My first Saturday of the year

Still rested and with fond memories of the glorious New Year's Eve, I started with my first (dreaded) Saturday of the year.
As usually, it starts bright and early at 7 o'clock and it has potential to go on until the next day at 8.30 am when you pass over the phone to the next vet in charge.
Zooming thru the morning rounds, it was 2 minutes past 8 am and there were already 2 early patients waiting in the reception area ready to be seen.
And then it went on and on. I kept seeing people and patients till 2.30 pm. By the end of the session I was mumbling and I personally couldn't understand what I was trying to comunicate with the clients. But that's another issue. Of course, as it happends, in such long hours, one gets to see everything, ranging from sheer drama (road traffic accidents, blood, shock, serious neglect) to sheer nonsence (somebody waited for an hour to see me in order to tell me how her nearly one year dog is shaking her head in a cobra the snake-like fashion the minute she tries to lay down, only this morning. Physical exam was unremarkable,the dog was great, its ears were great, I send them home with the magical words monitoring and partially crying, partially laughing within myself).
Anyway, with the ear hematoma I had to solve next and the afternoon rounds, here I was, ready to go home at 5.30 pm. Which I did...knowing very well I am on call and anything can happen, but secretly wishing it will be quiet, I mean, I had already seen half of George Town that day already...!

So I had time (how God is ironic at times:) to dress up, and actually show for a lovely dinner invitation. Friends around, sparkling conversation;) and I actually had time to eat the salmon prepared by the lovely hungarian, (God is also merciful) and so I was enjoying the dinner and the people around me when....
the unavoidable happens and the phone rings.
I fled the warm dinner within 5 minutes, as it was an emergency, some body's dog had eaten a whole box of chocolates that afternoon while the owner was missing....and for you, non-veterinarian, you must know that chocolate is toxic to our canine friends.

And turns out, the owner brings along not one, but 2 (!) Labradors, that were alone with the offending box of now-gone chocolate.
We spent 3 hours together. Step one: making them vomit. We didn't know how much time had passed since ingestion, and even which one, so it was double trouble; since we don't have here for some reason that magical injection with apomorphine that makes them sick within minutes from the injection without fail (aargh, why not?! bloody regulations) I had to resort to the good old ways. So me and the owner were soaked , first peroxide, then a really saturated salty solution that we were administering orally to 2 very resentful doggies.

Peroxide did nothing, and salty water did the trick in one of them. The other one, stubborn as a mule. N-o-t-h-i-n-g. One of my colleagues has a trick thou, which I used succesfully as my last resort. A single IV full dose of cefazolin, and antibiotic that makes them usually sick if given fast IV. Which I did, which the dog did. Turned out she wasn't even guilty and only the other one had eaten the chocs.

Step two: giving them charcoal orally to absorb the potential remaining chocolate. The owners yellow shirt turned black, I was black, the dogs were annoyed, I was resigned by then knowing I won't make it back to the dinner....

Step three: IV catheters and starting them on IV fluids.
Step four: running a chemistry panel making sure all is Ok. Well, the innocent one was OK, the other one has a few values messed up, but not massively. I hoped the IV fluids will do the trick.

Step five: adieu to the owner (who happend at least to be a very nice and cooperative owner, kudos to him), writing my bill, and off I go, nearly midnight.

The night still had one surprise in store...(ha ha)...at 4.30 am the phone rang. A dog was giving birth and the owner was scared and wondering if the delivery was going well. I asked how much time had passed since the last puppy and she said, few minutes. Ok, I said, call me back in 2 hours if another puppy is not emerging. (Oh, please God, please God, make it alright and make her not call me back...zzzzzzzzz)

The phone didn't ring till next morning around 8.30,with another case (the dog's delivery went very well) when I was quite happy to say "yes, sure, bring it to the clinic" while I was driving myself towards there but only to drop that bloody phone off.....

...and continue with a quiet and sunny relaxing Carribean Sunday of doing almost nothing and soothing my nerves:)))) and pointed with an adventure of diving right outside 7 Mile Beach till underneath the before mentioned yacht so see it's anchor and sheer size from underneath.

Oh, how we have fun as vets:)))