taken me up on the offer.
The prognosis for Amy Rae is currently considered guarded at best. I'm holding out hope for a full recovery. On the short ride back to my cabin, I realized that I should be preparing myself for what might be a very bad ending to this chapter of my internship. I'm just not quite ready to accept that yet. I take comfort in knowing that I am not the only one who feels that way...
Postscipt: I normally spell check and redraft these blog posts. Right now I am looking at under four hours of sleep so please accept my appologies for any errors that might be contained in this post because I just don't have the energy to recheck for grammer etc...
Monday, June 24, 2013
Day 11: Unlucky Thirteen
"Oooh fuuudge! Only I didn't say 'Fudge.' I said THE word, the big one,
the queen-mother of dirty words, the 'F-dash-dash-dash' word!" - Ralphie
in A Christmas Story
9:30: We arrive at Lake Thirteen.
9:35: I begin the survey in my hip waders in search of my green leaping arch enemies.
9:37: I hear a frog jump in the reeds just in front of me. I decided that I would circle out into the shallow water to force him to the shore where I would have the upper hand.
9:38: Find out the shallow park of the lake is a lie. The footing gives way underneath my second step. I fill up BOTH of my hip waders.
9:39: The person behind me says, "I decided to follow you for the free entertainment." (I'm pretty sure that my fishing buddies back home follow me into the stream for the same reason)
The morning survey was completely worthless. Lake Team packed up our gear in preparation to survey the next site with hopes of better luck to follow. As my tires spun throwing mud over my freshly washed car, I was one with Ralphie.
Lowlight: The ground underneath Ol’ Sunny Jim, my faithful F150, swallowed his tires up to the running boards. We rocked, pushed, pulled and begged but to no avail. Lake Team gathered tree branches and grass in an attempt to free Sunny Jim from his swampy prison. We only managed to dig a deeper hole with each turn of the tires.
After an hour of trial and error, we finally admitted defeat and radioed for help. After half an hour, we saw help on the horizon. The only problem being that horizon was an adjacent lake with no direct path to our location. Our John Deer driving savior did not spot us from across the pond. I now know how a shipwrecked sailor must feel. After two hours of being stuck in the mud, help finally arrived to free Sunny Jim.
Highlight: The radio crackled with a message from the head veterinarian of The Wilds. She was requesting that I come to the vet hospital at 1:15pm. When I arrived she asked if I would be interested in assisting with treatment on a two week old baby Bactrian camel, a critically endangered species. I agreed to help before she finished the question.
The baby camel was brought into the hospital because a keeper thought that she might have been kicked by another animal on exhibit. Upon examination, a serious infection of the umbilicus was discovered. They had begun a treatment regimen of bottle feeding, fluids and antibiotic therapy every four hours. I would be lending a hand during the afternoon and evening shifts.
When we walked into the medical barn stall where she was being held, it took every ounce of willpower not to run in and hug her little neck. I knelt next to her and she leaned her weary body into me. I stayed in that position even after I felt the tingles of my legs going to sleep.
During each of the sessions, I noticed small progress. Her vitals are improving but she still has a way to go before she will be ready to return to the pasture with the rest of her family. I'll be sure to keep updating you on her condition as the case progresses.
9:30: We arrive at Lake Thirteen.
9:35: I begin the survey in my hip waders in search of my green leaping arch enemies.
9:37: I hear a frog jump in the reeds just in front of me. I decided that I would circle out into the shallow water to force him to the shore where I would have the upper hand.
9:38: Find out the shallow park of the lake is a lie. The footing gives way underneath my second step. I fill up BOTH of my hip waders.
9:39: The person behind me says, "I decided to follow you for the free entertainment." (I'm pretty sure that my fishing buddies back home follow me into the stream for the same reason)
The morning survey was completely worthless. Lake Team packed up our gear in preparation to survey the next site with hopes of better luck to follow. As my tires spun throwing mud over my freshly washed car, I was one with Ralphie.
Lowlight: The ground underneath Ol’ Sunny Jim, my faithful F150, swallowed his tires up to the running boards. We rocked, pushed, pulled and begged but to no avail. Lake Team gathered tree branches and grass in an attempt to free Sunny Jim from his swampy prison. We only managed to dig a deeper hole with each turn of the tires.
After an hour of trial and error, we finally admitted defeat and radioed for help. After half an hour, we saw help on the horizon. The only problem being that horizon was an adjacent lake with no direct path to our location. Our John Deer driving savior did not spot us from across the pond. I now know how a shipwrecked sailor must feel. After two hours of being stuck in the mud, help finally arrived to free Sunny Jim.
Highlight: The radio crackled with a message from the head veterinarian of The Wilds. She was requesting that I come to the vet hospital at 1:15pm. When I arrived she asked if I would be interested in assisting with treatment on a two week old baby Bactrian camel, a critically endangered species. I agreed to help before she finished the question.
The baby camel was brought into the hospital because a keeper thought that she might have been kicked by another animal on exhibit. Upon examination, a serious infection of the umbilicus was discovered. They had begun a treatment regimen of bottle feeding, fluids and antibiotic therapy every four hours. I would be lending a hand during the afternoon and evening shifts.
When we walked into the medical barn stall where she was being held, it took every ounce of willpower not to run in and hug her little neck. I knelt next to her and she leaned her weary body into me. I stayed in that position even after I felt the tingles of my legs going to sleep.
During each of the sessions, I noticed small progress. Her vitals are improving but she still has a way to go before she will be ready to return to the pasture with the rest of her family. I'll be sure to keep updating you on her condition as the case progresses.
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