Wagon Wheel

There's a sign on the way to J&J, a sign for the Oregon Scenic Route. It bears a picture of a wagon wheel detached from a wagon, leaning up against something.
To me, at least initially, it's a quaint picture of some old fashioned item. It reminds me of the Oregon Trail and a time when life was slower; it arouses calm thoughts and nothing stressful.

But what did a detached wagon wheel mean to the 1850's Oregon Trailers?
Maybe it engendered hope, if the wheel was a spare to replace a busted counterpart. More likely, it suggested despair, if the observer had previous experience with broken down wagons and littered parts. Maybe it was to them like hub caps and torn up tire tread are to us.
Chances are, they didn't think detached wagon wheels were scenic at all.

Silver Kilts

Saturday night I played Dutch Blitz with some Hopewell youths.

Sunday I took J&L G to sing at an Alzheimer's home with some other church people. On the way to their place, we got to talking about the public vs personal nonresistance issue, and they invited me in to see what some others thought. And then I stayed so long that EG set my place at the table and I stayed for lunch (no one was at my home, anyway). The G's have a grand sense of humor and we get along nicely. We were talking about wedding colors (I don't remember why), and I declared that I wanted something unique. The color silver came up so I said something about how the men could wear silver plain coats (joking, of course). GG, however, misunderstood me to say "silver kilts." Now, that would be quite the thing! A Mennonite wedding with the men in kilts. I know I said "unique" would be good, but that's a little extreme.

***
Dad pulled in Sunday evening, driving my grandma's old Cadillac which she gave to him. The tranny in my Dad's 1984 Bronco II gave out last week; since the transmission would cost more to fix than the vehicle is worth, his California visit was very timely.
He bore home numerous antiques, including a couple "atrocity pictures"* of my ancestors. One of them was a Methodist minister from Bristol, New Hampshire -- my great-great-great-great-grandfather -- who had an Amish-style hair and beard cut. Dad also brought most of my grandma's dolls, an old rocker (from my great-great-grandmother) and a baby buggy. He jokingly suggested that we build an addition on our house to keep the stuff in -- we'd call it the Atrocity Room.

* "Atrocity pictures" = Dad's appellation for old photos of people. Because they stare unsmilingly and are now dead, he is not very keen on them. I don't mean to be disrespectful in my use of the term.

Murkiness

My mother and I spent Thanksgiving with E&E N (an elderly couple from church) and later the T families (also from church). Mom and the very musically minded ET played violin/viola duets while others of us tackled the dishes. 'Twas an enjoyable evening.
My brother was in Iowa (at the home of a couple Faith Builders students; incidentally, LT of the T family was also there) and my dad was in California visiting his mom.
***
Yesterday I must have left a larger part of my brain at home than usual.
All went well in my initial time abroad. I successfully travelled to the Woodburn Public Library to use the internet, and successfully travelled to the Portland Airport to bid adieu my friend CS (who is on her way to Indonesia). But the path I subsequently took to reach the G family in the middle of Portland... um, well, is perhaps indicative of a brain lesion. I had only received partial directions and was told to call the G's once they were followed. Sadly, I did not do the latter -- I was testing myself to see if the way would become apparent (maybe Portland is not the place to do that -- it's kinda hard to back-track when a street is missed). That might have worked, but it was a dark and stormy (mildly so, but anyway) night with less than ideal visibility, and fate (or perhaps Myself) was against me. Suffice to say that I ended up in Washington, did a couple U-ees, and independently found 16th sts/aves on both sides of the Willamette.
But I made it.

And then it so happened that on the spur of the moment I brought the G's daughter home for the night so she could come to the vet school today to mess around with Andy the Belgian horse.
So we had a humorous time last night and rose around 5:30 this morning to hit the road around 6 and drive to J&J. After work we drove Andy, who partially overcame his puddle-phobia to plow straight through one. (Because horses have poor depth perception, a puddle can look like an abyss.* They have to learn to trust their driver/rider to overcome the fear... I guess that's how it is with humans -- we have poor depth perception of the future, and may be hesitant to follow God. We have to learn to trust him, etc.)
The third time through the puddle Andy was not as eager, but eventually advanced into the puddle with his front feet. He pawed the water in frustration, but eventually gave in. This scenario (forgive the free association) happens to remind me of the time the priests stood in the Jordan River to cause the water to stop flowing. I'll stop there before I say something sacrilegious.

Shopping

I was working in the library on Saturday and JK (first-year vet student and attendee of the vet student Bible study) came in to study gross anatomy. She was giving me a bad time because I wasn't doing any obvious work (the job contains a lot of down time normally, but I guess I could have been dusting shelves or watching the exit door like a hawk), and I offered to quiz her on gross anatomy. She didn't take me up on it, but a while later informed me that I could go do her grocery shopping for her. Fine by me, except that I couldn't go 'til 5 pm and I wouldn't know what to buy. I told her I could go with her and help her shop... and she took me up on the offer. I don't know if she thought I was dead bored and took pity on me, or if she really thought I would be of help, or if she just thought it would be fun... Anyway, she told me she'd be back [some time after 5] and went off to pick up a fish. We climbed into her late-model hatch-back around 5:30 and drove off to the Philomath Safeway. She wrote a couple items on a paper. "Here," she said, mimicking some nanny with a child, "You can go look for these and depending on how you do I'll give you more to find." I went off to find Romaine lettuce and caesar croutons, and then trekked all across the store looking for her. Not a very efficient system, if you ask me. "Claire, go get me one of the free cookies at the end of the counter." - her next command.
At some point we walked by a display of red devil cake mix. "That looks like something from a latex-injected dog cadaver," was our general consensus. Hopefully we did not disturb any poor shoppers with our discussion...

Follow-Up #2

In response to Comments 2&3 from "Christian Political Party?":

I could vote in favor of a nonresistant (= no war, no capital punishment, no violence against criminals) government, but I don't think nonresistance is a viable philosophy on which to run a country. I don't think it would accomplish the job it is here to do. God showed us (by the Mosaic Law) the way earthly kingdoms should run -- they have to use force to protect, or they will be over-run by selfish people from either the inside or the outside. (A government that refused to use force against Hitler's men would not have accomplished much.) Romans 13 indicates that earthly governments are ordained by God and that they should bear the sword against those who do evil. A nonresistant government does not seem to be in God's plan for the world.

***
God ordained worldly governments to protect those who do good. If this protection is God-ordained, do I have reason to not take part in it? Am I a hypocrite to say that government should resist evil but that I as a Christian should not be a part of that resistive force? Am I spurning part of the truth of Romans 13?

As always, it is good to interpret a passage in light of the rest of the Bible. We don't have far to go from Romans 13 to accomplish that.
Whereas Romans 13:4b states: "for he [the ruler] is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil,"
Romans 12:19 states: "Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but [rather] give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance [is] mine; I will repay, saith the Lord."
Rulers of earthly kingdoms do and should avenge wrath. Christians should not avenge wrath. Killing may be delegated, but it will not be delegated to Christians.

***
So God has established an institution that requires the existence of non-Christians? Doesn't God want all men to be saved?
Think of a government as an inorganic shell with no souls of men attached. That government can be filled by men who freely choose to not be Christians, and God can use their unfortunate choice to keep the world in order. If they all become Christians, the inorganic government shell will become empty. If a government is still necessary, I suppose God could employ angels or something. God doesn't require the presence of non-Christians, but will use them if they exist.

Follow-Up #1

In response to Comment #1 on the post "Christian Political Party?"...

Anachronism, thank you for being the first to post a challenge to my writing. This blog would be a much more interesting place if there were more like you around...

Responding to your first comment, I believe God's people today have a different standard to follow than did the Israelites before the coming of Christ.

The Israelites were part of God's earthly kingdom, governed by the "Mosaic Law." They fought flesh and blood at God's command to protect their country from pagan influences -- pagan Gentiles were not their "neighbors," they were their enemies. They also killed disobedient Israelites to support God's law and demonstrate the vast importance of obedience, etc. It was "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" in their civil government.

And then Jesus came, turned the tables, and perfected the law. He established a kingdom in the hearts of men, such that we now "wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickness in high places." (Eph 6:12) He fulfilled the Mosaic law with a law of love: "For all the law is fulfilled in one word, [even] in this; Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." Gal 5:14 Who is my neighbor? Anyone. The law of charity spans across nationalities, religions, and heart conditions. What is love? Seeking another's good above my own.

Does loving your neighbor only apply to personal relationships? Could I as a Christian rightfully kill a person who harmed someone else? Jesus states in Matthew 5:38,39, "Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also." Jesus was quoting an Old Testament scripture, perhaps Exodus 21 which refers to a man punishing another man for hurting his wife, not himself:
21:23-25 - "And if any mischief follow, then thou shalt give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe."
Refusing to retaliate would seem to apply to personal and non-personal situations.

There will be more to follow... gotta go to class.

Stuff

I did a variety of stuff yesterday:
walked with CS in the morning.
did some research work (prepping bacteria for PCR reactions, running PCR reactions).
ate lunch with my research lab crew at Nearly Normals gonzo cuisine. I had some strange garbanzo bean/cucumber/tomato pita sandwich -- to which I added tobasco sauce to improve the flavor.
went to work at J&J.
played volleyball with the Brownsville youth group until the late hours of the night. They had a mature view of playing volleyball for fun -- they played well (they got a couple really good volleys going) but didn't get bent out of shape about scores.

Christian Political Party?

It is interesting how some Christians think the Republican party is "thee" party for Christians. Sure, Republicans tend to hold up better family values than Democrats, better day-to-day morals that are key to societal stabilization (IMO). However, Republicans generally fail to take large measures to protect the environment -- how is that being a good steward of the earth as God would have us be? And how can Christians say they love their fellow men and then elect someone who will be more supportive of war? "It is wrong for me to kill people because I am to love them as I love myself, I am to love them with the perfect, unselfish love of God. But it is right for the kingdoms of this world to fight to effect world order. So I'll vote for a war-going president." Sounds cognitively dissonant and hypocritical...
I don't think a Christian government would accomplish the general goals of worldly kingdoms; I think it unwise to vote against my own Christian values in support of Old Testament-style government-related values; therefore, I think it unwise to vote, period, on matters relating to law, order, and world politics.

One Small Step

Tuesday night blended into Wednesday morning, and I was still working on my ECG exam. I quit at 3:30 to hit the sack and still wasn't having trouble staying awake. It must have been the chocolate -- though milk chocolate (at 6 mg/oz) doesn't contain much caffeine compared to coffee (115 mg/5 oz), I am probably extra sensitive to caffeine since I rarely consume it.

I was pretty out of it in class yesterday and went home and to bed (for > 3 hours) after equine rounds in the afternoon.

In therio lab today we rectally palpated some culled dairy cows. Now, I know most of you might find that rather disgusting... and it's not like I particularly enjoy the lingering (even though I washed) smell of volatile fatty acids on my arm... and it's not like my arm isn't still sore. But palpation is interesting and enjoyably challenging -- you just have to give it a chance. Today I was "looking" for the cervix (which you can actually grab transrectally, believe it or not), uterine horns, and ovaries. I'm am nowhere near dairy practitioner speed at finding things and I wouldn't trust my ovary-palpation-based evaluation of the cow's reproductive status... but it's one small step (for a woman) and though I don't think it's a great leap for mankind it is a step in the right direction. (cit. Neil Armstrong)

Tonight I'm going to a Christian vet supper/Bible study.

Crazy Dog

I wanted to attend a Socratic Club debate yesterday evening (which my friend Casey discusses so well here)... but last Friday I RSVP'd about the Northwest Equine Practitioners Association Monday evening meeting, saying I'd attend. It would look bad to not go after saying I would -- or so I thought -- and I thought it might be a good chance to connect with some veterinarians -- and etc -- so I went.
It was a dinner meeting held in one of the conference rooms at the Wilsonville Holiday Inn. This fellow, Barry Ball, DVM from the vet school in Davis, CA came up to talk about breeding issues in older mares and stallions. It was neat how well the lecture complemented what I've been learning in theriogenology. There were a number of vets at the meeting whom I have spoken to (even two whom I shadowed during freshman spring quarter) or heard about -- interesting to finally see the legendary Ben Braat, whom our farrier likes to talk about.

***

Time moves quickly for me -- there's a lot going on these days -- but for some reason it seems longer than a week ago that I was monitoring the Old Dog with a New Trick.

I was the surgeon's assistant today, which is probably the least stressful role in surgery lab because the assistant is not responsible for anything in particular. However, the time was not without its excitement.
For starters, the dog was a very hyper black chow mix that kept lunging at dogs and people (I think it had friendly enough intentions... but it was still a spaz). Her name is Molly -- too calm and old fashioned a name for such a dog -- but then, maybe Molly from the American Girls books was sort of crazy. I don't precisely recall.
Anyway, I tried to restrain her head so the student anesthetist could premedicate her (with acepromazine? and morphine), and she tried to wiggle from my grasp. Knowing the chow reputation and not taking a fancy to being bitten, I was concerned with the freedom her head was taking. We put a muzzle on her (she tried to pull it off), I restrained her head, LO restrained her elsewhere and AS injected into the epaxial muscles. Just as she was finishing the injection, Molly jerked and the syringe came off the needle (which bent). It seemed like AS had injected most of the drugs so we waited to see if the dog would settle down. After a long time we put the dog on the operating table to set a catheter in its leg. She layed there until AS turned the clippers on and proceeded toward clipping the leg, and then she tried to scoot backwards to get away (most premedicated dogs just lay there). Dr. Mosley came over, we applied our joint forces to the dog... she was unmanageable and we gave her up to extra drugs. An injection of medetomidine (which should have really zonked her), more waiting, and Molly was sort of groggy but still willing to put up a fight (I joked that she must be a drug-user -- she seemed rather refractory to anesthetics. But maybe she had filled her receptors with neurotransmitters and there was little place for the drugs to bind. I know it works that way with medetomidine, but I don't think morphine is the same). This time Mosley took the head (I was only too happy to relinquish the position), I the back legs and AS got the catheter in. She induced Molly and hooked her up to inhalation anesthesia.
All went well... for 45 minutes.... and then the medetomidine wore off and Molly tried to get off the operating table. Thankfully the surgeon hadn't cut into her yet. I missed that part.

I've got to work on an electrocardiogram take home exam tonight (it's due tomorrow), so au revoir.

Vengeance is God's

I spent a few hours in the lab on Friday, figuring out what I needed to do and processing some bacterial cultures for protein gel electrophoresis. While there, my seventh-day adventist lab friend HC wondered if I had heard about Pat Robertson's statement and we got into a little conversation about it...
Basically, some pro-intelligent design school board members were not re-elected in the town of Dover, PA. Quoting from the previously-linked webpage:

"The board ordered schools to read students a short statement in biology classes informing them that the theory of evolution is not established fact and that gaps exist in it."

Because the town did not re-elect these board members, Robertson told the town that they should not be surprised if a disaster comes to their town; and that if it does they should not call on God "because he might not be there."

Now, I believe an intelligent being (God, = Jesus Christ) created the world, and I do not believe that nontheistic evolution is logical. Public schools should present both evolution and creation as optional theories of world formation.
However, Robertson's statements do not express much in the way of Christian love. "You guys won't consider the theistic viewpoint, so God is going to punish you. And if you turn to him, he will leave you to your misery because he doesn't love you anymore." How about leaving the vengeance up to God? And where did the grace go?

Wedding and Calf

Following my Friday research fun I rushed off to BP's wedding at Harrisburg Mennonite Church.

I neared the establishment and spied a group of young men loitering before the building. I pulled into the parking lot and one of them approached my car.

"Are you doing anything at the wedding?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "Just being late." He directed me around the building and another of the boys oversaw my parking like a technician at Oil Can Henry's.

I went inside and took a solitary seat by the nursery. The service had already begun and the seats were mostly filled. There were a few other Hopewellites in attendance, but the majority of attendees were from Harrisburg/Tangent.

The wedding colors were black, purple, pink and cream or yellow.

It was a fine wedding -- a good sermon about marriage, relatively short vows, nothing very abnormal. The post-vow prayer was said, and the couple turned around as one less flesh than when they entered the building. I awaited my turn to be ushered out, and went forth to bless the couple.
My gas light was performing its weekly blinking activity, so I got some gas before heading to the Lake Creek Mennonite School (which, incidentally, I drive by ten times/week but have not been inside since the 1993 June meetings). I parked in the playground grass and took myself to the inside of the building.
I was seated by a lady whom I learned to be MZ, wife of the Tangent MC bishop. I had previously spoken to her on the phone when I was searching for a place to stay while attending vet school; and her husband has preached at Hopewell, but I had forgotten/never known her looks. She was a delightful person to converse with about important topics. She informed me that they are thinking about starting a church in the Sacramento, CA area... which was welcome news to me since I have thought about working in California after vet school. Who knows where that will go, and I don't think it would work for me to join their church... but it would be a fellowship option.

The bride and groom and their attendants passed to the front of the room and ascended the stairs to the stage bearing the bridal table. Following a speech and some picture taking, each fellow aided his associated girl in sitting and went to stand behind his chair. When they were all lined up, they simultaneously took off their suit coats and hung them on the backs of their chairs.

I addition to MZ, I talked to LK, whose mother died this year; LB, whose sister lost five children two weeks ago; and JS, whose brother is married to LB's sister. It's hard (for me) to know what to say to people in such a situation. "Wow, that's hard" and a few other phrases are about all I came up with. But I reckon few words are better than many, unsuitable words...

LK has actually shown up on this blog before, as Arrival 1 of the Calf Pulling episode. I asked him about his cattle, and he related a fairly classic veterinary story. DON'T read this story if you're not up to hearing about an abdominal surgery.

He bought a new calf from his dad and the calf turned out to be more wild than he thought. They put the calf in a barn with glass windows, and the calf didn't take a fancy to the establishment. It jumped through the glass and partially eviscerated itself, so he called out draft horse club aquaintance/George Fox University graduate/vet school grad Jeff Brubaker. JB pulled out a piece of glass and sutured the cut -- and LB said the calf never missed a beat.

NEAT

Maybe it's a no-brainer why nervous, fidgety people tend to be thin... They move more and have tenser muscles (like unintentional isometrics) -- and maybe they're too antsy to spend much time eating. This article (from the American Journal of Physiology) indicates that a person can increase their energy expenditure 20-40% above normal by fidgeting. Now I have a good excuse for moving in my seat during lecture!
The article discusses various aspects of nonexercise activity thermogenesis (NEAT) and their collective role in weight control -- you might find it interesting.

I can just see it on a weight loss plan... "...30 minutes of aerobic exercise... 4 hours of foot tapping, 3 hours of leg bouncing, 1 hour of facial grimaces..."

So Relevant

This morning before I arose, J&O's four year old grandson TS (who spent the night across the hall from my room) treated me to a performance of "Eenie, meanie, meinie, moe..." Actually, I don't suppose it was intended for an audience but I was amused nonetheless.
"When I was young", we used "E, m, m, m..." to unbiasedly choose people for whatever. It worked fine, but it seems that an intelligent (and deceptive) child could determine ahead of time who would be chosen by knowing there are 16 "pointings" (if you know what I mean) per chant. If there were three people to choose among, the person chosen would always be the one the child starts with. I recall having inklings of that concept with regard to the chant sometimes tacked on to "E, m, m, m", but I don't think I ever used them to my advantage. Yeah, I know that's an incredibly important and relevant topic...

Midterms are out of the way (except for an ECG take home exam), so I will have more time to do research and study for finals. Winter and spring terms will probably be busier than this term, so it would behoove me to make good progress on my research now. I'll probably tackle it during winter break, too -- however, my brother's visit (to begin December 19) will take precedence.

Tomorrow is wedding # 5.

Old Dog, New Trick

Surgery lab again today, and I declare, it wasn't entirely my fault this time that I was the last student to leave. Our dog was old and took a long time to warm up and recover from the anesthetic... its metabolism may have been slow.
Our dog also exhibited some strange abdominal-looking breathing (as if it wasn't expanding its rib cage but rather expanding its abdomen to breathe) that garnered extra special attention from the two faculty anesthesiologists. Dr. Mosley said he'd never seen a dog breathe like that. All such variations from the normal are valuable learning experiences.

Tomorrow is our second theriogenology test, so I need to go home and rally my senses to study.

Aussie Weekend

I don't know what it is, but the last few days have carried an Australian theme. Australian surgeon, Australian friend who spent the night Saturday, and lunch time presentation about Australia. What's going on?

Anyway, Saturday evening I went down to the Woodburn Wal-Mart to meet my Australian friend B who works at the portrait studio. B is related to a number of people at my church, and she happens to be living in Oregon for a time.
She was still closing, so I wandered around the store for a while. I happen to be one of those hypocrites who does not like Wal-Mart in principle but who shops there because it is convenient and cheap. I browsed through the baby section, looking for something for my friend VT's baby which is due this month. I didn't buy anything.

B ordered a couple pizzas from Pizza Hut and I picked them up on the way to MS's house, where B lives. We ate there and went to my parents' place for the night. We had a good time looking at pictures of the summer camp she helped at and talking. I think we'll be doing more together in the future.

{Speaking of summer camps, Mennonites should have their own version of Girl Scouts -- a club where girls could learn together about helping in the community, wilderness survival, foreign lands, etc. There is probably even value in developing leadership skills.}

Today Dr. Blythe (my old neuroscience professor) presented a bunch of pictures of Australia at the International Veterinary Student Association meeting. I'd like to go there some day, though I don't think I'd want to live there permanently.

Too Many Details

Yesterday I did absolutely no homework.

My friend CS (who lives a hop, skip and jump from my Harrisburg house) called me in the morning as I lazed in my bed. She wanted me to go on a walk... so I made myself presentable and was at her place in short order. The weather was blustery and wet and cold, but I didn't mind all that much. We had a good time, as usual.

We are in a sort of three-person weight loss race, which is fantastic. Medical nerds that we are, we measured our blood pressures after the walk and decided to check our resting heart rates the following morning. In theory, the more we exercise the lower out resting HR's should be.

I did a little work-out at the OSU gym, and now my arms are sore.

I headed to my research building, and ran into my advisor who informed me of a birthday party for one of the lab members. I made my appearance at the occasion. Have you ever eaten pumpkin curry soup? They had some there and it was surprisingly palatable. Actually, curry might render cooked and squished spinach edible as well. I'm sort of a fan of the stuff.

---
If a human baby was housed in a box with no external stimuli, would he develop a sense of right and wrong? I think he would, in a way, although he probably wouldn't think to treat others in accordance with that sense. How would he get such a sense? Maybe from the absolute physical laws of the universe, maybe from pain sensation, maybe because God would speak to him. Maybe I'm way off... Any thoughts? By the way, this relates to a discussion that occurred at the party.
---

My lab is very diverse and the more interesting for it. We've got our political liberals, our middle-of-the-roaders, and our stauch conservatives. We've got our religiously staunch, our religiously neutral, and our religiously antagonistic. We have an Austrian, a Russian, a South African, and a bunch of Americans. Life wouldn't be nearly as interesting if everyone agreed with me...

I plated some bacteria, washed some test tubes, and left the lab.

I finished my senior year scheduling. I chose the following electives (though I don't know if I will get them all): Equine Lameness, Equine Dentistry, Camelid Medicine & Surgery, Sheep & Goat Medicine & Surgery, and Cattle Production Medicine.

I went out to do stuff with the draft horse (it's great to have a couple very enthusiastic freshmen in the club).

Colic Surgery

Continuing from above post...
On the way back into the large animal hospital, I noticed a couple vets, a student, and a tech working up a colic case. I decided to watch. We studied the equine acute abdomen in large animal medicine class this term, and it was neat to try to apply what I learned to a real life scenario.

They did the following tests on the horse:
ultrasound (of abdomen)
abdominocentesis
rectal palpation
blood work

They found tight intestinal bands and dilated small intestine (normal small intestine should not have anything in it) and the abdominocentesis was unremarkable. The primary doctor thought the horse might have a blockage at the pelvic flexure, but he didn't want to state that with certainty. The horse was quite painful -- it trembled and tried to go down in the stocks as I was standing at its head.
They decided to take it to surgery, and I wanted to watch, so I did.

It was probably some time between 6 and 7 when they anesthetized the horse. They weren't done until ~10 pm.

The surgeon was a middle-aged fellow from Australia with a slight accent. He is new to the clinic (filling in for six months) and I had not met him before. I found him to be quite amenable to question-asking, which was glorious. He was also curious about my denomination. He wondered if I was the first Mennonite going through the program (which actually isn't the case) and remarked that I must be at the dangerous period of my life. Yaks! He was referring to the Amish rumspringa tradition, which I assurred him I do not agree with. (Being confused with Amish can be less than desirable... but I guess it shouldn't take long for people to figure out that I should not be lumped with the rumspringa youths.)

The surgery:
He made a 1-2 foot ventral midline incision (along the linea alba) and start fishing around among the intestines. He'd pull out a section, and put it back inside, pull out a section, and put it back inside. He didn't find any devitalized bowel (which wasn't a surprise as the abdominocentesis sample had been relatively normal) or a displacement of the colon.
He eventually found a lesion (in the mucosa of the pelvic flexure) unlike anything he'd ever seen (and this guy wasn't a young doc just out of vet school -- he's been around for a while). The lesion was somewhat lobulated, doughy/soft, and red. I got all excited - there's something about assessing an animal, getting an idea for what could be wrong with it, and then finding out for sure. (You don't have to agree with me.)
The main surgeon placed Doyan's clamps on one side of the lesion, severed the lesion from the rest of the intestine on that side, and did a Parker-Kerr oversew over the doyan. That suture pattern effectively closed that end of the intestine.
He did the same thing to the other side, handing the lesion-containing section to me once it was completely separated from the horse.
Having completed the Parker-Kerr on that side, he had two closed-off bowel ends and I was wondering if he knew what he was doing. Clearly, the intestines would serve little use to the horse if he left it like that. Well, as it turned out he did a side-to-side anastomosis. Because the bowel ends he wanted to stitch together weren't equally sized, an end-to-end anastomosis would not have been ideal.

He closed the linea alba (the size comparison to that of a cat, which I operated on last Tuesday, was amazing) and allowed the clinical fellow to complete the closure. I was sort of disappointed how little the senior student got to do... maybe I will have to be particularly forthright next year to make sure I get the experience I stand in need of.

Tonight I'm going to visit with an Australian Strubhar relation. I wonder how much of an accent I'll don while I'm with her... I am very prone to accent assimilation.

Today

Today we ultrasounded some sheep at the OSU sheep center. I got to do one that was pregnant! Very neat.
Ultrasound is one of those things that is complete Greek to the uninitiated (at least for me) and every bit of experience helps.

Perspective

My life has been put into perspective a number of times this fall. It happened again this morning when I found out about Jeff and Carolyn Shrock -- their five children died in a car accident yesterday and Jeff is critically injured.

What's a surgery test compared to five dead children? I feel ashamed to make the comparison.

Pray for the family.

Thumb's Up -- But is it Genuine?

I went in for a thumb check-up on Monday and was seen by a middle/older-aged doctor who reminded me of my (half first) cousin (twice removed) DT*. He didn't know me from Eve (aside from my cotton/poly apparel), but was friendly and exuberant during much of the extremely short visit. He was probably genuine to a large degree (there's my optimistic viewpoint)... but sometimes I wonder who is sincere and who is put on; which invitations are spontaneous; which niceties are heartfelt; etc.

I wonder about their true thoughts toward me, but I'm not saying it's a bad thing for them to leave me in the dark. I might want to know what they think, but it might not be the Christian thing for them to tell me. If they have good advice about how I can be a better Christian, vet student, or lady, they should tell me. But if they think that vet med is a disgusting and smelly profession and disdain me for pursuing it... they should probably be slow to speak and work at modifying their uncharitable view**.

And I'll just keep on wondering...



* If you're not a born-in Mennonite with hundreds of cousins, such relations are actually significant.
** So you know, I'm not referring to a certain person here.

Still Alive After All These Years

I have my senior year schedule sort of figured out -- the problem is, it might be changed by the dean's office. Maybe God will use some such changes to work his will in my life...

I got my first rabies vaccination today and am still alive (yippee!). Apparently I am not allergic to purified chick embryo protein (one of the potential allergens in the vaccine).

Usually I breathe deeply to keep from keeling over in syncope while receiving vaccinations -- and it always works. Apparently the nurse did not appreciate my modified breathing (maybe I was hyperventilating or something) and told me to breathe normally. Oh, well.

Dustiness

I'm terribly slow sometimes -- slow taking Monday's test (with potentially drastic consequences), slow doing an ovariohysterectomy today on a humane society cat, slow writing my surgery report. Why, oh why?
Maybe it is an intrinsic trait -- I am Claire and I am slow.
Maybe it is a learned trait -- I feel I have the time, so I take it. Or, I think speediness may effect errors.
The problem with the latter philosophy, at least for Monday's test, is that slowness resulted in failure with no chance at doing well. If I had been speedy and finished the test, I might have (by chance or otherwise) done okay.

The picture is disheartening... but it presents a challenge to increase my performance velocity while maintaining proper accuracy. Life without challenges wouldn't be nearly as interesting... so there's part of the silver lining.
Another part? Failure reminds me that I am dustily human.

***
As an aside, trying too hard is sometimes a bad thing -- at least when you don't know exactly what you should be aiming for. You can pull out a suture stitch, thinking it was too large, and make smaller stitches only to discover the final knot won't bury because the stitches are too close together. (Or make an application to your own vocation.)

Quoting (paraphrasing?) Dr. Baltzer: "Better is the enemy of good enough."

***
Tonight I might pop in on my calf-chasing friends -- I don't have their phone number and apparently they don't mind impromptu visits. I guess I'll find out.