One night

...one plain night, or what the on call does to a human being....

I have sustained many times that being on call should be banned by law if possible, but that is just my personal opinion.

Anyway, read this...one fine night, 4.30 am, the phone rings. Vet asleep, in deep slumber. Barely conscious, reaching the phone "Hhhello, this is the emergency line, how may i help you" with a voice coming from the caves. Prr-tszt-ksick-prr comes from the other end. I try again.. "this is the emergency line"... nothing. Some distant voices far. Finally I realise it's a misguided call and I put the phone down. Then in the darkness of the room and as my neurons come back from zzz dreams, i start to worry, as i wonder if it's really an emergency, if they will call again, etc. etc.

Luckily by now more neurons awake and I realise.... I am NOT on call, the other phone is not around and that was my private phone that went off. Pffffiuuu.....
then I shut down the offending sole phone present and try to make it for another 3 hours of sleep.

One of my nights

We are a 4 vet practice, and we kept considering what would be the best routine to split the on call nights amongst us. Our practice does after hour emergency service, and there is a lovely phone that we have to keep close to us in those nights when we are on call and answer it regardless of time. Originally we had a week each one of us, and for the whole week we would have the phone, on turns. Coming out fully drained out of the week on call (and somehow before you knew it...it was your turn again:) we decided to switch the strategy and just keep the phone one night at a time. Thus, 1 night in 4, I am on call.

Currently, due to holiday/ hurricane season, most people are away from the island and there is a certain feeling of relaxation, especially when it comes to the dreaded on call nights.

I was almost certain it was going to be one of those quiet Friday nights, when all else that remained on the island are out having a good time, and every animal soul will be safe and sound in their homes.

How wrong I was:) It started at 7 pm. Wife has got a parrot, husband gets bitten in the face by the parrot. Husband throws the parrot on the floor, parrot stunned, not moving, panic, why did you throw the parrot?!, aaargh, and that's when they called me.
We arranged a clinic meeting, half an hour later. By then the parrot had recovered uneventfully with all limbs intact, a pain killer for his contusions and off they went. Wife was happy, husband will probably not touch the parrot ever again.

At home, in bed, midnight. Dozing off happily, when the phone rings. Cat, attacked by dogs, just barely was found in the yard, unable to move hind legs. Panting, shocky, the whole picture. Again meeting at the clinic, thankfully i never fell asleep driving over. Exam, IV, fluids, steroids, antibiotics, XRays, temporary closure with surgical staples of the few superficial wounds.

2 hours and a half later, back in bed. This time, I think to myself contently, the night is nearly over, what can go wrong now, time to doze off.

Wrong;) 4 am, a seizuring dog and his worried owner were calling. Luckily, I may say, this is a dog known to have seizures for years, and all the meds don't seem to do much for him, they last a couple of minutes every time and he recovers uneventfully (so far, at least). Knowing the whole history, we postponed till the next morning, bright and early.

This time, I really adored the 1 in 4 nights on call. Another consecutive night like that....

Goodbye and Hello!

Uhmm.. I didn't say, did I... why vet? As with all important great things in my life... it just happened! Of course, I always loved animals and wanted to have a little dog or kitty (or horse, lizard, panther, giraffe and many others), but becoming a vet never crossed my mind until 12th grade. And there I was, 12th grade, April or so - when all my colleagues had been preparing for a long time already for admission exams to university - refusing to take a decision that would affect the rest of my life. Then, because my mother insisted repeatedly, I bought the brochure with all Universities and I started cutting one by one all I thought I'd hate. I was left with architecture and vets, and architecture required good maths marks during high school (my average was around 5!)... so here I am!

I remember as if it were yesterday how it felt, the first day at the University, when right after the opening festivity I had to rush to get to the Histology lab; I didn't want to be late (as I was almost every day back in college years ;)) and as I was trying to find my way to the building situated in the opposite corner of the yard, I was thinking it seemed enormous and labyrinthic...

I also remember clearly how was the first lab exam (colocviu?) - anatomy - the bones! with Georgescu; a whole week of studying like crazy, determined not to miss a single exam and to be a model student... off course I failed! Almost all of us did.. that was the first from a long stream of deceptions.

Then better days followed, I started getting used to it, understand how it goes and what needs to be done to be all right.. but still I remember I couldn't wait for it to be over and done with, finish the faculty and escape from that sickening environment.

And then, in the very last day, right after the presentation of my work license, i was overwhelmed with a bunch of contradictory, surprising feelings: some sorrow that I didn't study more, that I didn't take advantage of all opportunities, that in my rush to finish faculty I didn't stop to enjoy it more, like I should have.. but also gratitude to my parents who supported me and kept me going so many years (..another 7!), and a huge gratitude for the Pathological Anatomy team of teachers, who helped and supported their students in a way I think no other teacher did (and a special big THANK YOU for Teo Soare who was absolutely great all the way!).




So I guess I bored you enough with this sentimental stuff, but I just felt I gotta let it all out so I can say GOOD BYE COLLEGE YEARS! and HELLO to what I hope will be an exciting great VET LIFE!
I'll get back to you soon with a brief from Great Little Britain,
Miss you all out there very much!
Irina

You don't know where you're going....

...if you don't know where you've been.

7 people, each with different backgrounds and motivations, same job title. What brought us here? Well, feeling somewhat introspective today, I decided to post today something on the early beginnings.

You see, my mother wanted me to be a lawyer. I have resisted this idea more then a Clostridium spore in hard times, and eventually went on to become a vet.

What else, if ever since I can remember (and this is precisely 1982) I was completly drawn and fascinated by 4 legged creatures. The slightly burgeois picture shows me convinced that even they didn't move, those horses could really get into motion IF they so wished, so I was pretty much on top of the world there and then. (Predeal, summer of 1982).

Growing up on a the grey and concrete city that Bucharest is, contact with this fantastic

creatures wasn't easy, especially all equine creatures that owned without doubt, supremacy. Still dreaming at a lawyer daughter, my mother had the brilliant idea around 1984 onwards to take me once a year, while in holiday at the Black Sea, for a few hours to visit an ride at the Stud in Mangalia. (actually located in Venus but minor detail).

This is an Arabian stud located very close to the Black Sea, I can truly say the day spent there was the high rise of the whole year, a fantastic land populated with 300 plus horses, imagine

that. I even got to ride, or so I like to believe I suppose, as you can see from the picture on the left, and thank God, they were able to find some nice quiet Arab horses which were available for the public. Not officially of course, but for some extra monetary attention, but we are all human beings, right?

To the day, and may it be good or bad, going to a horse stud is the subconscious equivalent of an incredible experience, althou really the bitter truth is that romanian studs aren't all that great anyway, due to huge financial constraints, poor management, and so on. In the student years, I actually visited all the national studs, evenly spreaded all over Romania, even the most exotic one, in Lucina, that lies very close to the border of Ukrain, breeds Hutul horses and is so wild, that wolfes still manage to grab a few foals every winter.

Promise to post later on a whole story and pictures upon the romanian horse studs, but for now...

You'd expect me to be now a horse vet I suppose, well, the complicated ways of life and jobs....NO,NO, NO, I am not a lawyer but more into the small animal practice so far. The fascination is still there thou, just as unchanged.

andreika's