A year or two before beginning vet school I ran an "ascent only" trail race while living on the banks of the Atlantic. The deceptively named "Loon mountain 10K" is run in the mountains of New Hampshire - a few hours from the coast of Maine. I felt reasonably confident that the course was well within my abilities. After all, I routinely ran 7 - 10 miles, 5 miles being a "short" day for me. The morning of the race dawned grey, humid and overcast - typical of the great summers of New England. I roused my husband and drove the three hours to the race in the early dawn.
The race began mildly enough, in a river bed at the foot of the Loon Mountain ski hill. It was a small group, maybe a few hundred competitors - all jovial and at ease - until the gun sounded at which point they all rushed wildly down the rocky path, jockeying for position. This surprised me, most trail races don't start with a mad rush - but the reason for this became clear. The first 300 feet of this race is the ONLY level ground for the entire 6.1 miles.
I'm not sure which part of "ascent only" I didn't understand - I ran, I walked, I ran, I cursed, I tried running backwards. I passed people vomiting, people sitting, people crying. At one point the grade was so steep a gentleman in front of me began to crawl on hands and knees. As I neared the summit, and hopefully the end, I caught a glimpse of my husband clapping and offering encouragement to the finishers. My heart swelled with love and affection. But as I drew nearer I saw my ever supportive spouse was shaking his head and laughing - and the words that reached my ears as I crossed the finish line, spoken in his delicious, colonial, Zimbabwean accent were "You silly bitch, you did this to yourself!"
The fourth, and final, year of vet school is much different in design and composition then the preceding three years. As I may have mentioned we rotate through a variety of clinical settings - anesthesia, internal medicine, surgery, etc - each lasting roughly two weeks. Interspersed between these rotations are vacation weeks. Brief islands of time where we attempt to decompress, relax, recharge, do laundry, repair damaged relationships with loved one, study for the up coming national board exam, look for jobs, agonize over internships - you know - really just catch up on the little things.
I would maybe enjoy this time off more if I was less bitter about the rotation I just completed. I am still somewhat twitchy and gun shy after finishing a critical care rotation where I worked 90 hours in the last week - and in those 90 hours gained zero clinical skills while experiencing daily public shaming. (A two for one bonus type thing!) Just to add to the awesomeness of the entire situation, it dawned on me, that as an out of state student, I paid roughly $ 1000.00 for the pleasure of those 90 hours.
I have tried to reflect or put a positive spin on this time by making a list of things, that perhaps, I did learn and will benefit me as a practitioner in the coming years.
1. I performed my first ever physical exam on a bearded dragon. Actually I saw my first ever bearded dragon (a type of lizard kept as pets by certain people - usually 8 to 14 year old boys.) I blustered my way though the interaction - frantically thinking "what is the normal heart rate for these guys? 50 seams kind of low for an animal weighing 300 grams? Do you check capillary refill time? If so, how the hell do I get it to open its mouth?" And most importantly I kept repeating to my self "Don't scream if it bites you, don't scream if it bites you..."
2. "Huffling" is not a good sign in hedgehogs. DO NOT google the word "huffle" if you do, do not access the urban dictionary to further your understanding of the word.
3. If you cannot get said huffling hedgehog to unroll try putting it on its head and rubbing the spines on its butt. (I have found this skill useful in getting prickly husbands to unroll too!)
4. BDLD - In veterinary medicine this is not a kinky bedroom maneuver but stands for 'Big Dog/Little Dog' and refers to altercations between the two. Little dog usually gets the short end of the deal.
5. When asked by a client that just administered 15 times the dose of a certain medication if the overdose "could be fatal" the correct answer is "yes." In fact, remember enough of anything is fatal. Even water.
6. There are evidently 14 distinct features that can be assessed during a digital rectal exam of the dog - evidently being the key word in the sentence.
7. Tactfully asking a panicked client, at 4 AM, if there is any chance that their cat may have consumed marijuana is not as easy at it sounds.
8. Do not piss off the nurses - they are your best chance at getting out alive - and not killing anything else along the way.
I am sure there are other aspects to my education that have been enhanced. Perhaps I have greater compassion? A tougher work ethic? Better client communication skills?
Perhaps.... but the words that keep running though my mind on this mental "ascent only" slog are "You silly bitch, you did this to yourself."
