Veterinarians Behaving Badly

Home Made Baby Food

2013-05-11T13:17:00.000-07:00

Mandy makes baby food for our use in VBB hospital. She buys the cheap turkeys just before Thanksgiving, putting a couple in the freezer when they are on sale. One client brings in a turkey every year just for this purpose, because his puppy began eating as it finally recovered from parvo, and what it ate was Mandy’s homemade turkey baby food. He’s been doing this for years.

We have a stove in the break room, and Mandy boils a whole turkey on that stove, all day, day after day, until it is mostly mush. The entire hospital smells of turkey when this happens. Like Thanksgiving Day at Mom’s. Then into the blender goes the remnants, and from there into ice cube trays, and then the freezer. Ice cube trays provide individual servings of Mandy’s homemade baby food, which thaw quickly in the microwave, or with hot water. We call this food magic, because puppies and kittens, old lady cats and ninety pound pitbulls will eat this before they will eat anything else in the world, and sometimes this saves their lives.

Ya see, thirty-five years ago, Mandy had a baby. The baby came a bit early, and it weighed all of 4.5 pounds, and he took a little work to get him started. Eventually he got to where he’d eat baby food, and since money was just a mite tight back then, Mandy made her own. This set a precedent.

Mandy will tell you that the homemade turkey baby food is magic, but she won’t tell you the entire truth. Sure, the baby food smells great, and it tastes great, and it slides down easy when eating is too much work, but what Mandy won’t tell you is that there is more than mushed turkey and water in those ice cube trays. Nope. That’s not all that goes into that baby food.

What Mandy won’t tell you is that she also infuses a generous serving of love into that food. And the other thing that Mandy won’t tell you is that there isn’t enough room in that baby food for all the love she has to give, so she serves up some more love on the side, every time she feeds her baby food to puppies or kittens or old lady cats, or ninety pound pitbulls. And thus we have magic.

Mandy works for me and thus I’m always giving her things to do around here. Most times she does them. But every once in a while I’ll go looking for Mandy onna counta something not getting done right away, and I’ll find her in the back, sitting next to an open kennel door. The kennel floor will be covered with one of those warm, colorful, padded kennel floor covers that Mandy sews. The water dish will be clean and full. The cat box, if needed, is clean and over there. And the puppy or kitten or old lady cat is curled up in the bed that Mandy makes for them.

Mandy talks quietly with these patients of ours, so she disturbs no one. She’ll generally have a little plastic bowl of warm homemade turkey baby food with her, maybe a spoon or small syringe, or maybe just that second finger on her right hand that delivers fingertips of baby food gently to the nose of a puppy or kitten who just might lick it off, and thus jump start a recovery.

Mandy will have already been sitting there for two hours, talking with her patient, petting or combing or cleaning softly, fussing with and touching and passing on the love she serves up with the magic of her baby food. Mandy learned that you can pass love through your fingers and your voice, and your fussing…pass it on to a tiny premature baby, or a puppy or kitten or old lady cat, or ninety pound pitbull….and that is what she does. That, and the homemade baby food.

I have tests and drugs and a scalpel, and I do what I can. Mandy follows with the homemade turkey baby food and her love, and she brings the miracles I don’t have in my box.

This morning we arrived at the hospital early. We wanted to see how Icarus was doing. This cat had come into our hospital yesterday, and he looked like shit. Sorry. He did. Mostly, he looked like flea dirt, which is flea shit, and he felt like a handful of sand when you picked him up. He had so much flea dirt all over him that the wet parts had turned red.

Icarus lay there on my exam table, limp. His right eye bulged nearly out of its socket. According to the owner, “He ain’t eatin’, and he don’t move much.” That much I had figured before Mrs. Einstein opened her mouth.

Of course she didn’t have any money. Heck, she still owed me a hundred bucks from February. Couldn’t come up with a hundred bucks in three months, although it looked as if her tattoo artist got paid. So no tests or anything useful this day. I got permission to drain the abscess, correct some of the dehydration, start the antibiotics. We’d have to hope for a miracle to do the rest.

So I turned Icarus over to Mandy. She fussed over him for three hours. When she was done, he was clean, about a hundred fleas lay dead on the battlefield, he’d been talked to, petted, touched, fussed over. His drugs were in him, his fluids delivered, and now his bed was warm. And a finger with a bit of homemade turkey baby food was touching ever so gently on his nose. He licked it off. And he rolled over to have his belly rubbed.

When we left for home Icarus could stand, and he had eaten some considerable amount of baby food, and even a bit of canned cat food. And he purred. Maybe, just maybe….

Icarus was dead in his bed this morning. He looked better dead than when he arrived, for he was clean and he died in a relaxed position. But yeah, he didn’t make it. That crying and cursing? Well, that’s what Mandy does sometimes. Especially when she is standing over one of the dead ones who shouldn’t be that way.

She hasn’t done this work as long as I have, and while I walk away muttering something about god damn f****ing stupid ass people, Mandy still screams and cries. And then later she said to me.

“You’re right, you know. You can’t love them more than their own people. You can’t or this will kill you.”

“Yeah, and good luck with that.“

She’ll be there for the next one. You watch.

Media Veterinary Medical Advice

2013-05-08T07:41:00.001-07:00

It's a big thorn in most of our sides when we hear non-veterinarians giving inappropriate (read: wrong) veterinary advice, but in reality most of us are used to it and we usually just roll our eyes and move on to the next problem when we hear the incredibly stupid things people say.

But, this was on the news recently, and the advice is so... how should I say it? STUPID??? That we had to share this link and make sure that we get this incredibly important information out there for all to hear.

Don't worry about zoonotic disease or not having a clue about vaccine schedules or any silliness like that. I mean, vets don't know anything. We stand there talking about this stuff cause we just want that paycheck, not cause we really *know* anything about any of this stuff or because we actually care if little kids go blind from zoonotic disease or any crazy talk like that.

Veterinary Medical Advice by Non-Veterinarians

I can say a few positives, though.

1.) At least they said that animals are expensive and you should be able to care for them. (and saving $10 on those vaccines by doing them yourself is really gonna help when your puppy gets parvo because you were clueless about how to vaccinate and the clerk at Tractor Supply told you to give 3 vaccines 5 days apart)

2.) They are trying to help stray animals.

3.) Canned pumpkin is useful for SOME things. Just not for intestinal parasites.

4.) Molasses does taste good. OH maybe they meant pumpkin pie? I dunno.

But dammit, why do they get to be the heroes and those of us who DO actually "save" animals are always the bad guys?

Do Not Call

2013-05-07T03:54:00.000-07:00

Here at VBB Residential, we are on the National Do Not Call Registry. I don't really perceive that it has helped to reduce the annoyance-call volume, though. I handle these calls in different ways, depending on my mood. Sometimes I just feel like slamming down the phone. Other times I feel like stringing them along. Still other times, I try to engage them in real discussion. Before anyone calls me out for playing games with these people who are "just trying to make a living," I would like to add that I worked at a phone bank in college, trying to raise money for the university, and I am WELL AWARE of the trying conditions such people are working under. Makes no difference to me. Anyway. Just last night....

The phone just rang here as we were finishing dinner:

<ring ring>
Me: hello?
Me: hello, hellooooo, may I help you?Bob: [heavily accented, Indian] Hello, this is Bob from Healthwatch calling to-
Me: excuse me, you are who from where?
Bob: Hello, this is Bob from Healthwatch. I am calling to-
Me: I'm sorry. One more time. Slowly please. You are who, and you work for whom?
Bob: This is Bob from Healthwatch and I am calling to inform you if you have suffered from side effects from prescription-
Me: Oh wait. Do you work for an attorney's office?
Bob: This is Bob from Healthwatch and-
Me: No, wait. I'm trying to figure out what you are bothering me about. Do you work for an attorney, is that it?
Bob: Yes, I am Bob from Healthwatch and I am calling to inform you if you have suffered or a loved one has suffered from side effects from prescription drugs, then-
Me: OK, wait, again, you work for an attorney, and what you're doing is soliciting people to file medical malpractice suits of some kind?
Bob: Yes.
Me: OK, I understand. I have another question. How do you sleep at night?
Bob: Miss, I am not understanding you.
Me: I do not think I could sleep at night if I had this kind of job, it seems like a kind of scuzzy thing to do, to solicit people who have no intention of filing a lawsuit to file a lawsuit.

Some time during that last remark, he hung up on me.

Negative Review Template - How To Blast Your Veterinarian

2013-05-06T06:55:00.000-07:00

Are you pissed at your veterinarian? Have you had a really bad experience at a veterinary hospital? If so, the absolute best thing you can do is leave a really nasty review on Yelp! or Google Reviews. Don't bother actually trying to resolve the issue with a phone call or a face-to-face meeting. That would involve actually talking with the veterinarian and having a real conversation, and who wants that? No, no. Just rip the veterinarian a new one and really soil his/her reputation in a permanent, online forum. If you can do this anonymously, it would be better, right? Right!

But what to say? It's hard to remember all of those terrible details, especially when they made you so mad, so why include details? Just trash the vet! You can do this easily by following our simple form below. Just pick your options and fill in the blanks to personalize it! And best of all, we'll take care of most of the spelling for you, so you won't look like an idiot to the rest of the world in your attempt to blast the vet who really screwed you over. We'll even throw in some really intelligent-sounding language, at least to you, to make it read like you're really smart.

Introduction Option #1:

I really hate to write a bad review, but I took my beloved pet, _{pet's name}_, to see Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_, and it was really, really bad.

Introduction Option #2:

I've taken my beloved pet, _{pet's name}_, to see Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ for _{insert number}_ years, and everything was good until this last visit when _{she/he}_ tried to con me out of my hard-earned money.

Body Option #1:

Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ was really rough with my _{pet's name}_ and I just know that _{he/she}_ didn't like being man-handled that way. Doesn't Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ know that my _{pet's name}_ likes to be cuddled and have her left ear scratched? She had never bit anyone before today! And after that, it was like Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ didn't want to touch my _{pet's name}_ anymore.

Body Option #2:

Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ told me that my _{pet's name}_ needed _{insert treatment/procedure here}_, but _{she/he}_ didn't say it like he really loved my _{pet's name}_. Being the reasonable person that I am, I asked Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ how much _{insert treatment/procedure here}_ would cost and when my head stopped spinning, I asked why it would cost so much. Being the unreasonable person that Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ is, _{she/he}_ went on and on about how medicines and surgeries are costly and that _{she/he}_ had to pay bills and lenders and staff and other business related stuff that really shouldn't matter, IMO, because my baby, _{pet's name}_, needs help.

Closing Option #1:

I thought Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ loved animals, but _{she/he}_ just does this for the money. And the staff was so rude to me. After Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ finished looking at my _{pet's name}_ (for, like, 3 minutes! I know, right!), I got out to the desk and the lady told me how much I had to pay. I said, "What is this? I have to get groceries today!" And she screamed at me that I had to pay. I can assure you that not one more dime of my money will go to that establishment again.

Closing Option #2:

Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ is a greedy doctor who only cares about money. If Dr. _{veterinarian's name}_ really loved animals, _{she/he}_ would know that I don't have that kind of money. I'm not a rich veterinarian! I'm never going back to that money-grubbing place, and neither should you.

To our readers, if you've been hit with a shot of genius and believe you have something to share with the disenfranchised, screwed-over pet owners out there that we may have omitted here, feel free to comment and give your pet-loving friends more cut-and-past ammunition to fire at those evil veterinarians.

No matter which combination you choose, or whether or not you embellish your online slam just a little bit, the point is this: YOU ARE THE VICTIM!!! and YOUR VETERINARIAN SHOULD HAVE TO PAY!!! So log onto one of those review sites, and really let it fly.

Because that's how reasonable people behave these days, right?

Judge not lest ye be judged

2013-05-02T15:39:00.003-07:00

I think if you count down the list, I’ve had at least one of each. Each kind of person, that is. And no, clean up your dirty mind. I’ve had one of each kind of person as a client. Where do you get these thoughts?

Been doing this veterinarian thing for a long time, and at the end of every leash, and carrying every cat, there’s been a person or two. People. Male and female. Young, middle and old. About every race and culture available, rich and poor and undecided. Misers and philanthropists. Educated and …uh, less so. And though not the same as educated or not, I’ve seen smart, or the other. Dedicated and indifferent. Professional athletes and folks in chairs with wheels. Saints and sinners. Cops and criminals. Politicians and professors. The very honest, and the bare faced liars.

I haven’t learned everything, but I have learned some things. You cannot judge the book by its cover, and some people will fool you too. Let me tell you about two.

She was not an impressive looking woman. We get that a lot. This is not a wealthy area, so few women wear designer clothing, carry designer handbags, or for that matter own designer dogs. And they don’t fritter away hours at spas or visit the polite gentlemen who style movie star hair. She looked a bit tawdry. Her puppy was pure mutt, the product of a shameless hussy and a traveling salesman. Somebody had played 52 pickup with the gene pool with this little guy. But, he had a busted leg and needed help.

This was back in the day when a hundred bucks was a good deposit. Because yeah, even then folks would lie about paying their bills. And she didn’t look the type to have much cash just laying around. But she promised to come back with the money.

She did.

Five times she came in that afternoon, with $20 each time. I didn’t ask, but we all wondered if she wasn’t hunting up a few traveling salesmen, or whatever. But she kept her promise and I fixed up her dog.

He was a minister of a local church. Several of my clients knew him. They said he was a neat guy, kinda hip for a minister. Young and handsome. With a wink they also mentioned that he was a bit of a ladies man.

He dressed well, and yeah, he seemed kinda hip for a minister. The dog had some small problem with which we quickly dealt. Then my receptionist presented his bill for service. He was outraged.

It seems he was accustomed to certain favors from local businesses, for he was after all a man of God. He flat told my receptionist that he expected a discount at the very least, and free would be nice. She looked at him with the quiet determination of a good receptionist who was accustomed to folks trying to con her. And she got her money, but boy was he never coming back.

And he stomped out to his Porsche and drove away.

Next time, dude…don’t drive the Porsche.

I’m not saying that I’ve never been ripped off by a hooker, and watch that dirty mind of yours again, or that all of my minister clients have been arrogant reprobates. Not saying that at all.

Just saying that ya can’t tell by appearance, and it really is content of character that tells in the end.

But I’m on disability….

2013-05-02T06:54:00.000-07:00

First, if you are truly disabled, I am sorry. I do not wish anyone to be disabled.

However, if you come into my hospital and I give you an estimate for work up/treatment of your sick pet... please do not answer me with, “But I’m disabled,” like I’m supposed to automatically give you a 50% discount or even do the work for free.

Why does it only seem to be at the vet’s office that you hear this exclamation? I have never heard of anyone going to a nice restaurant, looking at the menu and then saying, “But I’m disabled,” and then have the waitress apologize profusely and suddenly produce a special menu “For Disabled Patrons Only – Special Discount Menu.”

Do they have a special “Disabled Person” discount button at the gas pump? I’ve never seen one.

Do you hear people at the checkout counter in the grocery store say, “But I’m disabled,” and then observe the checkout person suddenly push the special “Disabled Person” discount button?

What about at the hair salon, the dentist’s office or the movie theater???

Then why do I hear the “Cry of Disability” weekly in my office?!

And the icing on the cake is the final statement, “Well, I’m not coming back here ever again” as if I’m suddenly going to drop to my knees groveling and begging that you don’t go.

No, it's not funny. And stop touching me. (Guest post)

2013-04-28T08:40:00.000-07:00

Our reader TBB shares:

The clinic where I (TBB) currently work has a consistent raunchy atmosphere when not
in the presence of clients. The camaraderie and the laughs associated with jokes makes
our soul-sucking job tolerable after the fifth euthanasia of the week. And while in most
work places, this is probably harassment, the truth of the matter is that the jokes save
our sanity. And really, the comments about shaving balls while prepping for a neuter are
always funny. Semen collections are even better.

I don’t appreciate the same behavior from clients. Somehow the fact that we work with
animals makes the filters on our client’s mouths disappear. I have never worked in a job
where so many complete strangers say horrible, dirty things to me. I’m not the only one
either- most techs I know have similar stories.

No one questions the procedure if a doctor has to do a prostate exam on a man- yet I
am constantly bombarded with comments from clients of both sexes regarding which
human will have their temperature taken next. And honestly, I really didn’t want to know
that the last time daddy tried that on mommy he didn’t use enough lube so every time
mommy tried to poop the next week, she bled. Collecting urine also comes along with
a set of comments on how we collect urine, if we need help ‘holding’ or if we would just
like some of the owner’s urine instead.

Restraining animals in exam rooms is apparently also an invitation for owners to get a
little love. All too often, the male owners use petting their dog as an excuse to grope my
breasts. I have seriously considered wearing Kevlar to work, and have compromised on
multiple sports bras and an undershirt in an attempt to look flat chested. I’m not sure if
owners think I won’t notice that they’re petting me and not the dog, or if they just don’t
give a damn.

Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure I’d get fired if I stood up and decked the next guy to give it
a try.

Big Veterinary Confirms VBB's Assertion

2013-04-23T12:54:00.001-07:00

In major breaking, and very shocking news, the much-anticipated veterinary workforce study commissioned by the AVMA has discovered...

... Are you sitting down? Because I think you'll want to be sitting down.

The workforce study has discovered an "excess capacity in [the] U.S. veterinary profession." Numerically, the supply exceeded the demand by greater than an equivalent of 10,000 full-time veterinarians out of greater than 90,000 veterinarians. Yes, AVMA spent membership dues telling us what we've been observing for several years now.

Wow. If you're reading this and scratching your head, thinking, "You know, I feel like I've heard this before... like someone has been saying this for a while..." I submit that you are correct. The Badly Behaving Veterinarians represented here who have commented on the workforce have been unanimous in our claim that the U.S. veterinary market is saturated, that there is not a veterinary shortage, and that claims to the contrary by Big Veterinary, specifically the circular reasoning between the AVMA and Academia along with the U.S. Department of Labor are completely out of touch with the reality in which we practicing veterinarians live.

We'll certainly have more to comment on this as time goes by, and as we have greater opportunity to digest the study. For instance, a line from the AVMA report on the study (linked above) reads, "One question the AVMA hopes to answer going forward is why some clinical practices are working at full capacity and others are not." This is begging for a elementary lesson on supply and demand, and how a decent segment of the public just isn't into consuming certain types of veterinary services these days. But I just don't have the energy to spend on that right now.

I can confidently say that our collective first reaction to the study can best be summed up as...

"Yawn. Yeah? And?"

From Big Veterinary's perspective, pay no attention to veterinary colleges graduating more veterinarians, and don't worry about all of that student debt upon graduation, and don't worry about there being more veterinarians than jobs for veterinarians. Move along. Nothing to see here.

Veterinary Colleges Compete With Alumni

2013-04-18T05:39:00.000-07:00

Not quite a year ago, THE Ohio State University College of Veterinary Medicine (CVM) announced that they were opening a satellite clinic in Dublin, Ohio. For those unfamiliar with the Columbus, Ohio, area, imagine that I-270 runs a loop around the city, and if it were a clock, I-71 would run nearly 12 to 6 o'clock while I-70 cuts across from 9 to 3 o'clock.

"Hi! We're Ohio State! We'll educate you in exchange for crippling debt, and then we'll crowd out your business and endanger your employment."

Ohio State's Veterinary Teaching Hospital is near the center of the clock's face, and the Dublin hospital will be 9.6 miles away at 10:30 on the loop. Whether or not this is in Ohio State's back yard depends on one's perspective.

According to Dr. Rustin Moore, Associate Dean for Clinical and Outreach Programs, it will cover "emergency care... general and orthopedic surgery, internal medicine and other specialty services." It's hard to know if the satellite will be used for training students and residents, as Dr. Moore has asserted, or if it will not be for teaching for the time being, as Dr. Lonnie King, Dean of the CVM, has claimed in his pitch to DVMs in town hall meetings around the state. King high-lighted the increased caseload at the CVM as the key reason such a satellite hospital is needed:
Clients couldn't get scheduled at the teaching hospital in a timely manner

The teaching hospital is inefficient (Is this a shock to anyone?)

In any event, the funding for such an undertaking, around $2 Million, was addressed by a low-interest loan from the University, according the The Columbus Dispatch. Interesting.

So DVMs in the Dublin area, particularly the emergency DVMs in Dublin and Worthington (a mere stone's throw from Dublin), send their state taxes to Columbus... Columbus then allocates funding to the state universities... One of those universities, The Ohio State University, then invests in a veterinary hospital in Dublin. The Dublin and Worthington emergency docs are funding their own competition!

Not only is this crony capitalism, and the furthest thing from a healthy, free market move, it's also nothing short of a crappy way to treat one's alumni. And the alumni in the area aren't pleased. King, clearly a card-carrying citizen of Vetlandia, demonstrated the disconnect we've come to expect from Big Veterinary by saying that those against the Dublin facility are merely a "small group of vocal people." Because anyone who disagrees with Big Veterinary is in the small minority, right?

And I'm not pleased either when I see a dean of a college of veterinary medicine say something as devious as:

"There’s no state money going into this project." ~and~ "Anyone can come to a corner and set up a practice. Columbus is growing. Why shouldn’t we be in that market?"

The first quote is absurd on it's face, as The Ohio State University, source of the low-interest loan mentioned above, is a public university. But in the bigger picture, there are three possibilities to explain King's position:

Dr. King isn't aware of the tax benefits and sweetheart loans that his college receives.
Dr. King (correctly, perhaps) believes you're not aware of the tax benefits and sweetheart loans that his college receives.
Dr. King is aware that you're aware of the tax benefits and sweetheart loans that his college receives, and just doesn't think it's that big of a deal.

If it's the first, how comfortable are you knowing there is a dean of a veterinary college who is unaware of the market conditions around him? If it is the second, how comfortable are you knowing there is a dean taking advantage of a low-information public to unfairly compete with graduates of his own college? If it is the third, how comfortable are you knowing that the dean of a veterinary college is an unashamed elitist snob?

Listen up, Lonnie. The point isn't whether or not you should be in the market, it is whether you should be allowed to compete against your alumni on anything but a level playing field. Because you get public funding, you start ahead of the game compared with your competition; and because this is allegedly {wink, wink} a non-profit venture, you get to maintain your competitive edge each quarter as your competition writes big checks to the government. Some of the dollars from those checks, in fact, will pad the books at Ohio State's satellite hospital. Is this a great country, or what?! It's like double dipping. Or triple dipping... I've lost count by this point.

King went on to say that "the Dublin satellite will help finance the education of veterinary students on Ohio State’s main campus." So we can expect class sizes to be reduced and tuition to be decreased any day now, huh?

Some of my Badly Behaving Colleagues have predicted, "It'll be a specialty and ER hospital until they can't pay their bills. Then they'll morph into a wellness and spay/neuter clinic 'for the students.'" While I have a hard time believing this tax-favored venture with big name recognition will struggle financially, the part about wading further into their alumni-competition's bread and butter, i.e. wellness care, et.al., is only a matter of time.

This is Big Veterinary.

You Only Do _(Blank)_ For The Money!

2013-04-15T14:56:00.000-07:00

As the source of the Newsflash theme that we've been on lately, that I only do veterinary medicine for the money, let me take an opportunity to expand upon what one of my Badly Behaving Colleagues wrote just a short time ago, and what another illustrated with an insane, real-world example.

From time to time, we Badly Behaving Veterinarians are accused of "only doing ______ to make money." Our veterinary-career readers can probably fill in the blanks in a variety of ways.

"I give the heartworm pills every month. You only require heartworm tests to make money."
"I know why my dog is coughing. You only require examinations to make money."
"My dog never goes outside. You only give vaccines to make money."
"My cat has a urinary tract infection, I know it. You only want to culture the urine to make money."
"My goat has been in labor for 2 days. You only want to make money."
"My dog is perfectly healthy and comfortable on [NSAID of choice]. You only run bloodwork to make money."
"So my cat got into a few Tylenol pills. You only want to check her to make money."
"You saw my dog 18 months ago, and she just needs that grooming shot. You only want to examine her to make money."
"My previous veterinarian gave me a year's supply of tramadol [or phenobarb, or valium, or any other drug that shouldn't be dispensed in bulk for legal and/or potential habit-forming reasons], you only talk about that Veterinary-Client-Patient Relationship thing to make money."
"My previous dogs lived over 17 years and never had their teeth cleaned. You only look in the mouth to make money."
__ your suggestion here __

I've got something very, very important to say to these folks, and it's critical that my non-veterinary professional readers understand this.

The only reason I do veterinary medicine is to make money.

Let me be more clear. The only reason I do veterinary medicine is to make money.

Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I enjoy long hours in the surgery room, and I enjoy fixing medical problems. (I could do without the AAC variety, but I guess that comes with the territory.) But I'll never perform surgery or fix anyone's medical problem without good compensation.

I was blessed with an ability to prepare myself for veterinary medicine. I was not born with an ability to play professional sports for a living. I'm not so great at advanced calculus, so engineering was off the table. I don't have a tolerance for treating humans in any sort of medical setting. All of the technicalities of law... completely uninteresting to me. Though it sounded great in my youth, carving out a living collecting baseball cards proved to be unwise, about as unwise as becoming a professional gambler.

But I'm good at medicine, I'm better at surgery, and veterinary medicine is what allows me to make a living.

I don't do veterinary medicine because…

...I love puppies and kitties.
...I have the same love for my patients as their owners have.
...I have a deep, heart-longing desire to relieve animal suffering.
...I like to contribute to an overall knowledge base of a very broad-based profession.

Honestly, I could accomplish any of these had I chosen another profession. There are all sorts of volunteer and donation opportunities that could have stroked my conscience by writing a check every month. My friends have animals... I could love their pets if I had it in me. As a trained veterinarian, I could also perform each of the above at no cost to anyone else.

The haters out there will now accuse me of being a heartless, greedy bastard. But let's examine this for a minute. If I were a heartless, greedy bastard, I'd gouge my clients for every dollar I could. Pretty soon, my clients would recognize this and take their business elsewhere. How much money would I be making then?

Loving puppies, loving a nasty patient, relieving animal suffering, contributing to a knowledge base... none of these, by themselves, feed my family. Just as importantly, performing those tasks without appropriate compensation would absolutely limit my ability to do any of them for much more than about a month. After that time, the bill collectors would come around, and my philanthropic mission would come to an end.

With this in mind, and what follows is the apex of my professional philosophy, in order for me to make as much money as I can over the long-run, I must work to relieve animal suffering, I must care for puppies and kitties, I must care for my patients as if they were my own, I must contribute to an overall knowledge base of a very wide profession... to boil it down,

To maximize my long-term profit and wealth, I must practice good medicine and provide a service to the public that the public wants.

Each and every day. Short of that, I don't make a living. This is what makes me a professional. I set aside my feelings and perform the task at hand.

This is what I do, and I do it for the money.

Because I charge appropriate fees for my services, I have the ability to not only care for myself and my family, I also have a system in place to provide ongoing care to animals and the owners who love them for years to come after the bill collectors make their monthly visits. (And no, you're not paying for my kids' college, you're paying for services that you're receiving. I'm paying for my kids' college with the money that I earn by working hard for a living.)

In the end, who really loves the animals?

The bleeding hearts who want medical/surgical care for cheap/nothing, whose charity establishments will come to an end after collection day (unless they're recipients of 501c3 funding, government checks, or some other outside source of money, which is a whole 'nother can-o'-worms for another time);
Or the heartless, greedy bastard of a veterinarian who fends for himself, establishes a hospital, overcomes the obstacles of regulation/zoning/taxation/etc., meets the needs of the public, and creates an environment conducive to perpetual care?

One of these is sustainable, and I don't believe it makes me a greedy, heartless bastard for keeping my business sustainable.

So when I hear, "You only do _____ to make money," one of these days, my answer is going to be, "You're darn right."

Community hostage, more like.

2013-04-13T04:29:00.001-07:00

Community service: donated service or activity that is performed by someone or a group of people for the benefit of the public or its institutions. Performing community service is not the same as volunteering, since it is not always done voluntarily. (source: Wikipedia)

As a veterinarian, I am sick of “community service”. Here in North Carolina the Public Health Department is responsible for ensuring that every county has a rabies clinic at least once a year. Note: that’s ONE rabies clinic per year. They are encouraged to ask each county’s veterinarians for ‘help’ with the clinic. After all, both the state rabies regulations and the state veterinary practice act require that a licensed veterinarian to administer the vaccine. North Carolina does allow for certified rabies vaccinators (CRV) but only if there is no veterinary participation. Even then, a veterinarian has to be available to supervise the CRV!

So Public Health Guy (PHG) comes to the office to ask for my participation. It’s a public service, do your part, protect the public health, let’s fight rabies, yada, yada, yada. He is not concerned that these animals typically have never seen a veterinarian in their lives. Most are not well socialized and understandably, want to take my head off. Or my hands. Better yet, try to corral a terrified cat loose in a hot car to give it an injection of vaccine! If an animal gets away and gets hit in the parking lot or causes a wreck by running into the road, will the owners acknowledge their own stupidity for not having said animal in crate or on a leash? Will it be Public Health’s responsibility for not arranging an indoor location? No; it’ll be Blame the Veterinarian time- so we have to provide liability insurance for the event.

So after this discussion, Public Health Guy (PHG) shows me a proposed newspaper ad stating what day and time we local veterinarians would be available to provide this valuable community service. The vaccination clinics are scheduled for Saturday afternoons and last for 2-3 hours. Apparently you can’t expect John Q Public to get up and about before noon on a Saturday. So PHG is asking me to take time away from my family to work for free- after I have already worked 6 days a week. Most people will find this odd, but veterinarians like to have time with our families too. They want me to participate this year in addition to the vets that did it last year; with more vets participating wait times will be shorter. Apparently John Q Public complained last year about having to wait 45 minutes to get their $5 rabies vaccine.

Notwithstanding the loss of a big chunk of my precious little family time, the biggest drawback is the cost. PHG is telling me that I can not charge more than $5 for the rabies vaccination. That doesn’t cover the cost of the vaccine, syringe, needle, tag and certificate much less license, staff time, my time and oh yeah, the insurance. But doesn’t the Public Health Department provide the vaccine you say? NO! They provide nada towards the clinic. Zip. Zilch, zero, nuttin’. In previous years, the Public Health Department would at least provide the specific required government rabies tags, the books of vaccination certificates and some administrative help to fill them out. But because of decreased county revenues, the Public Health Department did not budget to cover any costs associated with clinics that they are mandated to hold! You would think, since having the clinics is their responsibility, they would budget for said items. Nope.

Participating veterinarians are responsible for providing EVERYTHING for these clinics: their own time, vaccine, syringes, needles, liability insurance, technicians- who have to be paid (which puts them into overtime) or they won’t be covered by liability insurance, tags, certificates. And oh BTW, you can’t charge more than $5 per pet. When I pointed out to him that $5 does not even cover costs and the participating veterinarians will lose money on every vaccination, he responded “but it’s a community service”. I don’t see him losing money providing the community service! He’s on a government salary with benefits- and he isn’t giving up his personal time to help provide this community service. Yet veterinarians are expected to give up time with family, eat the cost, lose money, endanger themselves and those around them by dealing with animals that are poorly socialized, poorly restrained, in fact many animals that never see a veterinarian, except for the rabies clinic…all in the name of COMMUNITY SERVICE!

Here’s another newsflash - COMMUNITY SERVICE does not pay my bills, feed my family or fund my retirement. I provide community service daily- when I provide spay surgery below cost to make sure people can afford to get it done, when I work with the local shelter to provide care for unowned animals, when I work with the homeless.

The state statute raised the price Public Health Departments could charge for rabies vaccinations but guess what? Public Health doesn’t set the cost in my county- the cowardly bastards leave that to the county commissioners. Never mind that us local veterinarians who are supposed to participate aren’t consulted about our costs, the commissioners set the price to $5. After all, it has to be “affordable”. Affordable to who? Well, to John Q. Public, who feels entitled to government subsidy of their lives. After all, “It is a community service, a win win. For the pet, for the owner, for the community!” Uh, ‘scuse me…am I part of this community? If I have to pay to participate in this project, and am already barely keeping up with my overheard, is this a service to me?

Pet ownership is a privilege, NOT a right, folks. If somebody can’t afford to spend $10 a year on a legally required vaccination that protects them and their pet from a 100% fatal disease, then they shouldn’t own the animal. Shove your entitlement attitude of Community Service up your backside, PHG. Public Health should have the moral fortitude to stand up to the collective entitlement attitude of our society and charge $10. Then next year I might be able to participate without losing money.

At which point PHG states “Well there is always the rabies clinic we want to have in the fall. You could help with that if you don’t want to do one now”.

There is now a dent in my desk the exact size and shape of my head.

The usual suspects

2013-04-12T11:54:00.004-07:00

Things I have been asked in the exam room this week:

Doctor, what's this on her bottom? (This question accompanied by owner's hand tugging on dog's vulva.)
Followup remark: oh, I thought that would have been more internal!
It left me wondering: what was this lady hiding in HER underwear? How would one have an internal vulva?

Doctor, I've noticed one of her nostrils is a little larger than the other, is that ok?

Doctor, when he pees, I can hear the pee hitting the ground. Is that normal?

Doctor, do you think he needs a fecal transplant from me?

Doctor, in people, do the anal glands just empty automatically every time we poop?

And finally, after a long discussion about why the dog on the exam table was unlikely to survive the next few days, let alone make it until mid-May when the adult child of the family would be home from school, during which I used the words "very painful" and "extremely unpleasant way to go," I got "OK Doc, but, before you put him to sleep - do you think you can trim his nails?" I declined to do that antemortem nail trim.

Pennsyltucky

2013-04-11T08:16:00.002-07:00

I'd like to thank our esteemed colleagues in Pennsylvania for sharing with us an excerpt from an email recently sent out to veterinarians in that state. Apparently their regional veterinarian makes a habit of sending out monthly maps showing where there have been diagnosed cases of rabies and listings of potential exposures and so on. The March mailing contained this paragraph:

The maps are attached for your use. There was nothing terribly unusual last month. I will, however, share with you a rabies case we just received a few days ago in which the person who was being attacked by the rabid raccoon killed, butchered and ate said raccoon. Interestingly, usually even the dogs we deal with that kill rabid raccoons do not seem to eat them. While eating a properly cooked rabid animal does not necessarily constitute an exposure, the butchering of the rabid animal can often lead to human exposures and so butchering of rabid animals for consumption is not advisable.

Good to know.

Newsflash

2013-04-10T05:41:00.000-07:00

Get any group of vets together and we're going to bitch. Usually about work. Used to be we bitched almost exclusively about the animals. Now it's almost always the people associated with those animals. Changing times? Maybe I'm just getting older...

Anyway, some of us were hanging out, basically gossiping. Which I hate but hey, whatever. One vet vented that he'd been told by a client, "The only reason you do those heartworm tests is to make money." The reply from an other vet came immediately.

"Newsflash- the only reason I do any of this is to make money."

Sounds like a pretty reasonable thing for somebody to say about work, right? Especially a small business owner- a young professional whose family invested in training him as the next generation owner. This is a guy with small kids who has revolved his life around nurturing the family business so it will provide the financial security to take care of his family.

So why, for the love of Pete, is this guy looked on as some kind of pariah because he is a veterinarian? I mean, WTAF, to borrow an acronym many of you will recognize from our previous posts. Instead of being applauded for creating jobs, or respected as an intellectual or appreciated as a role model for financial success, he gets blasted by clients who don't have the forethought to tend their own health care much less that of their pets. Grooming every two weeks, two pack a day cig habit... but it's the vet who's being a cold heartless bastard for admitting he busts his ass to make money for his family?

And you know what? I might- MIGHT- be able to forgive this poor schmuck for saying something so thoughtless because hey, a lot of us didn't have the advantage of being raised to work hard and plan ahead and play fair even when it meant we didn't take home the trophy.

The ones I truly can't forgive are the guys thirty years ahead of this guy, the leaders of our profession. I can always tell them because they have titles with words like president and board and director in them. Those working a couple days a week in their paid-for practices and their kids already through college debt free... the ones who thin their lips and look like they smelled something bad at the suggestion that this is just another job rather than a noble calling, that what we are looking for is a paycheck and a comfortable retirement rather than the satisfaction of saving lives and alleviating suffering.

Ok, it'd be nice to have it all, to do well by doing good. But times have changed. Most of us will be lucky to keep getting a paycheck; several of us there weren't. We're down to taking what we can get, even if that means having to take attitude from clients like the guy bitching about the cost of the heartworm test.

Maybe that's why so many of the younger vets are taking these huge loans without complaint. They figure it's the best they can get, so they sign on the dotted line and simper "it'll be worth it to do what I love."

Boy, do I have a newsflash for them.

A Case of Mistaken Identity

2013-04-08T09:27:00.001-07:00

I know we've posted before about some of the issues we at VBB Central have with breeders in general. I also know we've posted before about a particularly lame "wolf breeder" whose website is so painfully moronic that I can't even bring myself to link to it again. That said, Retrieverman has done a great job of pointing out some of the problems with that website here.

Anyway, so, my point is that a lot of people just seem to have a lot of ignorance and confusion about animal genetics. Case in point, my friends: MAN BUYS TOY POODLES, DISCOVERS THEY'RE ACTUALLY FERRETS ON STEROIDS!

Ironically, the original English-language publisher of the story gets it wrong too, with their headline reading "Man gets shock of his life when he buys two toy poodles for $150 only to be told by a vet that they are actually GIANT RODENTS pumped up with steroids to look like dogs"....sigh. Ferrets are in the order Carnivora, not Rodentia, and are mustelids, not rodents. I'm just saying.

Bring back Miss Manners!

2013-04-06T05:51:00.000-07:00

I have children, and one thing I try to impress on them is how very important it is to be respectful of other people's time. I teach them that they should not be late for school, for example, because it is disrespectful to the teacher and the classmates, who are either wasting valuable time waiting for them, or wasting time repeating something they have already gone over. My kids seem to have internalized this message and they are pretty good about making sure they are ready to go places on time now.

I wonder if other people's mothers and fathers do not teach their children this lesson, or if more people just really are that selfish these days....

I'm writing this on a Saturday night. I don't spend Saturday mornings with my family. I spend them with my patients, because I know how many of their owners are simply not able to take time off from work to get here during the week, and I want these pets to receive care. There are of course a finite number of these Saturday appointments. I'm not giving up my entire weekend with my children and spouse!

The 9:00 AM appointment today was for a "new puppy, 8 wk old pit bull." I was pretty excited to see it. But at 9:15, my receptionist decided to call the owner. Here's how that went down:

Receptionist: Hi, this is Katie at VBB Animal Hospital. We had an appointment for NewPup down for 9 AM today, were you planning to come in or...?
Owner: Oh. I thought that appointment was for 11 AM.
R: No, we had that down for 9 AM. Would you like me to reschedule it for 11 AM? That slot happens to be open.
O: No, I'm not sure yet if we are actually coming in at all. I'll call you back if I want the 11 AM, otherwise, just forget it.
R: OK, well, if you do want it, please call, or if you'd like to make an appointment for another day, that's fine too. Thanks anyway! Bye.

Really? I would be so very disappointed in my children if they treated someone this way. It's just the height of rudeness and so disrespectful, not only of my time, but the other patients who could have had that appointment at 9 today...

Guest post: first year out

2013-04-04T13:00:00.001-07:00

One thing we know here at VBB central is that we are not alone. You, dear readers, are right there with us on the front lines. Today, Stephanie shares her story. She's a new graduate (class of 2012) all on her lonesome in an ER (don't get me started on THAT, btw...). She has some helpful information for the lay readership:

Public Service Announcement: Contrary to popular belief, it is actually not really physically possible for you, your dog, or any other mammal to actually vomit up their stomach. It may seem like they are trying, and they probably feel like they have succeeded. But I promise you with 99.99999% certainty that the fluorescent pink object that was brought up by your dog at 2 AM is not, in fact, his stomach. It is likely your teenage daughter's completely inappropriate underwear, with perhaps a bit of Alpo thrown in for good measure. So when you show up at the ER at 3 AM, hysterical over the missing organ, please forgive me when I don't seem as worried as you expect. You've told me that your dog now must have "an empty tube" draining kibble into the abdomen, which will of course cause him to bloat [in a stomach that you suspect is no longer there?!? Oy.] I'm sure you did read it on the internet. I really do appreciate* your effort to solve the puzzle for me prior to presentation by contacting Dr. Google, since I am such a fresh-faced young doctor. However, I promise that (barring any severe trauma, of course), there is still a stomach at the end of that esophagus, so he won't be needing that theoretical gastric prosthesis that you found while Googling on your smart phone. I'll just wheel him into the OR, cut the matching bra and socks out of his jejunum, and he'll be well on his way to recovery. Or perhaps some more underwear-eating.

*Sarcasm. Just another service we provide!

Juxtapositioning

2013-04-03T04:00:00.000-07:00

This showed up in a reader's inbox yesterday.

Interesting how Banfield has an ad on gmail, meanwhile AVMA whines they "can't afford" a publicity campaign, but has no problem paying $178,000 for a logo, $615,000 for international activities, $deity-only-knows how much for MyVeterinarian.com when Google is free; NOBODY-knows-how much to redesign NOAH (which, in case you didn't know, stands for No One's Active Here) when everyone's already on VIN and VIN will offer them a members only section and a discount; and an additional unknown amount for a commemorative AVMA history book conceived, designed and executed entirely by staff using the time and infrastructure we pay for. For the definition of "we" that includes those of us currently receiving non-renewal surveys, of course - because we already paid into this, even if we have made it clear we will not continue to do so.

If you haven't already done so, drop them a note at the "why we have a new logo" page (linked above). Tell them why we don't need a new logo. I'm loving the comments so far.

A Plug for Cheapo-Veterinary!

2013-03-31T06:56:00.001-07:00

The second I saw this website, I thought to myself, "How appropriate!" Such a great idea and I suspect we will start seeing more and more of these types of spoofs, given the declining state of the profession and the frustrations felt amongst my colleagues.

Plus, we get tired of having to defend ourselves for, oh, I don't know, things like... earning a living, supporting our families, having lives, etc. to the cheap ass public who thinks vets should do everything for free.

But otherwise this is just some funny stuff. :)

Cheapo Vet

To my friends who invented this wonderful idea that is still making me laugh, kudos to you and your great idea!

He likes WHAT?

2013-03-29T14:19:00.002-07:00

We get all types at VBB Animal Hospital. Today's 10:00 was a new patient of the feline persuasion, and he was hunkered down in his top-opening-carrier. I reached in to take him out, gripping the scruff of the neck firmly with one hand, and using my other hand to support his body weight under the thorax, with his abdomen resting on my arm. The 20something female client was amazed!

Client: WOW! You can pick him up like that?
Me: Yep!
Client: I've heard people talk about grabbing the scruff, but I've never tried it.
Me: well, it works well for us. I find that sometimes it even causes the cat to relax a little.
Client: That makes sense, because, you know - he likes being choked.
Me: [glances at TBB, looks at client] What was that?
Client: You know, he likes being choked. Not, like, to cut off his breathing or anything! just, you know, kind of gently.
Me: Oh. Well, generally choking is not something we recommend, I'm not sure if I'm misunderstanding or-
Client: Oh, this is coming out all wrong. I just mean, you know, he likes it if I squeeze him around the neck, just gently, you know.
Me: well, I'm not sure that I do know, but, as long as he seems to tolerate whatever it is you are doing, and isn't resisting in any way, or having any trouble breathing at any time, I guess it's ok.
Client: Good, because he really likes it.

I hope this cat doesn't come in with evidence of upper respiratory obstruction any time soon. But the owner really didn't seem like a crazy weirdo. She seemed like a totally normal person - aside from the strange remarks.

Of course as soon as she left, everyone started wondering if she had any chickens. Ba dum dum (ching).

Serious or Satire in Vetlandia?

2013-03-28T15:08:00.000-07:00

We veterinarians, at least those of us around the VBB Roundtable, have a good sense of humor. We have to. Consider the fact that we subject ourselves to ingrates, and crazy hats, and sheer craziness, among many other cases documented within these blog pages, yet we keep on doing what we're doing, providing services to the public, and we don't resort to violence.

Having established this fact about ourselves, I submit the following. I'll reserve identifying the sage who made this quote and the esteemed journal in which it appeared until after you've read it:

...I’m confident that AVMA has fully appreciated the issues that the profession is facing, both today and in the future. Although we don’t have answers for all those concerns, we do have plans, strategies, and, as (AVMA CEO) Ron DeHaven likes to say, “boots on the ground” throughout the profession working on solutions.

You have "boots on the ground?" Does that mean the top executives are also $250,000 in debt, just starting a family, and have a 40% (or whatever) chance of finding a job that MIGHT pay them $50,000 a year? Oh, no it doesn't, you say? Well then. Maybe you have boots on the ground, but it's not OUR ground. You're on some special VIP ground. The rest of us do not seem to have been invited to join you.

If we are going to be good stewards of this wonderful association, then it is our responsibility to make good choices for the future health and vitality of AVMA.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about Vetlandia, a mythical place where you gain citizenship, with all the rights and privileges, by graduating from veterinary college.

At its heart, AVMA is Vetlandia.

We do so many things: We advocate, we provide benefits such as PLIT and GHLIT, we produce resources including the model veterinary practice act and the Panel on Euthanasia guidelines. But at the end of the day, the most important thing about the AVMA is it speaks for every one of us. Regardless of what you do—whether you’re a small animal practitioner or you work for APHIS, whether you’re a researcher or you manage dairy herds—AVMA listens to your perspectives and amplifies your voice.

Vetlandia.

You read that correctly.

This might be something you'd expect to read from one of my Badly Behaving Colleagues in the form of some pretty darn good satire. But would you expect this from AVMA President Douglas G. Aspros? In the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association? Believe it. Is he serious? If he is, then in the words of one of my fellow VBB Roundtablers here, "Barkeep, I'll have what he's having!"

Let me tell you something Dr. Aspros. You're no Fred Armisen. I wonder what the Portlandia people think about this?

I'll leave his final paragraph alone, aside from saying that it's exactly what I'd expect out of Big Veterinary. Beyond that, we've made clear our opinion of the AVMA and how well it actually represents us private practioners.

But Vetlandia? From the guy at the top? I appreciate good humor as much as the next guy, but when good jobs for new grads are harder to come by, starting salaries aren't anywhere close to where they need to be to pay off staggering graduate debt loads... and the AVMA has not only not been helpful on these fronts but has actually been contributing to the problem all along by participating in the information that has led to the colleges expanding... we get... Vetlandia.

But it's okay, because we have "citizenship [in Vetlandia], with all the rights and privileges," simply because we graduat[ed] from veterinary college." Well don't I just feel peachy!!!!

Vetlandia.

Awesome.

In the inimitable words of Dan Savage, I'd leave it there, except I gotta snark on this one last thing from the piece:

...I’m particularly excited about finally identifying Mike Dicks (PhD) to head the AVMA Veterinary Economics Division. It’s been a long time coming...

Really? You couldn't say you were happy about finding Dr. Dicks to lead the division, after a time-consuming search? You had to go there with the excited and the head and the long time coming? Ok. I guess that's typical for someone who participates in this kind of circle jerk.

But seriously, regarding Mike Dicks you say you had a long a search to find someone for the position. How much of our membership dues went to this endeavor? How much is he getting paid? And how many new grads would have benefited from that money as they try to find non-existent jobs? Is Dr. Dicks paying you? Or are we? Just curious. How does the money spent on this compare to the $80,000 being budgeted for the new logo that's gonna make everything all better? Or was it $178,000?

Oh, my blood is boiling now just thinking about it. And so, I'm going to leave it there.

Please pass the alprazolam.

2013-03-23T06:03:00.000-07:00

Lately things have been kind of getting on my nerves.

First of all, I do not believe it is ok for anything that has lungs to ride in the trunk of a car. Call me crazy, but this is my strong opinion. So, you know, I found it pretty shocking when my client came to pick up her in-heat bitch, and asked a staff member to carry the dog out to the car and *put her in the trunk*. I'm pleased that my staff member responded appropriately and refused to do this. So the client came inside and asked to speak to me, and told me she didn't understand what the problem was. Her mom's car, you see, has white upholstery, and she was afraid of getting blood on it. I honestly don't really remember the rest of the conversation we had, but in the end one of our towels went home with this lady and her dog, and the dog sat on the towel, and all was good (at least until they were out of the parking lot. For all I know she moved the dog into the trunk around the corner, but I hope not).

Second of all, there is the issue of names. Now, I'm not an idiot (shut UP!). I understand the concept of nicknames. Hell, I even have a few myself. But, in general, for official documents such as medical records, consistency in naming is important. If you, Dear Client, have a pet named Butterscotch, and call him Buddy for short - I totally understand, and that's just fine. However - if you have a pet named Butterscotch, and you register him with my clinic as "Butterscotch Smith," but then you take him to a cardiologist and register him as "Buddy Jones," because you got married or divorced and changed your dog's last name accordingly but never mentioned it to us, then I am going to get a referral letter from Dr. Cardio in regard to our mutual patient, Buddy Jones. And then I am going to search my database for a Buddy Jones, and I may or may not find one - and if I do find one it may or my not be the same age/breed/sex. And I will pull out my hair if I do find a matching signalment because hey - there's nothing in the notes about heart disease! And I will pull out my hair if I do not find one because hey, what WAS the name of the last dog I referred to Dr. Cardio? It's just all very frustrating. PLEASE, Dear Client - be consistent.

Third of all, we have the issue of emergencies. We all know that sometimes emergencies happen. When you roll into my parking lot while I'm walking out the door to head home to my family, and your dog is gasping for breath, guess what? I am going to run over and start helping you. If you walk in during my lunch break and your cat has blood pouring out of its rectum, I'm going to put down my quinoa salad and start working the case. HOWEVER -- if you walk in during my busiest appointment time and DEMAND that we see your dog RIGHT NOW because he has been licking a red spot on his foot for three weeks and it is now an EMERGENCY because you have to leave to get to the airport in 20 minutes or you will miss your cruise, well, GUESS WHAT? That is not, in fact, an emergency according to the Laws of the House of VBB! That is what we call a "client emergency," and if you are very very lucky, and I'm in a good mood and the stars are aligned, I'll accomodate you. But if I am busy with people who thought ahead and made appointments for their pets, I'm not going to make them wait past their scheduled time because you were thoughtless. Sorry. Just the way it is!

Tell me - what's been getting on YOUR nerves lately? And please pass the alprazolam - this chamomile tea isn't helping at all.

Penny and Ed

2013-03-21T08:14:00.001-07:00

Penny was 6 weeks old when she first visited, back in 1996. Sounds like a century ago, and yeah, it’s been a while. A little red dachshund, Penny showed personality already, which meant she fit in with the gentleman who brought her by. She looked around my office as if deciding whether it met her expectations. Yes, you may pet me, but no…I’d rather you not look into my mouth nor touch my feet. Assertiveness training would not be needed to complete her package.

Her person was a man older than I but how old was a bit difficult to divine. Neither tall nor overweight, I guess you’d call him wiry. Whoever chiseled his face out of that rock had cleverly lined it with the wrinkles of both wisdom and laughter. His dress was as casual as the old pickup truck in which he arrived. The truck sported a stained formerly white camper shell that looked like it was actually used for camping, and I had no problem visualizing a spot under a large pine, lake over there and white granite boulders here, an old fire ring and a comfortable chair, with books to read and sunsets to ponder. And at one time a glass of something to help with the memories, the ones you really don’t need to remember. Did get the impression that the man was comfortable alone.

I don’t believe he worked. I hope he wrote, but I never asked. Always seemed he had something to say worth listening to, but you would have to start before he joined in. Below the cuff of his left pant leg lived the wooden leg. It was exquisitely stained a deep reddish brown and then lacquered to a mirror finish, with a black round rubber “foot”. A peg leg. Ed could have passed for a pirate direct from central casting had he so wished.

Penny stopped by for her puppy vaccines right on schedule, endured the hysterectomy at six months, and then periodically over the last 17 years, we’d cut her toenails. Nobody else could. She wouldn’t allow this. Not an uncommon trait in the wiener beast. We always managed to get the job done with only the minimal amount of persuasion. She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t a deal breaker for her. And it gave me a chance to get to know Ed better. He always saw that Penny got whatever she needed.

Eventually, we got around to that wooden leg.

War is not healthy for people and other living things. I knew all about that, I thought, except for that where I actually learned first hand. I skipped that part. Ed didn’t.

His war was Korea. If it were not for the MASH TV series, no one around here would remember Korea. It was the first war we fought to a draw, on purpose. And like soccer, that made little sense to Americans. Likely that accounts in large part for our amnesia. We’ve grown accustomed to this now, since apparently that’s the new proper way of doing war. But unless you talk to one of that war’s veterans, you probably missed it. Ed remembered.

I kinda walked Ed into this discussion with both feet in my mouth. I probably mentioned his leg, and then I pried a little too far. He got the far away look in his eyes, the eyes that suddenly lost their sparkle. Real quiet filled the room. Even Penny stood still, eyes on her person. I felt it in the pit of my stomach. I went to change the subject, but he stopped me. I guess he felt like talking that day.

Much of that war involved fighting over hilltops with numbers. No features, just numbers. You generally want to be fighting downhill in war, so this made some sense. Ed’s unit was entrenched upon such a hill, and when the other side showed up in the middle of the night they did it with thousands more men. The usual mess ensued; the position was overrun and then retaken later in the day. Just another hill with a number.

When things settled down, they made a pile of the Chinese bodies over there, and the American bodies over here. Somebody was having a smoke when he saw a finger twitch on one of the American bodies deep in that pile. That was Ed’s finger.

Anyway, that’s how Ed got the wooden leg, and presumably this exerted some influence over the next 45 years of his life before I met him. He was a neat guy, but I wouldn’t have traded places with him.

Ed was married, sorta. His wife Vivian was also an interesting person. I believe he said they met over a bottle, or maybe at one of those meetings on the rebound after the love affair with a bottle ended. After Ed passed she brought Penny in, mostly for toe nail trims. Got to know her well too, and liked her. But then she also grew sickly, and so an adult son began bringing Penny in.

He got the house and dog when she left. Dan wasn’t near as interesting as his mother or Ed, but he got by. And for years more I saw Penny infrequently, took care of the things Dan would let me do, and cut her nails. There were other things that could have been done for Penny, should have been done, but as these things sometimes go, we didn’t get the chance.

Dan met me outside the clinic when I unlocked the doors after lunch on Monday. He looked like heck. I’d seen the appointment on the schedule, five o’clock, euthanasia, Penny, age 17. He didn’t have any money, but would I still put Penny to sleep that afternoon? He’d pay me later.

Sometimes you break the rules, the rules you force yourself to follow because of how easy you can make it for people to steal from you if you don’t. But for Penny the rules don’t apply, so yeah I’ll do it.

Penny looked pretty bad. She was fat as usual, and those various large growths were still poking out of her like they had for the last few years. Her mouth was horrid, thanks to Dan postponing all those suggestions to deal with that. But she was still in there, and her personality still filled the room. So why are we putting Penny to sleep this afternoon?

Well, Dan finally lost the house, and he has nowhere to live. Nowhere. He has no place for Penny anymore.

Life puts you into situations, sometimes. It put Ed on that hill once, and Penny on my table many times, and now it put her fate into my hands. And the best thing I could do for Penny, and for Ed’s memory, and for Vivian’s sweetness, was to let Penny go. I didn’t do it for Dan, for although I’d known him for years I felt no connection there. He followed his own path, because of or despite whatever Vivian and Ed had done for him. I owed him nothing.

But if there is one simple sentence that sums up why we humanely end some lives, it would be this. If it genuinely feels like you are doing a beloved pet a favor by letting them go, you are.

And so, I did.

Please Hire a Proofreader!!

2013-03-13T09:05:00.000-07:00

Sent to VBB by a fan.

Other than "what a prime example of where the profession is going", there are no words for this. What a shame and an embarrassment to this profession.

You have 5 minutes to come up with as many comments as possible. Okay more than 5 minutes. Rip it apart. This doctor should be ashamed of sending this out to the public.

**Names and phone numbers are blocked out to protect the innocent, although we at VBB think this doctor's name should be printed as well. If you're gonna put this out there, prepare to defend it to your colleagues!

Someone Else's Eyes

2013-03-11T15:08:00.000-07:00

As with most veterinarians, I was away this past week on "vacation", which really means I went to a continuing education class and took a few days off before it so I could have some down time. Vets don't take real vacations - you know, the two weeks off where you get to really decompress and start to realize maybe you have a good life, the ones where you actually are excited to return home?

Yeah. It wasn't one of those.

Now, granted, I will admit that the location of the CE class was pretty stellar. It was held in Yosemite National Park, which, in my opinion, is one of the most beautiful places on earth. Still, there's something wrong about sitting in a classroom, staring out the window at the granite mountains, wishing you weren't having to learn anything. In fact, cashiering at the gift shop or working the flat top grill seemed more appealing to me than returning to my life as a vet. At least, for a few minutes, that is....

But...

I did squeeze in two days of super duper fun in the.... snow. Downhill skiing. A good friend of mine told me that the only way she was ever really able to decompress was to do something that completely took her mind off of her practice and of being a veterinarian. For her it was extreme sports.

It's kinda like that for me, too, in that I have to do things that completely exhaust me, that have nothing to do with veterinary medicine. Thus, downhill skiing and scuba diving are my two favorite pasttimes.

So I downhill skied for two days and forgot all about being a veterinarian.

That is, after the first two hours of Day One.

See, I took some refresher lessons, and while riding the lift up to the sissy little bunny slope, the cute, nice ski instructor (are they defined any other way?) said to me:

"Your husband told me that you have my Dream Job. You're a veterinarian!"

To which I replied,

"Yeah."

That was it. That was about all that I said. I did manage to mutter out a few words that said something along the lines of, "it's a really difficult job to be a vet" while the instructor was talking to me about various things related to animals. I barely heard anything he said because - to be honest - I hadn't skied in a while and I was trying not to piss my pants before getting off the lift!

So the scary part did distract me.

Later on though, I realized how rude I must have sounded. It may have been partially because I was trying to focus on not dying while downhill skiing, but... the hard truth was that I had no positivity to offer about my profession, I didn't say much about my practice and I never once said, "Oh yeah, it's a GREAT JOB!" I didn't even THINK that.

To him, I hold a high position, a dream position, and he was excited about it and envious.

But what I thought was, "wow, I have his dream job, and he has mine... a ski instructor in Yosemite."

Could we switch places please?

I guess what has lingered in my mind about this interaction is my question to myself of when did I lose that feeling of ambassadorship for my profession? When did I start rolling my eyes to myself when someone mentions that it's their dream job? When did I start screaming in my head to people (that they never hear) that it's NOT a dream, but rather a NIGHTMARE job on some days?

There are theories that those of us who are the kindest, the most sensitive, most emotional types of people suffer the most of PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). I just never, ever, in my entire life, thought that my choice of career would worsen that for me. But it does.

I have no idea how to break that cycle other than to continue to find and develop my life outside of vet med. If anybody has any other advice, not just for me, but for our readers who might be experiencing the same thing... please chime in.

Till then, I'll keep pursuing the things that make me happy that have absolutely nothing to do with being a veterinarian, and I'll keep going on vacation, pretending I'm living a different life, if only for a few weeks a year.