Briefly: Bucharest, GIA, Almavet,FamilyVet team, 20 Feb, 39 dogs and cats fixed!
I'll be showing more!
Showing posts with label Vet Saturdays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vet Saturdays. Show all posts
Monday, 22 March 2010
Just spay!
Briefly: Bucharest, GIA, Almavet,FamilyVet team, 20 Feb, 39 dogs and cats fixed!
I'll be showing more!
Thursday, 8 January 2009
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:)))
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:)))
Saturday, 4 October 2008
1 in 4 Saturdays in my little island
Every 1 in 4 Saturdays, my turns comes for a working Saturday. We all have a big dislike for the day... not only you're working when most of the people are not, but the whole clinic is up to one vet to manage, which happens to be ... you, and apart from that the whole of George Town rushes in Saturday mornings to solve issues which they haven't had time to solve during the week.
It all starts at 6.15, out of bed, scrubs on, quick breakfast and the drive to work. Still have time to appreciate the scenery, the sea so peaceful in the mornings, as i drive right by, taking the slightly longer road to work. All to postpone the unavoidable...the following 9-11 hours of rush.
I drive by, look at the sea, the palm trees, the odd jogger (why don't they sleep???), and before i know it, I'm at work.
I don't have much time. I have an hour to finish the morning rounds, which is not a lot, and which means taking the files of every single animal in the hospital, making notes of each one's evolution from the previous day, giving the medication and deciding discharge, changes of treatment, etc. etc. I don't always get to finish in that small hour, despite the fact that I run around as fast as I can, but sometimes the sheer number of patients is too much. If I don't finish, I have to come in and out of appointments and finish the rounds.
Time runs, it's already 8 o'clock. The gates officially open. People sometimes queue up since 10-15 minutes ago, and before I know it, I already have 3 files lined up, waiting for me to call them in and do whatever everybody needs.
It doesn't stop for the next 6 hours. People line up, my stress levels used to go sky high when the files pile up and I had 5-6 waiting....now I am more cool about it, I just take each case at a turn and focus on that specific one. I have to see appointments, which tend normally to be yearly examinations, but also walk-ins, people that have an urgent problem and called in the day before to be seen, and on top of that if there is any big emergency coming in, like a road traffic accident, I have to drop everything off and solve that one and then come back to the waiting people. It feels like MASH for most of the time, except there is no Alan Alda around, but a receptionist that is just as hectic as I am, checking people in, answering the phone calls, trying to calm down the nervous people that have been waiting for an hour by now:)
At one the gates close officially, and that leaves me to finish off the rest of the waiting people. It's been 5 hours of non stop talking, so by the end I feel myself not being coherent. I fight that as much as I can:)
So typically around 2 the appointments finish. It's the time to go back in the main hospital area, and start doing all the animals that need further attention...x-rays, blood work, etc. They are either in-patients or patients that i have saved for later during the morning appointments.
In the same time, I am officially on-call after one, so I have to keep handy the on-call phone and make sure I answer it.
A good Saturday will not involve major surgery...but you never know.
Typically around 4 I finish everything...and I can start the afternoon rounds. Again the files, notes, the evening meds...
And so, around 5.30-6 pm a optimistic vet gets into the car to drive off at home into the sunset...which does not mean I will not have to come back within 3 minutes, (remember I am still on call? anything can happen. anything!), 2 hours, 5 hours, middle of the night....
or hopefully only the next morning when I have to turn the phone in....and I am off the hook!
By then, however, I am totally drained of energy, but I still can't help to enjoy my Sunday in the Caribbean. I love my diving on Sunday mornings, and the quiet underworld where there are no phones or emergencies:)
It all starts at 6.15, out of bed, scrubs on, quick breakfast and the drive to work. Still have time to appreciate the scenery, the sea so peaceful in the mornings, as i drive right by, taking the slightly longer road to work. All to postpone the unavoidable...the following 9-11 hours of rush.
I drive by, look at the sea, the palm trees, the odd jogger (why don't they sleep???), and before i know it, I'm at work.
I don't have much time. I have an hour to finish the morning rounds, which is not a lot, and which means taking the files of every single animal in the hospital, making notes of each one's evolution from the previous day, giving the medication and deciding discharge, changes of treatment, etc. etc. I don't always get to finish in that small hour, despite the fact that I run around as fast as I can, but sometimes the sheer number of patients is too much. If I don't finish, I have to come in and out of appointments and finish the rounds.
Time runs, it's already 8 o'clock. The gates officially open. People sometimes queue up since 10-15 minutes ago, and before I know it, I already have 3 files lined up, waiting for me to call them in and do whatever everybody needs.
It doesn't stop for the next 6 hours. People line up, my stress levels used to go sky high when the files pile up and I had 5-6 waiting....now I am more cool about it, I just take each case at a turn and focus on that specific one. I have to see appointments, which tend normally to be yearly examinations, but also walk-ins, people that have an urgent problem and called in the day before to be seen, and on top of that if there is any big emergency coming in, like a road traffic accident, I have to drop everything off and solve that one and then come back to the waiting people. It feels like MASH for most of the time, except there is no Alan Alda around, but a receptionist that is just as hectic as I am, checking people in, answering the phone calls, trying to calm down the nervous people that have been waiting for an hour by now:)
At one the gates close officially, and that leaves me to finish off the rest of the waiting people. It's been 5 hours of non stop talking, so by the end I feel myself not being coherent. I fight that as much as I can:)
So typically around 2 the appointments finish. It's the time to go back in the main hospital area, and start doing all the animals that need further attention...x-rays, blood work, etc. They are either in-patients or patients that i have saved for later during the morning appointments.
In the same time, I am officially on-call after one, so I have to keep handy the on-call phone and make sure I answer it.
A good Saturday will not involve major surgery...but you never know.
Typically around 4 I finish everything...and I can start the afternoon rounds. Again the files, notes, the evening meds...
And so, around 5.30-6 pm a optimistic vet gets into the car to drive off at home into the sunset...which does not mean I will not have to come back within 3 minutes, (remember I am still on call? anything can happen. anything!), 2 hours, 5 hours, middle of the night....
or hopefully only the next morning when I have to turn the phone in....and I am off the hook!
By then, however, I am totally drained of energy, but I still can't help to enjoy my Sunday in the Caribbean. I love my diving on Sunday mornings, and the quiet underworld where there are no phones or emergencies:)
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