The importance of respect

I've been thinking about this a lot lately.  As I'm sitting here, exactly one week from my last day at work, I'm actually kind of sad about leaving.  With the end in sight, all I can think about is why I liked my job.  The parts I hated, the reasons I'm leaving, are slipping out of sight.

Then I get a phone call.  It's from one of the new potential hires.  My boss gave her my number so that she can talk to me about the job.  She asks me a lot of general questions about how the clinic is run.  Then she asks me some tough questions.  "I've heard he has a temper?"  Um, yeah.  Temper is an understatement.  I've seen him kick cows in the head over and over again because they were too sick to stand and this was inconvenient for him.  I've heard stories of him punching a dog in the head that wouldn't hold still, and stabbing the neck of a horse with a forcep because it tried to bite him when he poked it with a needle.  Stabbing to the point where they had to sew the neck up afterward.  I have his dog in my living room right now, a dog who cowers whenever he walks by because he's been kicked and smacked so many times.  So yeah, he has a temper.

"How are the finances?"  How do I answer that?  If I'm being completely honest, I say that they're awful.  Like taxes haven't been paid in 8 years.  He handles money worse than any person I've ever met.  I've been worried that I won't be able to deposit my paychecks, and we often don't have necessary supplies because he says we don't have the money to buy them. 

"How does everyone treat the clients?"  Well, if someone has the gall to go somewhere else because he's out of town or too busy, he basically says "Fuck you, keep going to them then."  He's always at least an hour late for farm calls, usually closer to 2, because he's "the only vet in town, so where else are they going to go?"  He talks about clients he doesn't like to all the other clients, with no interest in confidentiality.  It makes him feel important to make fun of one client to another.

I know I've had some issues with the secretary.  But the biggest reason I'm leaving my job?  I have no respect for my boss.  NONE.  And when I'm sitting here not sure whether I'm happy to be leaving, he's kind enough to provide me with a reminder.

We had a horse come in that started colicking after working for most of the day.  It was trying to lay down, very obviously uncomfortable, sweating like crazy.  The owners couldn't afford to take it to Bismarck for surgery so we agreed to watch it.  And the first thing Doc did was shove some mineral oil down the stomach to relieve the obstruction that he couldn't even feel.  Not how you're supposed to start.  He didn't listen to a heart rate.  That's your most obvious indication of pain.  He didn't pass a tube.  Suppose there was a twist just distal to the stomach.  Passing a tube would relieve some of the pressure.  Putting mineral oil in just increases the pressure and therefore the pain. 

We watch the horse overnight and into the next day.  He's getting worse.  In a few hours, his heart rate went from 72 to 90 (it should have been less than 40).  He was rolling more and more.  The owner calls Doc, who's on a farm call.  They still can't afford referral, so Doc offers to try the surgery.  This is bad on several levels.  He makes it seem like he's done tons of these.  Yeah, a couple, over 15 years ago, with twice the number of people.  He makes it sound like there's a good chance.  My estimate was 5-10% chance of survival, if that.  He refuses to let any of the owners friends, including another vet, come help even though we may have needed as many hands as we could get.  (Have you ever seen horse intestines?  They're HUGE.)  Then the worst part?  This conversation took place at 11 am.  He spent the next 5 hours finishing his farm call, which was NOT an emergency, then taking the time to get lunch, talk with clients, etc.

So imagine my surprise when we go in and the intestine has ruptured.  Now, I realize that as a completely last ditch resort, us going into that horse was okay.  But it should have been done with the realization that chances of survival were next to none, it should have been done 5 hours earlier, and it should have been done at least semi-sterily just in case the horse survived.  Having intestines strewn across a dirty floor does not count.  And considering we were dealing with a pair of very poor newlyweds, I would have highly recommended euthanasia instead of a surgery they couldn't afford.  Now they have a bill to pay and no horse to show for it.

My new boss is going to drive me crazy.  He's not going to let me do a lot of stuff simply because I'm not the best available, and with everything else he is going to be looking over my shoulder.  But I can RESPECT him.  After talking to the other employees, he is a person who is easy to admire.  He knows his stuff, he makes sure he is current and up-to-date, and the clients and patients are his first concern rather than acquiring as much money as possible. 

So yes, I am sad to leave my job.  I'm going to miss my house.  I'll miss the clients and the cows.  I'll miss the tech.  But I will not miss a man who makes decisions and acts in such a way that I just cannot respect him.  It's just too important.