Life has changed...

It has been just over a year since I have posted on this blog.  And nothing about my life is the same as it was then.

Well, okay.  I'm still married to the same guy, I still live in the same town, I still work the same job.

But otherwise?  We bought a house, DH is now home and no longer on the road, we have a baby, we are down to 2 dogs, 5 cats, and we now have 5 chickens (the ferrets are gone).  I'm switching shifts so I will now be the weekend vet (at the end of July when the new vet is present to replace me).

So a lot of things are different.

I also no longer follow WW.  Right before I got pregnant last year, which was just after I stopped blogging, my dad convinced me to read The Primal Blueprint, by Mark Sisson:

 

I was intrigued.  From the cover, it looked like just another weight-loss fad diet.  But my dad's a smart guy, he wouldn't be fooled by something like that.  So I read it.  I was skeptical.  I read it with the intention of satisfying my dad and then ignoring everything it said.  But that didn't  happen.

The whole premise is basically following a low-carb hunter-gatherer type diet.  Medically, it made a lot of sense to me, and it fit in with what I know.  I decided to give it a try.  I was just starting to realize that I felt much better in general when I got pregnant, and I got sick.  And I could no longer tolerate the sight or smell of eggs or meat in general.  So it was put on hold.

But now we're back.  And I am currently at my lowest weight that I have been in nearly 12 years, and still dropping.  And the best part?  I DON'T FEEL HUNGRY!  That was why WW always failed me.  I always felt hungry.  Now, I eat when I'm hungry.  And without the sugar swings, that's nowhere near as common as it used to be anyway.  (If anyone's interested, I have a blog about that lifestyle too:  http://becomingprimal.blogspot.com/).

So that's where life is right now.  I need to try to start posting stories about my job again.  But until my schedule changes and I can post during baby naps (when he actually takes them...), I'll still be pretty limited.  But we'll try.  Because, let's face it, my job (and I guess my life in general) can be pretty entertaining some days.

Catching up

I have been a huge slacker with the blogs lately.  Reading, writing...  I'm trying to get caught up.

The reality is life has been crazy.  Long hours at work, miscarriages at home, depressed husbands on the road.  Lots of animals, lots of rain, limited walking opportunities making it feel like even more animals.  Definitely enough hair on the floor to make another 100 pound dog all by itself.

But life is still okay.  House in North Dakota closed yesterday.  We're very slowly starting to look for another house but while John is starting to look for another job, I hesitate to buy and move yet.  However, house hunting this time around will be much more fun as there are multiple amazing houses to chose from, rather than a choice of terrible, horrible, or workable. 

I can't think of that many funny stories from work from lately except for the case of the appearing spots.  This little old woman brought her itty bitty dog in to see me because after she had given her a bath the night before, there were suddenly spots all over her belly and the lady thought her dog was going to die.  I picked her up to look at her belly and had to bit my lip almost all the way through to not start laughing crazily.  The spots were totally normal pigmentation that I can guarantee had been there longer than the previous night.  And when I told the woman they were absolutely no concern and her dog was not going to die, she burst into tears.  And bitchy me, I had to bite my lip even harder. 

Otherwise, it's been lots of routine vaccinations, ear checks, and vomiting animals.  Nothing that exciting.

But life is good and going to shear alpacas in Utah this weekend.  :)

I'm my worst critic

I have been having serious doubts about my performance at work.  Basically, I have felt like a complete idiot for the last 2 weeks, and have been sure that my boss is secretly thinking "Why the hell did I hire her?"

But after today, I think I'm doing okay.

The day started out busy and never stopped.  When I first got to work, I was immediately handed several cases to take over for the day.  Then I get the quiz.  "So this dog came in last night because it ate chocolate.  [Experienced weekend vet] couldn't answer this question, let's see if you do better..."  Uh oh.  No pressure or anything.   "What's the most common clinical sign to expect with chocolate toxicosis?"  Oh, oh!  I know that one!  Of course, I couldn't remember the name of the drug to use to counteract the elevated heart rate that comes from ingesting chocolate (propanolol, for future reference), but it was still points for me.

Then a rat comes in.  (As a side note, why would you spend hundreds of dollars on an animal that cost about $2 at the pet store?  I don't get it.  I guess it's all about the emotional connection.)  Either way, they had two rats.  They lived in town but had left 2.5 hours earlier and had only just found the clinic.  The female had died on the way.  The male was at death's door.  And they wanted me to perform miracles.  This was an interesting couple anyway, but the guy was sobbing.  So I had to try.  I gave it some fluids, some antibiotics, some heat, and crossed my fingers.  Half an hour later, it was gone.  But my boss said "I'm glad you're willing to try on cases like this, I think that's why we're here."  Or something like that.  But kudos to me for trying!

And then the day gets crazy.  [Weekend vet] likes to disappear on me, although I think he's really just chatting as I'm trying to see 5 rooms at once.  Either way, I was crazy busy.  And boss-man knew that.  As we were both trying to finish so we could get out of there, me to my husband and him to a house call, he turned around as he was walking through the door and I was racing around with a foot-high stack of charts, and said "You work very well independently and that is great.  I just want you to know how much I appreciate that."  Yay!

So all of this makes me think he doesn't hate me after all.  And maybe I'll be okay as I'm catching on to his policies more and more. 

And on top of all of that, a client I've been working with for almost a week because his ancient lab keeps goign downhill said that he was so glad that I was working on her because some of the other doctors seem to just not care as much.  Again, I thought I was totally messing up this case and the guy probably hated me.

Moral of this story:  I obviously need to work on not thinking the worst and realizing that people probably aren't anywhere near as hard on me as I am on myself. 

Now if only it were that easy...

This is Tank:

Tank is a 7 year old lab/newfoundland cross that I met today.  He was given up by his owners about 3 months ago as they had too many medical issues of their own to be able to care for him any longer.  He went to live with one of the receptionists at the clinic.  However, she struggled to afford his care so he was looking for a new home.

He is a morbidly obese 165 pounds, possibly due to the meals of dog food smothered with gravy and the spoonful of peanut butter he got each morning and evening to hide his pills.  He is also very arthritic and epileptic.  And he is a sweetheart.

So being a sucker for gigantic dogs, he came to live with me today.  At least, assuming DH approves.  He doesn't exactly realize I have this gigantic monster in the house yet.  But the dogs like him...  :)

Happy despite everything...

I went to bed at 8:00 last night because I could no longer deal with life.  And yet yesterday was overall a good day.

Today sucked.  I went to my first meeting and am currently at my highest recorded weight ever.  Very scary.  And then there was work.

I had two very sweet dogs come in today.  The first was a 12 year old diabetic lab who was peeing blood.  Yes, she had your typical diabetic urinary tract infection.  But she also had a bladder wall the thickness of your average paperback.  It took three needles to get through the wall to get a urine sample.  So then I had to talk to her dad about the fact that she may have a bladder tumor.  And when I made the mistake of mentioning an eye doctor in Spokane, I then had to explain that yes, the other vet who told him that she was not going to get her sight back was likely correct.  Just because there are vets who specialize in eyes does not mean that doctor can perform miracles.  Unfortunately.

The second was also an older dog who comes in because he is not feeling well, breathes like Darth Vader, and is getting some extra tumors.  Well, he had laryngeal paralysis.  In and of itself a big deal, but fairly treatable surgically.  But not an explanation for why he doesn't feel good.  So we did bloodwork.  It was beautiful.  Next was the radiograph.  And there we go.  His lungs were a disaster.  It looked like someone had pelleted a million cloudy bb's into the lungs.  This could be pneumonia, but given the lack of a fever or elevated white count, likely not.  Probably metastases.  And this owner is in the medical field so she understands what I'm talking about, and she understands the prognosis sucks.  The lungs aren't good enough and the larynx doesn't work.  No wonder he feels like shit.

And yet despite all of this, the evening has been good.  Muddy lovey dogs just make my day.  :)

Intuitive eating...

I haven't posted for a few weeks.  Amazing how time flies when you're packing, moving 800 miles, unpacking, organizing, unpacking again, starting new jobs, etc.

And I don't have any fun stories to share yet, but I do have some thoughts.

My first week here, I bought "Intuitive eating."

I'd heard about it several times on the boards.  Decided it was worth a try.  I am now almost done with it, and I am intrigued.

I have been on WW more or less for 9 years.  Considering the fact I am currently at my highest weight, I have obviously not actually been following the plan that entire time.  But it is always on my mind.  ALWAYS.  Every time I pick up a cookie and end up eating ten, my mind is calculating points.  Every time I make popcorn, I think how much healthier it would be with EVOO instead of butter.  And every time I work out, I don't feel like it was worth it unless I burn at least 300 calories.

So this is a whole new concept.  Throw out dieting?  Eat whatever I want, whenever I want?  Sounds amazing.  Also sounds unrealistic. 

Except here's the thing:  it's almost working.  Before I started the book, I bought a pack of mint oreos.  They were gone the next day.  Since I've started reading it and convinced myself I'll try it and really won't go back to WW yet (therefore won't start restricting myself anytime soon), I've managed to leave reeses PB cups, those amazing pink and white frosted animal cookies, PB and cookie dough ice cream, etc.  I haven't binged a single time since I started reading the book.  The real test?  The chocolate-no-bakes.  I ate a couple yesterday, the rest are still in the fridge.  I DID NOT eat the entire batch for the FIRST time in 9 years.

And who knows who long this will last.  Although now there's another catch.  DH and I want to start TTC again, which means I need to get some weight off.  So now that I've experimented, I'm going to try to integrate.  I'm going to go back to meetings.  But I'm also going to try to pay more attention to what I want to eat and honor those cravings so I don't binge as frequently.  And once I get pregnant, I'll start focusing on the intuitive eating again.

Not quite how they want you to do things, but I'm going to make it work.  Because so far both plans have their good points.  We'll see what happens.

All in a day's work

I went on a farm call today and got to see one of my old patients.  And she remembered me.  According to her owner, she NEVER barks at anyone.  Well, she barked at me all right.  She barked at me to say "I remember you, get the hell off my property."

But it was great seeing her.  She was my very first hit-by-car emergency case.  She came in early afternoon on a day when I was already slammed, Doc was backed up on appointments that were waiting in the lobby and no one knew where he was, and I was trying to coordinate everything.  Then a guy walked through the door who was younger than me, with tears streaming down his face as he carried in his dog that had just been run over by a truck.

Her gums were white.  Her heart rate sounded like a train.  Her pelvis ground whenever it was moved.  A needle into the abdomen came back with bloody fluid.  I wanted to refer her, he had no money.  I told him we had to do an exploratory because I thought she had ruptured her spleen.  He quickly agreed.  I had never done a splenectomy, I had never even done a real exploratory surgery by myself.  But I got in there and her spleen looked beautiful.  Her stomach and kidneys looked beautiful.  The intestines were intact.  Then I got to the bladder.  It had a huge tear. 

We flushed her out with about a million gallons of saline, I sewed up the bladder and then the abdominal wall, we sent her home on multiple antibiotics and pain meds with instructions to stay calm and make sure she was peeing.  It took several days before we were sure she could urinate, and I spent a lot of that time on the phone with the owner.  But she was okay.  A few days later she was walking on 3 legs.  A few months later, she was moving the 4th leg.  And now, 9 months later, she's just a little gimpy.

Makes ya feel pretty damn good about what you do for a living.

Then there's the other side of the job. 

I went out there today so we could vaccinate some heifers.  Vaccinating for brucellosis involves tattooing and tagging the ear as well.  Which cows don't like.  Especially unhandled black cows.  I usually have very quick reflexes, but my brain has been all over the place today.  Within the first two cows, my right hand had been banged.  The third cow tried to bite me.  I swear to God I felt teeth going down my arm.  Never mind that cows only have bottom teeth in the front of their mouth.  It was the fourth cow that nailed me.  She was already trying to lunge at me through the head catch.  I was very carefully trying to spread ink in her ear, ready to jerk my hands back at any second, when she swung her head around as hard as she could.  I didn't get my hand out of the way fast enough and she smashed the outside of my left hand between her head and a bolt in the chute.

Now, if it had just hit the rail, it would have been painful enough.  But the bolt was smaller, sharper, with worse edges.  It scratched the skin off my hand and I was bleeding under the glove.  It took three more cows before I could even begin to move that hand again.  By the time I got back to the clinic, it felt like I had stuck my hand in a fire and I couldn't move my pinky.  The outside of my hand was definitely starting to look a lot bigger than the other hand.  And now, nearly 12 hours later, it's turning black.  And it still hurts.  Especially when the cats try to rub their heads against it.  I still can't move my pinky.

I tried to take a picture, but unfortunately the camera just does not do it justice.

However, injuries like this are pretty common in my job.  It'll be better in a day or two.  Just to be replaced by some other injury in a week or so.  Such is life in the field of cow medicine.  And as twisted as it may make me, I'm going to miss it.  Although my body may disagree.