Corrupting the minds of innocent Vet students.

     In our practice we quite often get Vet students riding along with us to gain experience in Food Animal medicine.  Such has been the case this past week.  It's always enjoyable to have these students with us, as their excitement and passion is contagious.  It will remind a person why they got into Veterinary medicine in the first place.
     Yesterday I was in the middle of a tough OB.  The calf was upside down in the uterus of the mother, and was too big to manipulate into the proper position.  We eventually did a C-section to get the calf out. 
     Before that decision was made though, I was buried shoulder deep in the back side of the cow.  Usually I'm pretty quiet during this process, with the exception of maybe a few grunts as I struggle to straighten the parts into their proper position.  But as we had an eager young Vet student with us, I was trying to describe what I was feeling and what I was attempting to do.  After having told her that the head of the calf was corkscrewed around backwards, the tech that was with me turned to the Vet student and in all seriousness said "Go up front and blow on the nose of the cow to help turn that head around."
     She walked to the front of the cow, and I think was really going to attempt blowing on the cow's nose.  Then I think she heard my tech snickering and slowly turned around "Are you being serious?  You guys have some strange tricks that sometimes seem to work despite how weird they seem. I never can tell when you are teasing me."

Hoof beats

     This morning I was called to a farm by a gentleman who was certain that he had a cow suffering from a very rare condition causing it to be unable to rise.  As I questioned him on the phone before going out, I was convinced that he did not have the problem he thought he had.  There was a saying taught to me in Vet school that says "When you hear hoof beats don't look for a zebra, watch for the horses."
     So as I got to the farm and examined the cow, while I had the condition he was worried about in the back of my mind, I was looking for something much more common.  Which is what I believed that I'd found.  I told the gentleman that I thought his cow was suffering from milk fever, and that after we ran a bottle of calcium to her that I thought she'd get up.
     So I got the Calcium ready to administer, and pulled a halter out of the truck.  I use the halter to tie the head over to a back foot, exposing the jugular vein and allowing me to administer the Calcium there.  The farmer being eager to help, offers to tie the head back for me.  Well, he didn't get it as tight as I'd have done if doing it myself but not wanting to redo it and hurt his pride, I decided to go with it.  This didn't work so well as it gave the cow extra room to throw her head around and try to hit me.  As a result I had to reset my needle several times to keep it in the vein.
    As I'm almost done the gentleman asks me how long it usually takes for this to work.  So I said "Usually, I'll run the Calcium to the cow, take the IV bell back to my truck and clean it up, then by the time I get back she'll get up for us."  So we finished with the Calcium, I went back to the truck cleaned up things, and put my supplies away.  When I got back to the cow, lo and behold I was wrong she wouldn't get up.  The farmer again asks me about the rare condition he'd originally thought was the problem.  I again assure him I don't think that's the problem, and that I think this cow has milk fever.
     I then postulate that with her throwing her head around and my having to reset the needle several times that perhaps we hadn't gotten as much Calcium into her blood stream as I'd hoped to, and that with another partial bottle of Calcium we'll be able to get her up.  So I go back to the truck get more Calcium, and my halter and return to the cow.  I put the halter back on her head, and now attempt to roll her to the other side so I can use the fresh jugular vein on the other side of her neck.  She fights this attempt and prefers to lay where she's at.  So I try slapping her in the ribs in an attempt to get her to raise partially up, so that we can then push her on her other side with her supporting part of her weight instead of us fighting her full body weight.  This time though she doesn't get partially up, she stands up like I thought she'd do the first time.  Only now she's tired of us messing with her, and is upset with the two of us.   After a few minutes of thought on how to get my halter off of her, and with her offering to charge us several times.  We decide that she can keep the halter for a little while until she calms down enough to run her into a chute later and retrieve it with less risk of injury to ourselves.
     So despite my second thoughts about my original diagnosis, and my losing my halter in the process we were able to get the cow to her feet again.  And despite the fun it would have been to see a Zebra, the hoof beats once again turned out to be from a horse named Milk fever.

The broken dishwasher.

     Recently my partner's wife had back surgery.  There have been a few complications with it that have required her to spend more time in the hospital than anticipated.  As a result I've been taking more of the calls that come in to our practice lately.
     Yesterday at about noon, my partner called me with a whole long list of calls, and wondered if I could take them.  The reason he needed me to take them:  he said his dishwasher was broken, and he was waiting for the repairman to show up.
     Once he said his dishwasher was broken I couldn't help myself, and blurted out "Your dishwasher is still broken?  I thought your wife was supposed to come home from the hospital today."

Don't have time for that.

     This afternoon I was called by a gentleman I'd never met before.  He told me that he was watching the cows for one of my regular clients, and that one of the calves had this funny mass sticking out of it's backside.  It sounded like it was a rectal prolapse.
     I asked this gentleman if he had somewhere for us to catch the calf.  Keep in mind that the man that owns the calf of a regular client of mine, and I know full well that the answer to that question is a resounding "No!"  "Well" the man says "We have a pen we could put him in, but we don't really have anywhere to catch his head."  So I ask him if he can bring it to me in the clinic.  "I can try" he replies, "But it might be kind of hard to catch him, he's kind of wild." 
     I was just finishing up another appointment at this time, about 40 miles from my clinic.  So I told the man to try, and to let me know one way or the other if I needed to meet him at the clinic, or come out to their place.  This farm being only about another 5 minutes past the clinic.
     So I drive all the way to the clinic, and I still haven't heard from him.  I call him back "What's the verdict sir?  Can you get him to me, or do I need to come out."  "Well I got him in the pen" the man replied "But I still need to pull the trailer down there and see if I can get him in it."
     Another 10 or 15 minutes goes by and he calls back "Well I got him in the trailer but I have somewhere I need to be at 4:00, and I need to leave here by 3:30 to get there.  I don't think I've got time to bring him in and drop him off.  "Fine, I say I'll be right there."  Keep in mind it's only 3:00, and it's a five minute trip to the clinic from this farm.  So that's 10 minutes of driving, plus an extra 20 minutes to unload the calf, unhook his trailer, visit or do whatever else he wants to do.  But he doesn't think he has time.
     So I drive the five minutes to his place, and quickly discover the reason why he didn't have time to bring the calf to me.  He'd hooked the trailer to the back of an ancient John Deere tractor that probably has a max speed of 10 miles an hour.  The calf is now caught in the back of the trailer waiting for me to repair it's rectal prolapse.  This calf weighs about 500 pounds, and true to the man's earlier statement it's a little wild.  It's bouncing off the walls of the trailer, like a couple of fighters in a cage match. 
     So I rope the calf from the outside of the trailer, snug it up close to one corner.  Then crawl in behind it, while dodging the flying feet trying to kick me, and administer some sedative in the tail vein.  "What is it?"  The man asks  "I noticed it this morning when I was feeding them, and this afternoon when it hadn't gone away I thought maybe I should call you."  "So let me get this straight"  I think to myself "This calf has had this problem all day long, and now that you don't have time to bring it to me and my nice chute to catch him in, you're going to let me wrestle with this wild thing in the confines of this death trap."
     Well the sedatives kick in, and I'm able to replace the prolapse without getting myself killed.  By the time I'm done it's nearly 4:00 now.  The man is still there watching me, fascinated by what I've just done.  I politely say "Shouldn't you get going, I think you're going to be late for your appointment."  "Oh I'll be fine" the man says.  "It's not that important, I can probably miss it."  
     "Aarrrggghhhhh!"  Is what I want to scream, as I'm pulling my hair out.  At least I learned a valuable lesson, if I'm ever running late for an appointment, I now know that I probably shouldn't try to take my Tractor to get there.

My lucky day.

     I have always hated the dentist, at least for as long as I can remember I have.  One of the first dental visits I remember, I wedged myself under the seat of the car and hung on to the springs so that my mother couldn't get me into the dental office.  Incidentally that was also the day of one of my greatest triumphs.  The day I caught a rabbit with my bare hands at the clinic, only to have to let it go to go to the stupid dentist.  I don't know who screamed louder that day, the rabbit on being caught or me on finally being dragged out from under the car seat into the dental office.
     When I was older my parents made me get braces.  These were put on by an Orthodontist, which in my opinion was just a fancy word for Dentist, and I hated him just as much.  Another one of my proudest moments happened in the Orthodontists office.  The poor technician had to make a mold of my teeth before they could put the braces on.  They jammed this stuff into the roof of my mouth.  I tried to pantomime that it was running down the back of my throat, and that I needed to take it out.  They technician who worked for the evil Dentist wouldn't let me.  So I didn't feel bad when I threw up all over her.  I'd tried to warn her, but she wouldn't listen, I think she had it coming.
     Another time at the Orthodontists office, I was there for a tightening.  They took the rubber bands off, and left me alone in the room.  So I got up walked out, and said "Come on Mom, we're done." 
     When it came time to leave on a mission for my church they wanted me to get a dental exam first.  It was the Dentists opinion that I should get my wisdom teeth out before I left for my mission.  But he signed my papers saying I'd had the dental exam, and said "Set up an appointment to come back and get those taken out on your way out the door."  So I said "You got it Doc."  Then proceeded to walk right out the door without talking to anyone.  It's the lie I told so that they'd let me go on a mission, so I could teach people about the importance of following Jesus' example, by doing things like being honest.
     As you can see I really don't like Dentists, you might even call me an anti-dentite.  Sure you might say I was a rotten little brat, and you'd probably be right.  You might even say that my Parents should have given me a good whipping and blistered my behind, and you'd probably be right there too.  But it still wouldn't have changed the fact that I don't like the dentist.  So when I showed up for a Dental checkup yesterday, and the lady at the reception desk said "I'm sorry, but you're hygienist is sick today.  We've been trying to reach you all day to let you know.  We're so sorry but we're going to have to reschedule you."  Inside I was doing cartwheels, it must be my lucky day.
I think that was the kindest I've ever been to anyone at a Dental office.  The poor lady was all ready for me to be upset about having my time wasted by coming in when they couldn't see me.  I just smiled and said "Don't worry Ma'am it's quite alright."

Breaking, entering, and murder?

     One of the Vets I work with had a C-section late last night at the clinic.  They were just about finished, when the owner of the cow asked if they could send him home with a bottle of Penicillin to treat the cow with.  So Randy (the Vet working on the cow) sends the tech that's helping him out up front to the Pharmacy to grab a bottle of Penicillin for the owner.
     Keep in mind that the office sits in not the nicest part of town, so a few years back the owners of the building installed a security system in the Pharmacy.  When you enter you need to punch in a code to disarm the security system.  It was late and the tech was tired, so somehow he missed the beeping noises that remind you to disarm the system.  He just ran to the cooler, grabbed the Penicillin.  Ran back out the door, and left the system going off.
     Well, when this happens the security company tries calling the Pharmacy.  If you've accidentally set the alarm off you pick up the phone, and tell them the code and they shut it off.  If no one answers the phone (and there being no phone in the back where we do the surgeries of course no one heard the phone or answered it) they then call the senior partner in the office at home.  This is what they did.  They asked him if he would like them to send the police over to check on the building.  He of course didn't know what was occurring at the Clinic, and he said "Send them over please."
     The C-section being complete, the owner loads the cow on the trailer and heads for home.  The tech having everything cleaned up also heads for home.  Randy still had a few things to grab from his office though.  So he heads over there.  That's when he notices flashlights shining through the front windows.  Randy being a big fellow, and not scared of much heads up front to see what's going on.  He promptly opens the door and asks "Can I help you?!"
     The people that he confronted were the officers who'd been sent over to check on the building.  They take one look at Big R all covered in blood from having just finished the C-section, and being in a building where the security alarm has been set off suspiciously, and they instantly trade their flashlights for their guns.
"Sir step back and slowly raise your arms over your head."
     I mentioned that Randy is big and not scared of much, but having to guys pointing guns at you even if they are police officers is enough to do the trick.  Lucky for Randy he was already dirty and needed to go home shower, and wash his clothes.  It helped hide the mess that he made in his pants.

A perfect recipe for Plantar fasciitis.

     I ran my first marathon a couple of years.  It was an incredible experience that I really want to repeat.  Unfortunately, after the marathon I didn't take the recovery time I should have, upped my training and intensity level, and ended up with Plantar fasciitis, that has kept me sidelined for way longer than I anticipated it could.
     Well my feet have been feeling pretty good.  So a couple of months ago I'd decided I was going to try to get ready for a Half Marathon in my hometown on May 3rd.  I figured that if I started training for it then, I had plenty of time to slowly increase my mileage and would hopefully be able to finish it without my plantar fasciitis flaring up.
     First it got bitterly cold outside, to cold for me to want to run outside.  Then I managed to break the deck on my treadmill.  After ordering a new one, and installing it I then come down with a terrible cough my kids gave me, and couldn't hardly move without going into a terrible coughing fit.  This sidelined me for another couple weeks.  I was just getting over that when I tried to start running again.  I got a weeks worth of running in, before coming down with strep throat, that sidelined me again.
     By this point I figured what's the use, and gave up on running the Dino Half on May 3rd.  That's when out of the blue a buddy from High School sends me a link to the race, and says "Hey, let's run this together."  He's a really good friend, who lives a long way away, so what was I supposed to do.
     Of course I said "I'm in!", and immediately went to the website and signed up.  So now being the cheapskate that I am, there's no way I'm going to not run it after paying $53.50 for the privilege of running 13.1 miles. 
     So that now gives me 2 months to get ready for thing.  Considering I've basically done no running in several months, I'm afraid my Plantar Fasciitis might very well be in full swing by the time I'm done.  But what the heck, a chance to visit family, run in one of my favorite places, and see a good childhood buddy, it's totally worth it, right?
     So far I did 3.5 miles yesterday, and 4 and a quarter today.  Just another 9 to go. 

Mikey to the rescue.

     This morning I was assigned baby sitting duty for our two year old.  While in the mean time Stacie was going to take our two girls, and one of their friends to a private screening of some neat new animated movie made on HP computers.
     Well, not to far into our babysitting adventure I get a phone call from Stacie "Do you love me?" she says.  Apparently she has slid off the road and onto the median in an effort to avoid an accident that had occurred in front of her.  Then all I hear is screaming from all the little girls in the car, as another vehicle narrowly misses them.
     So I pack up the boy in my truck, scrape all the ice of the windows.  Put it in four wheel drive and head off to rescue the day.  I can tell that I'm getting close when I start hearing sirens, and seeing flashing lights, unfortunately with all the traffic backed up because of the accident on the icy road it still takes some time to get to my poor stranded girls.
     When I finally reach them, I ignore the police officer trying to wave people past, and pull off into the median in front of Stacie.  Then I back up to where I can attach a tow chain to pull Stacie out of the median.
That's when Stacie jumps out of her car, and tells me not to hook up the chain.  "I don't know if I'm stuck or not."  She says.  "I haven't tried to get out yet."
     "What?!"  If you haven't even tried to get out, then why did I bundle up our two year old, and brave the dangerous icy roads myself to come rescue her?  Well, I pull forward to give her room to try, and she drives right up on the road behind me without the slightest inclination of being stuck.  Apparently, she was scared to try to pull forward without help, in fear of getting stuck worse if she were indeed stuck.
     In the end I'm just grateful that all of my precious cargo in the vehicle were okay, with just a little bit of mental trauma to show for their morning.  Plus, I got to be the hero by coming to their rescue, without even having to do anything.  At least I was a hero, until I wrote this up and broadcast to the whole world that Stacie slid her car off the road this morning.  Now, I'm probably in the doghouse instead of being a hero.
     Unfortunately, they missed their private screening of the movie.  Looks like now I'll have to pay to take them to it when it's released in the theaters.  Of course that means Corey and I will get to go too.