My animals will probably soon be looking to give me away sometime in the future. They'd like you to know that I'm house-trained, quiet and I don't shed, but I do having some food guarding issues. Two Domestic Shorthair cats, one Quarter Horse mare and one geriatric Valley Bulldog will probably pay someone to get rid of me! Why? Because, as I've said before, we're learning physical exams this semester.
As the pet of a vet student, you receive the best of care. Top of the line foods (since we get it discounted), fantastic medical care (since we have specialists and state-of-the-art equipment at our beck and credit card's call) and more playmates and toys than you can imagine.
In exchange, we practice on you. Yeah, sucks to be you.
Before I go palpating and auscultating and sticking things up the arse of animals I don't know, naturally, I'm going to start with the ones I do know. Physical exams are actually quite daunting to me. There's so much to remember and it's the basis for the rest of your diagnostics. I've always been in awe of my veterinary mentors and just how much information they can get using their four senses (taste should probably never be a part of the physical exam) and a stethoscope. The aforementioned bulldog is a horrible little psycho (affectionately known as a "caution dog" by her veterinarian) but she's stupidly tolerant of anything I try to do to her. The mare is the same way. She's actually given me some bad horse handling habits because she's just so chilled out that I forget that not all horses are the same way. Plus, it gives me a chance to spend as much time as I want to try to find a horse's heart sounds without being laughed it.
Except possibly by my riding coach.
Scratch that, definitely by my riding coach.
Don't you laugh either! It's harder than it seems. They have big hearts, but there's just so much horse between you and the heart that hearing it isn't always easy. And they're completely uncooperative about it, since the best place to hear the heart sounds is more or less directly where their leg is, and do you think they'll remove it for me? So inconsiderate!
Monday, September 10, 2012
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Past, present and future
I won't waffle on too much about the present. It's what I live every day, obviously. From staring blankly at a histopathology slide of a kidney, to throwing out project suggestions on totally obscure viruses to a classmate ("Really, you HAVE to do rinderpest! It's an awesome name! Ooh, or how about bovine lumpy skin disease? It's officially got "lumpy" in it's name, how great is that?"), that's my day in a nut shell. And oh yes, giant kidney worms made another appearance. *shudder*
I had a past moment and a future moment though. I run the student laundry service at the AVC, and today was the first day open for the year. A fourth year bustles in just before I close the morning shift before my first class.
Her: "Oh good, you have coveralls! I don't know if I'll need them, but it never hurts to have an extra set, right? Wait, do I need them today? What day is it? Is it a weekday?"
Me: "Um, it's Tuesday."
Her: "Are you open at lunch?"
Me: "Yep, 12:30-1:20."
Her: "I'll be back at lunch then!"
She was good to her word and grabbed a pair of coveralls. I saw her later with the rest of her group as they started their diagnostics rotation. They're so close to being doctors, but they still look nervous. I'm convinced I'll never make it as a fourth year. I can't figure out a kidney histopath slide, for crying out loud. I look at them and I realize just how far I have left to go.
And then I got smacked in the face with my past. As we were sitting in the cafeteria during a break (having the aforementioned obscure viruses conversation), a group of first years filed in, pouring over laptops with histology slides on them. Oh boy. Was that really only last year? Yes, first years, histology is all pink and purple splotches and lines. I promise it gets better when you get to organs. Tissues suck. You have my deepest sympathies as someone who's been there, done that, and sadly, there wasn't even a bloody t-shirt.
I had a past moment and a future moment though. I run the student laundry service at the AVC, and today was the first day open for the year. A fourth year bustles in just before I close the morning shift before my first class.
Her: "Oh good, you have coveralls! I don't know if I'll need them, but it never hurts to have an extra set, right? Wait, do I need them today? What day is it? Is it a weekday?"
Me: "Um, it's Tuesday."
Her: "Are you open at lunch?"
Me: "Yep, 12:30-1:20."
Her: "I'll be back at lunch then!"
She was good to her word and grabbed a pair of coveralls. I saw her later with the rest of her group as they started their diagnostics rotation. They're so close to being doctors, but they still look nervous. I'm convinced I'll never make it as a fourth year. I can't figure out a kidney histopath slide, for crying out loud. I look at them and I realize just how far I have left to go.
And then I got smacked in the face with my past. As we were sitting in the cafeteria during a break (having the aforementioned obscure viruses conversation), a group of first years filed in, pouring over laptops with histology slides on them. Oh boy. Was that really only last year? Yes, first years, histology is all pink and purple splotches and lines. I promise it gets better when you get to organs. Tissues suck. You have my deepest sympathies as someone who's been there, done that, and sadly, there wasn't even a bloody t-shirt.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Cows don't care if it's cute
With Clinical Orientation II and physical examinations looming in my future, I went to buy a digital thermometer today. First off, I couldn't figure out why all the stores were so busy at 1:30 on a Tuesday. Oh, right, the normal students haven't gone back to school yet and are still buying supplies. Bugger 'em.
Anyway, back to the health and pharmacy section I go. Now, digital thermometers are generally marketed to parents with young children. So there's a lot that come in cute designs like frogs and koalas. Last I checked, cows don't generally care that the thermometer is adorable, they just want you to put their tail down and stop poking them there. Being on a budget, I grabbed the cheapest one I could find. Then I noticed it said "30 second read time". Wait, they come in different times?? So I looked at the others. "15 seconds", "10 seconds", "7 seconds". Hm. If I'm sticking this into the business end of a green horse, or a cat having a bad day, or a goat with an attitude problem, shorter is probably better. The 7 second one would have been the best option, but I didn't want to spend $40 on something that could very well end up entirely inside where-the-sun-don't-shine, or dropped into a pile of the byproducts of where-the-sun-don't-shine. I ended up with the 15 second one. It beeps when there's a fever. Or at least, a fever by human standards. Oh, and it's waterproof. So it can be washed for when I invariably drop it in poo.
I also had to grab a cheap watch, because like all normal people, I just use my phone these days, but I can't hold my phone and a stethoscope too while taking HR and RR. The watch is also able to be washed. Or at least rinsed. Hopefully though, stuck to my wrist, it won't end up in poo.
So I'm all set for labs now. I have my stethoscope, my watch with a second hand, and my thermometer.
Wait.
Bugger.
Pen light. Knew I forgot something.
*sigh*
Anyway, back to the health and pharmacy section I go. Now, digital thermometers are generally marketed to parents with young children. So there's a lot that come in cute designs like frogs and koalas. Last I checked, cows don't generally care that the thermometer is adorable, they just want you to put their tail down and stop poking them there. Being on a budget, I grabbed the cheapest one I could find. Then I noticed it said "30 second read time". Wait, they come in different times?? So I looked at the others. "15 seconds", "10 seconds", "7 seconds". Hm. If I'm sticking this into the business end of a green horse, or a cat having a bad day, or a goat with an attitude problem, shorter is probably better. The 7 second one would have been the best option, but I didn't want to spend $40 on something that could very well end up entirely inside where-the-sun-don't-shine, or dropped into a pile of the byproducts of where-the-sun-don't-shine. I ended up with the 15 second one. It beeps when there's a fever. Or at least, a fever by human standards. Oh, and it's waterproof. So it can be washed for when I invariably drop it in poo.
I also had to grab a cheap watch, because like all normal people, I just use my phone these days, but I can't hold my phone and a stethoscope too while taking HR and RR. The watch is also able to be washed. Or at least rinsed. Hopefully though, stuck to my wrist, it won't end up in poo.
So I'm all set for labs now. I have my stethoscope, my watch with a second hand, and my thermometer.
Wait.
Bugger.
Pen light. Knew I forgot something.
*sigh*
Saturday, August 25, 2012
But I can't be stressed now - classes haven't even started yet!
*whine*
Yes, it's your favourite semi-neurotic AVCer, back from a summer filled with cat feces, llama feces, goat feces, sheep feces, blood, tears, sunshine and shrieking and laughing children (amazingly, shrieking and laughing seem to sound awfully similar in human juveniles...).
Second year will officially kick off at 8:30 AST on August 27. That is, the day after tomorrow and with any lucky, it won't be like the movie of the same name. First year orientation was yesterday, and sadly, I was working so was unable to attend it. But a huge congratulations to all the AVC 2016ers. Wear those blue coats with pride! At least until you wear them to anatomy and get cadaver juice on them.*
On what should be a celebratory weekend to kick back and enjoy the last days of freedom, I'm actually a basket case. I'm moving next weekend. My dear, loving, amazing mother and step-father are driving from Nova Scotia and they'll be loading the trailer while I'm in class on Friday. So today and tomorrow, I'm mostly packing, trying to find stuff for school on Monday, picking up things I need for the apartment (those minor but important things you don't think about until you don't have them, like a dish pan).
In all of this, I get a message in my UPEI mail account on Friday informing me that our first lecture for Diagnostic Imaging has been posted online and we're to review it for Monday. It's huge. And it's on ultrasound. I was super excited about Diagnostic Imaging. I love radiographs and MRI and scintigraphy, plus two of my favourite professors would be back. Then I remembered ultrasound and I was suddenly a lot less excited and a lot more freaked out. Given enough time, I can usually find the bladder on an ultrasound, because it's a giant black circle. Everything else, and I might as well be looking at snow on a TV screen. Yikes.
While I'm on the website, I decide to see what else is up already. Clinical Orientation II has a few things posted. Yay for learning physical exams this semester! Then I see that our first week, we start talking about stethoscopes. Oh shit. Mine's in a box somewhere. Which box? Bloody hell, I don't want to have to rip them all open again! Luckily, it was the second one I looked in.
There you have it then. Haven't even started yet, and I'm already behind the 8 ball. Go me.
*Mine never did. I only ever used it in the anatomy lab on exam days, and it was thoroughly washed each time. I'm a bit obsessive about it.
Yes, it's your favourite semi-neurotic AVCer, back from a summer filled with cat feces, llama feces, goat feces, sheep feces, blood, tears, sunshine and shrieking and laughing children (amazingly, shrieking and laughing seem to sound awfully similar in human juveniles...).
Second year will officially kick off at 8:30 AST on August 27. That is, the day after tomorrow and with any lucky, it won't be like the movie of the same name. First year orientation was yesterday, and sadly, I was working so was unable to attend it. But a huge congratulations to all the AVC 2016ers. Wear those blue coats with pride! At least until you wear them to anatomy and get cadaver juice on them.*
On what should be a celebratory weekend to kick back and enjoy the last days of freedom, I'm actually a basket case. I'm moving next weekend. My dear, loving, amazing mother and step-father are driving from Nova Scotia and they'll be loading the trailer while I'm in class on Friday. So today and tomorrow, I'm mostly packing, trying to find stuff for school on Monday, picking up things I need for the apartment (those minor but important things you don't think about until you don't have them, like a dish pan).
In all of this, I get a message in my UPEI mail account on Friday informing me that our first lecture for Diagnostic Imaging has been posted online and we're to review it for Monday. It's huge. And it's on ultrasound. I was super excited about Diagnostic Imaging. I love radiographs and MRI and scintigraphy, plus two of my favourite professors would be back. Then I remembered ultrasound and I was suddenly a lot less excited and a lot more freaked out. Given enough time, I can usually find the bladder on an ultrasound, because it's a giant black circle. Everything else, and I might as well be looking at snow on a TV screen. Yikes.
While I'm on the website, I decide to see what else is up already. Clinical Orientation II has a few things posted. Yay for learning physical exams this semester! Then I see that our first week, we start talking about stethoscopes. Oh shit. Mine's in a box somewhere. Which box? Bloody hell, I don't want to have to rip them all open again! Luckily, it was the second one I looked in.
There you have it then. Haven't even started yet, and I'm already behind the 8 ball. Go me.
*Mine never did. I only ever used it in the anatomy lab on exam days, and it was thoroughly washed each time. I'm a bit obsessive about it.
Monday, July 9, 2012
A Midsummer Night's Check-In
Yes, just poking my head in here. Expect more regular updates after August 27 when second year officially starts.
Until then, I just want to touch on the physical aspect of this career path. You will get injured. It's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when. Animals are unpredictable. In addition to that, most medical procedures are at least partially uncomfortable. Your patients don't understand that you need that blood sample to diagnose them to make them feel better. They just know that you're holding them down and something just stabbed them. Sometimes, the blood drawn isn't theirs, it's yours.
Which brings me to my latest scar in the making. A run in with a goat at work resulted in my glasses frame being pushed into my right eyebrow. Result? A 4cm-ish long gash, needing five stitches and a broken lens.
Being the vet student that I am, I was mostly peeved that I couldn't watch the emergency doctor doing the sutures. No worse for wear though! I may have a scar, I may not, that remains to be seen. Luckily, vet med is the one industry where "I got this scar being in the face by a goat" is considered impressive. To the rest of the world, it's just weird.
Until then, I just want to touch on the physical aspect of this career path. You will get injured. It's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when. Animals are unpredictable. In addition to that, most medical procedures are at least partially uncomfortable. Your patients don't understand that you need that blood sample to diagnose them to make them feel better. They just know that you're holding them down and something just stabbed them. Sometimes, the blood drawn isn't theirs, it's yours.
Which brings me to my latest scar in the making. A run in with a goat at work resulted in my glasses frame being pushed into my right eyebrow. Result? A 4cm-ish long gash, needing five stitches and a broken lens.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
On hiatus!
*blows cobwebs away*
Just so you don't stumble on to this blog and think it's been abandoned. My Four Years and Counting will be on hiatus until sometime in mid-August as I'm getting ready for second year. After all, it's a bit hard to blog about vet school when you're not in vet school. To all the accepted internationals in the Class of 2016, I can't wait to meet you! And Canadians, stalk your mail carrier because letters are going out this week!
So I'll leave you with some interesting lobster colour genetics, and in the words of Tigger: "TTFN! Ta ta for now!"
Will rare blue lobster give birth to blue babies?
Just so you don't stumble on to this blog and think it's been abandoned. My Four Years and Counting will be on hiatus until sometime in mid-August as I'm getting ready for second year. After all, it's a bit hard to blog about vet school when you're not in vet school. To all the accepted internationals in the Class of 2016, I can't wait to meet you! And Canadians, stalk your mail carrier because letters are going out this week!
So I'll leave you with some interesting lobster colour genetics, and in the words of Tigger: "TTFN! Ta ta for now!"
Will rare blue lobster give birth to blue babies?
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Epilogue to Year 1
So, I've survived - yes, I'm sure my absence indicated exams had driven me to run off and join the circus; they did, but I'm a lousy acrobat, so I came home.
I got through exams and came out the other side relatively unscathed, if tired. Marks came in a week or so ago and it's all good news, so I can't complain there!
I had almost two weeks off, and I started my first of two summer jobs today. I'm running some lab work for a PhD student at school. Nothing glamorous, but it's much needed paid lab experience that I'm more than grateful to have. I'll be with her until the end of June, then I'm acting as a camp counsellor at some animal themed day camps for July and August.
Today, I had sort of a weird revelation. I was following the PhD candidate around, observing how she went about her research, asking lots of questions (she's very patient with me, luckily). It struck me - I was a minarai.
I've long been entranced by the karyukai - the flower and willow world of geisha. There's sort of four stages to a geisha's training. Shikomi, minarai, maiko and geisha.
Shikomi (仕込み) are the errand runners. They don't entertain, they don't get dressed up. They learn, they clean, they cook, they practice. Shikomi are pre-vets. The word "shikomi" translates as "preparation".
Minarai (見習い) are first stage apprentices. They atten parties, but they don't do much. Their goal is to watch and learn. Vet students in years 1-3 are minarai. We pay attention and if we're really lucky, we learn something.
Maiko (舞妓) literally translates as "dancing child". These are the fourth years. They're starting to entertain (see clients, treat patients), but they're nervous, they're inexperienced. Real maiko wear bright, almost garish kimono and hair ornaments to cover up the fact that they might be a bit clumsy. Senior vet students hide behind their lab coats, their stethoscopes, and will happily talk your ear off about what they do know in hopes that it covers up what they don't know*. I could probably lump new graduates and interns in here too.
Geiko (芸子）is the veterinarian with a few years under their belt. The geiko is refined, elegant. They don't need the flashy clothes and jargon. They may wear a white coat, or scrubs, or jeans. It doesn't matter, they know what they're talking about. They just go about their business, confident in their abilities.
So there you have it. That's what exams does to you. It makes you draw really weird comparisons. Someone reset my brain please?
*Okay, to be fair, all vet students sort of do that. Including yours truly. "Well I don't know much about x, but here's everything I know that's even vaguely related to x!" It's a bad exam habit I have.
I got through exams and came out the other side relatively unscathed, if tired. Marks came in a week or so ago and it's all good news, so I can't complain there!
I had almost two weeks off, and I started my first of two summer jobs today. I'm running some lab work for a PhD student at school. Nothing glamorous, but it's much needed paid lab experience that I'm more than grateful to have. I'll be with her until the end of June, then I'm acting as a camp counsellor at some animal themed day camps for July and August.
Today, I had sort of a weird revelation. I was following the PhD candidate around, observing how she went about her research, asking lots of questions (she's very patient with me, luckily). It struck me - I was a minarai.
I've long been entranced by the karyukai - the flower and willow world of geisha. There's sort of four stages to a geisha's training. Shikomi, minarai, maiko and geisha.
Shikomi (仕込み) are the errand runners. They don't entertain, they don't get dressed up. They learn, they clean, they cook, they practice. Shikomi are pre-vets. The word "shikomi" translates as "preparation".
Minarai (見習い) are first stage apprentices. They atten parties, but they don't do much. Their goal is to watch and learn. Vet students in years 1-3 are minarai. We pay attention and if we're really lucky, we learn something.
Maiko (舞妓) literally translates as "dancing child". These are the fourth years. They're starting to entertain (see clients, treat patients), but they're nervous, they're inexperienced. Real maiko wear bright, almost garish kimono and hair ornaments to cover up the fact that they might be a bit clumsy. Senior vet students hide behind their lab coats, their stethoscopes, and will happily talk your ear off about what they do know in hopes that it covers up what they don't know*. I could probably lump new graduates and interns in here too.
Geiko (芸子）is the veterinarian with a few years under their belt. The geiko is refined, elegant. They don't need the flashy clothes and jargon. They may wear a white coat, or scrubs, or jeans. It doesn't matter, they know what they're talking about. They just go about their business, confident in their abilities.
So there you have it. That's what exams does to you. It makes you draw really weird comparisons. Someone reset my brain please?
*Okay, to be fair, all vet students sort of do that. Including yours truly. "Well I don't know much about x, but here's everything I know that's even vaguely related to x!" It's a bad exam habit I have.
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