Tuesday, April 19, 2011

It's just an expression!

I dedicate this entry to Red Curry.

Anal Glands.

Probably the grossest combination of two words anyone ever came up with. What's worse is that they actually are not glands. They are actually called anal SACS. Can you imagine maintaining professional composure when saying that in front of a client? I think the veterinarian who came up with the anatomical term "anal sacs" is probably giggling in his grave somewhere thinking how funny he is.

Anyways...anal glands are gross. But, gross as they are, they have to be expressed. When clients bring in their animals to have this done, they think "No big deal, just squeeze 'em out please!". So we put on our glove, lube up our finger, and dive on in.

However, imagine if WE as humans had to have this done. Thank the Good Lord for creating our rectums anal gland-free. How humiliating would it be to go every month to your family physician to have this little problem taken care of. "Just here to get my glands expressed Doctor. Nothing else. Feeling fine." Shudder.

So next time you take your pet to the vet to "JUST to get his glands expressed" think again, and have some treats ready for the car ride home for your poor pooch.

Restraining order

Many of you know that a big part of a vet tech's job is restraining patients. Sounds easy right?

Wrong.

Case #1
One week before my wedding. Enter client with Yappy Doodle Dandy, a happy little beagle in for a simple toe nail trim. Dr. Blondie needs some help so I come to her rescue.  In a matter of seconds as I arrive into the room, Yappy has peed on the floor, wiggled out of his leash, and inhaled the treats Dr. Blondie gave him as a bribe to be a good boy. As he yacks said treats on the floor in slobbery mess, Mrs. Doodle Dandy decides it would be "best for her to wait in the lobby." Wuss. I pick up Yappy and Dr. B commences the trim. With every "snip" of the clippers, Yappy howls, rolls around in my arms, paddles his arms faster than Michael Phelps, and then hacks and coughs. This is not unusual behavior for most dogs, however, Yappy is feeling extra spunky today. He must've heard from Captain Claws the cat in the waiting room that my wedding is coming up. Now, Captain Claws and many like himself have already done a number on my arms and hands, making it impossible to have decent looking skin for my wedding. I'm over it, it's fine. At least I have my teeth...so I thought.  On the very last paw, on the very last nail, Yappy decided enough is ENOUGH! With every bit of strength in his 35 pound body he throws his head back into my chin. CRACK! Instantly tears come to my eyes and I realize that my upper right incisor feels abnormally loose. No no no no no. I can NOT look like a hilbilly at my wedding. Dr. Blondie gives me a hug to try to stop my blubbering tears, while Yappy just smiles between us. Jerk. I wipe off the snot from my face and I start praying to heaven that my tooth can be saved. Dr. Brain is already scurrying off to call the local dentist (also a guest to the wedding) to see if she can fix my tooth in return for the silverware she got us as a wedding gift.  However, all is well, the tooth is just loose and it tightens up in time for the wedding. You can bet that next time I see Yappy, I'll make sure it's also time for his anal glands to be expressed. Take that!

Case #2:
Enter cute little old couple with bedraggled sick cat who is older than the pyramids.  His skin tents about as high as the pyramids too since he's so dehyrated. The clients explain to you that their sweet old kitty has been so listless and lethargic and that he hasn't moved in days. So now you're thinking "aw, poor sick kitty. I bet it just laid there comatose as you treated it." Of course not! Kitty not only managed to scratch both my arms and the doctor's, but he also managed to have the energy to chew out his catheter, and spray the entire hospital with his evil smell.  Now everytime you walk by his cage "HISS!" and then "WHAP WHAP WHAP!" his little scrawny "listless" arms come out and smack you every time. Of course, the doctor wants to try something different with him every 5 minuts, so it's my job to retrieve him from his evil lair.  I get the Big Blanket of Terror from the kennel workers and try out my ninja skills to catch kitty. I know I'm making myself look like those crazy guys that wrestle calves to the ground at rodeos (Ok, I'll be honest. I can only hope that I'm looking that cool). When I finally get kitty into the treatment room, I realize I am covered in cat pee, I have lost clumps of my hair, and that somehow my scrub pants and top have become inversed and inside out. As I regain some composure, the doctor pops his head in the door while texting on his fancy phone to let me know that "Oh, nevermind. You can put him back. I'll have you help me later. I'm busy."

Needless to say sick kitty was put to shame forever by MY hissing.

Case #3:
This is my favorite scenario because it happens a lot.
Enter macho man with mustache, muscles, leather jacket, and big black boots with his 100 pound mutt, Harley.  The vet calls you in to restrain Harley for a bit and the big ol guy says, "Oh, she won't be able to do that Doc." Usually the vet speaks up for us at this point and reassures the client that we are capable.  However, some clients just don't accept it. "She won't be strong enough Doc. Harley here is a big ol strong boy, ain't ya Harley?!"
Harley's dad decided HE is going to restrain Harley. Ha, I will gladly stand back and enjoy. He bends down to expose a large hairy buttcrack as he wraps his big hairy arms around Harley's torso. Harley easily wiggles out. Again, he wraps his arms around him, this time telling him "hold still!" Yep, that's gonna work. Harley wins again! This time Harley's pop takes a new approach. He picks Harley up in his arms and says "Hurry Doc, give him the shots!" as his face turns redder and redder (and a hernia forms). Harley turns and gives his dad a slobbery kiss of mockery and then...you guessed it...wiggles out of his dad's arms again.  This time his dad tumbles to the floor with him and it takes a couple of us to get him back on his feet. Needless to say, the vet is impatient and annoyed at this point. I am feeling good because this guy is about to be shown up. I'm called in to restrain Harley. I do my thing, and in a matter of seconds the shots are given and I shower Harley with treats for "being such a good boy and knocking down your daddy!" Tell me what I can and can not do! I dare you!

So, there you have it. Case in point!

Monday, April 18, 2011

It's a Girl!

My husband and I are getting a puppy. It's a girl German Shorthaired Pointer and we won't be getting her until late May.  Finding a name for our future children is a peice of cake for us to agree on. However, finding a name for our future puppy is close to impossible.

Names I like:
Furgie, Birdie, Finley, Dewie, and for some reason I'm trying to make the name of an Alaskan city work...so very Sarah Palin of me, I know!

Names he likes:
Gretchen, Sassy, and Zeus (all names of his past dogs...the last one isn't even a female name!)

So, since we can't agree, I am taking suggestions.

Which makes me think...I have so many great names for animals that I don't own. For example:
-Hagrid: For a very large, long haired black dog
-Marvin: a very sensible cat
-Raven - a slightly overweight black miniature poodle resembeling Raven Simone (Cosby Show and Disney's That's So Raven)
-Frito: a little playful orange kitty
-Bugsby: a little bugged eyed Boston Terrier or Pug
-Mooch: a big ol Great Dane that gives you sad eyes while you're eating
-Blair Waldorf: a very evil cat...with claws!
-Dingle: a male intact of any species
-And in honor (or should I say honour?) of the Royal Wedding, William & Kate: a pair of King Charles Cavaliers

I should get paid for this!

Anyways...we are offically taking suggestions for our new little baby!

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Sequins, Sparkles, and Shots...oh my!

A big part of my job is that of any  nurse...escort the client and their pet into the exam room and take a medical history. It was an ordinary day, and we had seen many clients already. We have some colorful folks that come to the animal hospital, but these clients made my day!  The men that greeted me were fabulous and flirty! Let's call them Stefan and Scott (after my favorite couple from "Best in Show"...if you haven't seen it and you love dogs, see it!).

Stefan was donned in some black jeans, sneakers, and a very fun vest (that he unfortunately covered up with his coat when he proclaimed "It's NIPPY in here!" lisp included).  Scott was quieter but had some interesting socks that were to my liking for sure! In they pranced, followed by two gorgeous black cocker spaniels wearing noneother but sequined bandanas. Sassy with a capital S! Their names...wait for it...."The Prince" and "Lady".

As I asked them the  normal questions "how have they been? any coughing? scratching? Are their ears rotting out yet like all other cocker spaniels? etc", they would give extensive answers. Stefan explained with very gestured hands, "These are my babies. Whatever is best I want NOW for my babies. Do you understand? They are my precious wittle babies and we wuv them!"

 When I broke the news that their "babies" were due for their shots, Stefan clapped his hands to his diamond studded ears and exclaimed "Mommy no likey!". He then explained that he is "mommy" and Scott is "daddy". Well, let me tell you, daddy didn't really seem to care that much. Our poster on the exam room wall titled "What your Cat Looks Like Inside" was making him whiter than his perfect frosty highlights in his mop do.

 Dr. Xerox took care of them and of course, she did it professionally and quickly. Lady and Prince both did fine for their shots as their "mommy" assured them everything was ok while rubbing their ears so hard I thought they were going to fall off. As they sashayed out the door I think we were all a little sad....until next year boys....

A first for everything!

This is my first post to my first blog, so here I go! I work at an animal hospital, and I encounter too many hilarious things to NOT share! I will be making up names as I go to protect the names of clients and my coworkers. Before I start any stories, introductions for the amazing (and I mean that they really are) staff that I work with.

The Vets:
Dr. Dad: Yes, I work for my dad. I am imaginig you are all making "the face". It's halfway between a grimace and pity. Save it. I LOVE working with my dad. Working for you dad/boss has it's downsides yes, but it also has many perks. Example: Having a dad as a vet means he will practice medicine on you, take radiographs of you, or lance of warts you contracted from the nasty YMCA pool in town.

Dr. Boss: He's our other boss. He's a no mess, no fuss, impatient, but efficient, Let's-hurry-this-up-I-need-to-work-on-my-garden kind of guy. He is also very tall, very dry humored, and can be surprisingly funny at the most random times. He's a total foodie, yet he's skinny as a rail. Another thing...he loves kids. Kids love him too which ends up cute.

Dr. Brain: Dr. Xerox: Female doctor who I get the pleasure of assisting surgery in. I am more than confident that she has a photographic memory. Be it her children's social security numbers, phone numbers, the entire list of presidents, your pet's entire healthy history including the amount of times she's expressed it's anal glands...she remembers it all. Low maintenance, quick witted, and very fun to work with.

Dr. Blondie: No blonde jokes please. She went through 8 years of school and is a veterinarian (the stories are true that its harder to get into vet school than med school) so she's no dim wit! Dr. Blondie is as sweet as her giggle. She literally giggles her way through life. It totally works for her, and it's a big reason why we love her.

Dr. Chatty Cathy...no Dr. Fish...Dr. Donut...Dr. Shape-ups...nope...Dr. Pokey:  Dr. Pokey is a male veterinarian who's claim to fame is that amount of time he talks to his clients. This can be something we find funny some days, and entirely frusterating another, but we love him all the same. He also is in charge of the salt water fish tank (failing miserabley, the puffer fish died...again). He throws temper tantrums better than his 2 year old if we have bagels instead of Dirty Dan's Donuts on Saturday mornings, and he is the only male I have ever seen wear Shape-Ups. Annnnd he takes FOREVVVERRRR in each room. Anyone who has ever shown cattle can understand what I mean when I say a cattle prod may not even get this man moving.

Dr. Cheeto: I only give him this name because of my favorite quote from him, but more on that later. Dr. Cheeto is our "part time patty" because one animal hospital isn't enough, he works at two. If he's not running around in the pharmacy, he's running triathalons and marathons and making the rest of us feel like chubs as we dig into yet another delicious snack made by Dr. Brain or chocolate that Dr. Boss dumps into our candy drawer.

Vet Techs:

Momma: I realize this name makes her sound like a large woman with an apron and wooden spoon in hand ready to whip you up a batch of shrimp gumbo. She's not. She's a very attractive young lady and proud Purdue grad!  I call her Momma because whenever I need something I go to her. I think back of how I used to have to wake up my mom at night to go to the bathroom (or else the toilet monster would get me, duh) and say "Mommy." (tap tap) "Mommy?" (tap tap tap) "MOMMY!". So...I imagine that's how Momma sees me most of the time. She's our OTJ trained Jane, but she knows more than I can only hope to learn.She will willingly admit that she is OCD, but she keeps the place ship shape!

Red Curry: Naming her after her favorite lunchtime treat, this RVT is a bookworm smarty pants. Red Curry's biggest frusteration of the medical world is that they don't make scrub pants long enough for her tall-ness. One time I actually stood on a stool to see what it was like to be her height. Pure bliss. I could finally reach and see the labels on the drugs on the top shelf. Red Curry is my Thursday lunch buddy and also gives really good hugs when you need them.

Me, or as I will fondly call myself, Hobbit: I am not a hobbit. I do not have hairy feet. I am merely short. This causes a lot of problems for me. Example: Unlike Red Curry, I can not reach the drugs on the top shelf. In order to do so I must use the lint roller to retrieve items. I simply throw the thing up there and pray the right bottle is sticking to the tape when it comes down. I am the newest member to the staff (not really, I worked in the kennels since I was 14 scooping poop) and trying out my bambi legs in the world as a veterinary technician!

I hope you enjoy my blog! :) Till next time...wipe your paws!