Donkeys, Belts, and Leathermans

Monday I castrated two donkeys. Dr Sepulvado is a retired (?) vet who has come by before to welcome me to the community and encourage me to join the Rod and Gun club or fly airplanes (both of which would be fun). Anyway, Monday he brought these donkeys in so I could practice on them. It was sort of a dreadful occasion because I forgot to review the castration technique (and my foggy brain with only a few hours' sleep was stuck on dog castration technique which is a bit different). I ended up tearing the main testicular blood supply on two of the donkey testicles (hope this page isn't blocked now) and they were bleeding "like a stuck pig" and there was lots of red stuff on the floor. But I guess they survived, even though I made a fool of myself.

I became the proud and grateful owner of a Leatherman that day. Dr. Sepulvado pulled his out to tighten a piece down on the emasculator, and made some comment that he supposed I had one or at least should have one, and I stated that I was not cool yet and didn't have one, and he up and gave me his! So now I am cool and have a Leatherman, a bona fide Leatherman. :) I've not sure how to carry it, though. Not real keen on the belt idea, but my friend JG in Paraguay offered (jokingly?) to get my a leather Paraguayan belt. Might be a possibility.

California Crazy

I had one of those infamous three day weekends that are expected to follow a weekend on call. It was a crazy weekend, and perhaps normal as well, if crazy is normal, which it sometimes seems to be.

I was on call Thursday night the 6th of September, got one call in the early evening. It was a steer tied to a tractor, which (the steer, not the tractor) threw me around a bit as I passed a tube down its throat. I stopped by the clinic Friday morn to wrap up some loose ends, and was on the road, heading south, by 10 am as planned. I rarely meet my deadlines -- I only met this one because it was a modified deadline, an hour later than the original 9 am start time. He he.


I drove south. The weather was scrumptuous, sunny "blue skies, smilin' on me, nothin' but blue skies, do I see". (By no means should you read more into that quote than meets the eye. There is no implication of romance, I promise.) I was worried about the case I saw the night before, but left a message at the number I thought was the right number, and felt better. It turned out later that the number was no longer correct for the owner of the steer, and I still haven't been able to get a hold of her.

I crossed the California border by car for the first time in over 3 years, marvelled in the grandeur of Mt. Shasta (didn't see any Lemurians -- maybe I wasn't close enough to the mountain), and quickly traversed the earth and entered the sprawling metropolis of Redding, CA. I was only going to stop there to buy food at some unsuspecting store. I pulled off at Cypress Ave, thinking there was a K-mart near-by that we had stopped at a few years ago when I attempted wake-boarding with my cousin Kevin on Whiskeytown Reservoir. (And here I continue with a partially-modified version of my e-mail to Miss JG.) I thought said K-mart was on the east side of the freeway, but the west side looked promising so I went that way.

As I travelled along (not on the Jericho road, and my world didn't seem all wrong, nor super heavy my load since I was on vacation -- were those lyrics really written by Elvis Presley?), I thunk that I would possibly be able to find the civic center, where my Uncle Dave works as an engineering/city planner guy. Now, I knew the civic center was on the west side of the river, but I didn't remember exactly where. I drove along, and saw a suspicious looking roof ahead to my left. And lo and behold, it was the civic center. Heart pounding, and not knowing for certain sure if my uncle still worked there, I approached the building with its fancy fountains and opulent structure. I was standing in the foyer pondering how to go about finding my uncle in the very large building, when this young guy walked by and I told him I thought my uncle worked there or at least used to work there. "When's the last time you talked to your uncle?" said he, amused that I didn't know for sure where he worked. Truth be told, I couldn't remember when I last talked to him! Maybe it was at my other uncle's wedding a year ago. Hmm -- too long, really. The young guy thought "Dave Marundee" sounded familiar, and he directed me to an office close on the foyer -- to which I went and at which I requested to see my uncle who very shortly appeared. Great to see him and we had a grand time talking.

Needless to say (especially since you didn't even know I was going there) I didn't make it to my grandma's retirement community in time to eat supper with her and my Uncle Mike/Aunt Kathy. But I got to chat with Grandma and then go out to eat with my uncle and aunt at an interesting Chinese place with a goldfish pond inside. This thing of meeting with my uncles and aunts by myself, no other family around, is a different but very positive thing. It gives me a chance to actually get to know them unlike other family get togethers when other people dominate the discussion. I had a great time with Mike and Kathy.

I stayed in my grandma's condo which she no longer inhabits. Another weird thing... staying in my grandma's condo without her there, sleeping in her old bed, raiding her fridge. (Including late-night enjoyment of old ice cream (some fancy chocolate ice cream cone variety) with the 3/4 inch layer of frost sprouting out of it which I partook of Friday night. It was partially eaten and had probably been open at least since May.) Sunday I took my grandma on a drive toward Stinson Beach, singing along with a couple musicals on the way. We also wandered around in Michael's (craft store) to look for pink ribbon for the sweater I was crochetting for my new cousin Natalee. I had never taken my grandma anywhere before -- it's an interesting flip-flop of roles. We had a good time.
Saturday night my Uncle Mike and I had a grand time cleaning out the condo kitchen, joking in Varney fashion, etc.
Sunday I went to see my Uncle Paul and Aunt Amy in Watsonville. This was a very crazy thing to do, you see, because I had to be back to work on Monday and Watsonville is even farther from Oregon than San Rafael. And it was 1:40 pm before I even left San Rafael. But I really wanted to see my cousin (I keep wanting to call her my niece -- she's 23 years younger than I and therefore feels like she should be a niece and not a cousin.) and I'd only seen my Aunt Amy at her wedding. My cousin turns out to be a rather jolly child with a great giggle, good temperament, and intelligent ability to focus.
I drove back home Sunday night, arriving Monday morning around 3:15 am. I had numerous occasions when my car ventured into lanes it was not primarily travelling in, and when my brain was really not very present. But all was well that ended well.

Time Shaving, Prickly Business

I shaved 20 minutes off my fasted cat spay time -- I'm down to a record of ~23 minutes now. The weird thing is, I'm not conscious of doing anything materially different than before. Sure, the three spays I did today were straightforward without any strange anomalies (like the cat uterus that had one "normal" horn without any attachment to the other horn, which was fluid-filled and not patent caudally), but still they were faster than before and I don't know why. Maybe I'm less stressed, familiar with the suture material, better rested, who knows.

Porcupines are alive and well in Oregon. I used to think porcupines were an east coast phenomenon, thought they didn't live around here. I've still never seen one in the wild, but today I again saw the proof that they roam our woods. A dog came in, having fought a battle and presumably lost. It looked bad, yeah, quills sticking out of the muzzle, the skin a veritable pin cushion. But it wasn't until I gave an IV tranquilizer and saw the inside of the mouth that I knew the extent of the damage. There were numerous quills stuck in the palate, making the mouth a forest of upside down quill trees. Thankfully, there were no quills around the larynx, no evidence of any in the cranial trachea. The extraction process went quickly. There's nothing quite like the satisfaction to be gained from pulling quills, especially the really deep ones when you still get the whole thing out.

Rat Bait, Bated Breath

Today I got to manage my first case of rat bait consumption in a dog. Thankfully, the intelligent owner brought the dog in as soon as it happened and brought the bait box with him. The dog had basically scarfed the entire block of bait, but she was happier than a lark, wagging her tail, little aware of the impending doom which would befall were she not treated by the young vet.
Most important goal: get the dog to vomit. This was approached first with oral hydrogen peroxide (it works sometimes, but didn't do the trick this time) and supplanted by the good ole' apomorphine under the eyelid trick. Apomorphine is way better than sliced, buttered or white bread, and works wonders. The dog had soon emptied itself of the major part of the bait, which was garnished by a couple canteloupe seeds. I washed the rest of the apomorphine out of the eye and advised the owner to apply some eye ointment. The dog also received a fancy dose of vitamin K and a drench with activated charcoal. We created charcoal artwork on the floor, on my dress, on the already black dog -- and I expect the dog graced her owner's vehicle with some soft brush strokes from her chin. A black dog leaving black marks on stuff -- like black shoe scuffs on the floor. Vitamin K1 capsules to go, and we were done for the day.

Yesterday I did a number on the cord which goes to Dr H's vet truck. I was backing out of the carport when I heard noises and wondered what was going on. Turns out the plug-in tore off the cord and remained sticking in the truck outlet.
I spent significant time last night trying to find an identical plug-in, to no avail. They had all sorts of other special cords -- air conditioner cords, lawn cords, heavy appliance cords, really weird cords, but not the one I needed. And the vet truck needs to be plugged in to keep the vaccines and medicines safe. I stowed the truck fridge contents in the clinic fridge and addressed the issue again today. We ended up buying a female plug part from an electrical stuff store, and my trusting technician S wired it on the the end of an electical cord. I was looking forward to doing it, but was also rather busy and would probably have shorted the wires onto each other and fried the unit. Now I am proud owner of a fancy wire stripping doohickey. I think I will make it the center piece of my table at home.

Never Dying List

This summer has been very unique, and I have written next to nothing about it.
I keep adding on to my list of things to write about it, and I don't think I'm even fooling myself that they will all ever be written of.

What was that last list?
1. Idaho trip, including interactions with Payette Mennonites, Caine Center experiences, Boise experiences; including some pictures.
2. The type of day I liked (in my veterinary training).
3. My trip to Texas, including strange and unusual occurences. Including pictures.
4. More information about my job search and the final result.
5. My final days as a veterinary student and the big graduation shibang.
6. The soon-to-arrive Mongolia trip.
7. Plans for the future.
8. Evolution, Intelligent Design (ID) Theory, Creationism

I am taking # 4 off the list, and the soon-to-arrive Mongolia trip has been past almost a month by now.

I am adding to the list:
9. Discussion of aspects of a book I recently read, and another I read last spring.
10. Vignettes of my life as a mixed animal practitioner such as interesting cases and interesting people (where appropriate).