Hours of boredom…seconds of terror.

For years now (eons it seems) I have been asked one question within three minutes of meeting anyone new, or conversing with an old friend.  And the answer has always been “forever…years.”  There was the longer explanation two years ago that involved me explaining how I lost half a year when transferring from the lush tropics of Grenada.  But now…the answer has changed.  And there is no deep sigh prior to the answer…there is instead a radiant smile and the word MONTHS.  That’s right, I’ll be a doctor, full fledged, in 10 months.   Can you believe it?
I am now scurrying around within the white halls of the hospital, a peon in a long line of doctors, caring for the broken, the maimed, and the innocent. So here’s the adventure so far.
Rotation #1:  Clinical Pathology.  This was a delight.  9 am start times and I strolled out around 4 pm.  Hour lunch breaks and group discussions about blood cells and alk phos levels kept my attention for a week.  It was a very gentle introduction to the madness of 4th year.
I then had one week off, which was heart breakingly chaotic.  Inca and I made a mad dash for Montana, where I left her in the capable hands of parents and sister.  She is staying there for the foreseeable future.  My home is old, and certain creaks sound like dog stretches and sighs, and I have more than once opened my mouth to call for her…and then I remember.  I skyped with Molly yesterday and saw Inca frolicking over the acres of grass in pursuit of songbirds and bugs.  She is happy. 
Rotation #2  From Montana I drove to Southern Oregon and Wildlife Safari (2000 miles later).  This was an elective on a drive thru wildlife preserve.  It was a fantastic, two week experience.  Here I performed my first mass removal; a melanoma on a Fallow deer (a lovely dappled creature found throughout western Eurasia).  I had a painting made by an elephant, intubated a cheetah (placed a tube down her trachea), placed IV catheters in elk and trimmed toenails on over a 100 parrots.  It was wonderful. 

Rotation #3 From southern Oregon, I drove home to Albany and began the craziness that is Small Animal Surgery.  This rotation was four weeks long, two weeks of orthopedics and two weeks of soft tissue.  The surgeries performed at the school are very advanced, and I was only able to assist, which ranged from helping run electrocautery, to simply holding intestines out of the way.  It was educational and draining.  I lost 10 lbs, which put an end to my short lived running career, and thankfully my expanding waist line. I ate lunch around 6 pm each night.  My day began around 6:30 am and I was lucky to leave by 7:30 pm.  After surgery I had a lovely week off with my family who made the trek over from Montana (my beloved fuzz ball in tow).  Their visit ended too soon, leaving me with a clean home and a fully stocked freezer.  My next chance to see Inca will be after Christmas.  Until then I will miss her.


Rotation #4  I am now battling my way through Anesthesia.  I have two weeks left.  Although I’m learning tons, I am thrilled for this rotation to come to an end.  Hours of boredom, seconds of terror (or if I’m unlucky…hours of terror) encompasses every day.  Many of the drugs we use are used with people.  Anesthesia is the one service that anthropomorphism is encouraged.  We can only imagine what the animals feel as they are anesthetized, and we can not ask them to count to 10.  Some drugs cause hallucinations, others make you feel loving and well…frisky.  From what I’ve seen, I think animals follow similar thought processes as people.  Propofol (MJ’s drug of choice) is what most people are induced with, and our drug of choice for small animals as well.  I had propofol when I got my tonsils out, and I can tell you that sleep is quick and peaceful with propofol…I think the animals enjoy it too.  Then there are the drugs that causes hallucinations.  Cats especially will look at you, and you’ll watch their pupils dilate as they scoot back into a corner of their kennel and I just know we’ve suddenly grown horns, or morphed into a Rottweiler in their eyes.   We also do full general anesthesia on horses…which is nerve wracking to say the least, and involves a large team of people and hydraulic machines.  Horses also wake up rather stupid.  Unlike most dogs and cats who will whimper, and you can soothe them into a laying quietly, horses wake up with a jump (and in very unfortunate circumstances, a broken leg).  They tumble and roll, and fling themselves around within a padded stall.  Obviously no one can be in there with them. 

So far, my patients have done well, although they’ve done everything from becoming horribly hypotensive (low blood pressure), to trying to wake up in the middle of spinal surgery.  But I’m learning to deal with it.  And time continues to fly by.  Soon I’ll be saying 9 months left.  But for now…I’m counting down two weeks.