Takira

...so yeah. Back to work, three surgeries later. My right thumb's a little shorter than the left and will forever lack a thumbnail--and will likely end out even a little shorter than this after a probable fourth surgery sometime in the fall in an effort to improve userfriendliness of the thing--and that's okay, because I still have a second phalanx, even if it's a stubby one.

I've got some cool scars and got to experience some really neat medicine, wound care management, and surgery. I got to sample three different types of anaesthesia and report on which drugs I liked best. I got to experience the tolerance one develops to vicodin after being on it, then off, then on again. I got to see what bone looks like beautifully exposed, not because it had been dissected out but because the flesh surrounding it just quietly decomposed and fell away. I got to make my surgeon laugh and almost made him cry.

And I'm back to work now, doing surgery, doing farm calls, doing on-call, and while clients notice the little cover on my wounded digit they don't give it much thought, because they don't know how long it's been there and how long it will continue to be. If they notice I'm a little slower or more awkward at certain tasks they haven't thought it odd enough to say anything. They don't know that it takes me five to ten minutes longer to perform a spay, ten to fifteen minutes longer to declaw a cat, or that I pull testicles with my left hand now.

They don't know and they don't care, because after all this I'm still able to do my job, and I guess when it all boils down to that, I can't be anything but happy.

Maybe once a year I actually think to sign into this thing, so I guess just for the hell of it I'll give a run-down of what's new in my life lately, at least the only vaguely interesting stuff:

-week between Christmas and New Year's spent in hospital
-2 surgeries (3rd likely pending)
-3 weeks IV antibiotics
-8 or 9 recheck appointments
-2 months off work

What was this cataclysm? Did I get run down by an angry bull? Caught in a grain thresher? Some cool war story to tell my (or more likely someone else's) grandchildren someday? No.

One. Stupid. Cat bite. This is the bite that angry cats dream of inflicting. Mr. Kitty will go down in the annals of Angry Cat history for inflicting a near-amputation in revenge for having his x-ray taken.

I need bloody hazard pay.

...so I've been in practice for just shy of a year now, and I won't say it's the interaction with clients that makes it all worthwhile, but it does at least provide some passing entertainment from time to time. Some of my favorites:

"Don't worry, doc, he'd never bite you."
"...seeing as how he just did I'm not convinced. Can we get someone else in here?"

"...wait, is this going to cost money?"

caller on the emergency line, around midnight: "When do you guys open? Are you open now?"

"You're putting your finger where?"

"I want my dog's tubes tied but leave everything in there so she can still have sex."

"Is this the safe vaccine?"
"...I wasn't aware we carried specifically UNsafe ones, ma'am."

"My cat hasn't pooped yet today [this at 10:30 a.m.]. What do you think could be wrong?"

"Is that blood? Well...yes, now that you mention it, Fluffy has, um...attacked a few people who came to our house, but we figured she'd be okay with you."

And the ever-popular:

"So am I gonna get to talk to the vet?"
"........sir, I hate to break it to you but I am the vet."

To conclude, my mission this year is to look markedly older than I did last year. -_-;;

Also, random angelic memeness!



I'm...transparent and emotionless. Go me!

...so looking back at my camera, I took a grand total of five pictures at AX this year and one of them was both a duplicate, and blurry, so here are the four remaining, along with some meaningless rambling for flavor.

( Cut for great justice! )

...okay. Those of you who know me (yes, all...I dunno, four of ya) can hopefully attest that I'm not that weak of mind or stomach, I'm really not. That said...

( ...this isn't for the faint of heart. I mean it. )

(There are fly larvae involved in this venting. You have been warned.)

I had to shower for about forty-five minutes and scrub my skin raw before I felt clean after that.

...so, erm...on a brighter note, cc_lemon and I flee this place for the balmy palms of Anaheim on Thursday (yay!). I still need to finish my Milliardo coat (eek!). I was gonna do that tomorrow, as tomorrow is technically my day off, but I might not get that luxury. Well, if I have to be hand-stitching hems at IHOP Friday morning, durnit, I will.

Happy thoughts happy thoughts happy thoughts...

"Being admitted to the profession of veterinary medicine, I solemnly swear to use my scientific knowledge and skills for the benefit of society through the protection of animal health, the relief of animal suffering, the conservation of livestock resources, the promotion of public health, and the advancement of medical knowledge. I will practice my profession conscientiously, with dignity, and in keeping with the principles of veterinary medical ethics. I accept as a lifelong obligation the continual improvement of my professional knowledge and competence." --Veterinarian's Oath

...

...right, then. What's next?

...see? 's a die.

Take the quiz at dicepool.com

No use trying to fight it, you're an eight-sided die, a d8. A fine example of simple elegance, the d8 is one of the least appreciated types of dice, and is often neglected. You are known to be quiet and shy, outward traits that conceal viscous sarcasm and mean wit. You are very smart, yet wise enough to hide your intelligence. The quicker they find out how smart you are, the sooner they'll put you to work, which is something you can do without. People call you dark and pessimistic, or moody and cynical. You find little point in arguing.


Go me! ...I think. Maybe.

Hrm, other news:

- I have a job. I start the last day in May.
- I have an apartment lined up already. They accept my kitties and my kitty buffet.
- I have six more weeks of school. It's joyous terror.

How am I celebrating? By spending easter Sunday sitting around waiting for my phone to ring 'cause I'm on call for anaesthesia. Erm...w00t, I guess.

...I passed. @_@

13 more weeks to go.

Perhaps I can do this after all.

...so January just up and disappeared on me, pretty much, after slogging through the last of 2004 took a smallish eternity. It was my last vacation of my academic career, sprinkled with such joys as watching a lens removal on our poor beat-up old cat at home, the dispersal of my resume, a fairly spur-of-the-moment interview ("Well, can you show up tomorrow?"), and the crowning glory, running off to San Francisco with cc_lemon and hanging out in a cool little apartment suite with her and doortoriver after the latter got her guts all chopped up. Very awesome.

cc_lemon and I also got to act all motherly and set up a play-date for our respective kittens (Tess and Kyo--the Great Destroyers--are littermates). Much fun, much meatloaf, much kitteny hissing.

Now my big challenge is the Job Hunt: one interview down, three-to-four to go (seeing as one place is in PA, they're doing a phone interview first to decide if I really need to truck out there or not), two of which'll be done by the end of this weekend. I even went out and bought a suitably jobby-looking dress shirt just for the occasion(s). Dressing like a grown-up still feels funny to me.

In other news, I force-fed a bald eagle today and only got bitten once. Rock on.

We each have our own little way of celebrating the relative freedom of a weekend, even if it's subconscious. Some "go out", plus or minus booze, some stay at home and rent a movie or order a pizza or just any little thing that isn't usually compatible with the work week; we all get our little indulgences.

Well, I've been in clinics for nearly a year now; haven't had a break to speak of since early July. Completed the national board exam. Have survived four out of the five Worst Rotations thus far and have targeted my top three job prospects. Also finally pinned down what it was that made today feel special out of the last...I dunno, month or so.

I saw the outdoors by daylight.

I just love this time of year. I love it so bloody much.

Only recalled that it was the first of the month because I had to pay rent and all that good stuff. What happened to September, I'm not honestly sure. Heck, I don't even clearly recall the better part of August. The whole fragging summer's gone, where was I?

I was in clinics, that's where I was. My three-week stint in equine went a lot more quickly than I'd thought, and was more enjoyable than what I'd heard from those who'd clawed their way through and out of it previously. If we could get all our in-patients to stop dying, it would be even better. Laminitis Is Bad.

In other news, finally got myself scheduled for the national board exam. On November 29th, my brain will self-immolate after (well, hopefully after) an 8 hour examination with a grand total of 45 minutes break, which includes lunch. Should be...interesting. o_0

In OTHER other news, cheers to cc_lemon and doortoriver, who are finally getting to take a break from, you know...that whole Life thing. Bothersome stuff, that.

Today is laundry day, and I pause a moment to reflect on just why I might have been getting odd looks from the cashier at Best Buy yesterday. I suppose when one is in a set of rumpled scrubs stained with (small, in my defense) spots of--

-axle grease from the stomach pump that was gagging on its slurry of activated charcoal
-smudges of said charcoal mixed with pepto-bismol (bought by the gallon jug)
-blood, both arterial and venous
-possibly-rickettsial diarrhea
-horse snot
-betadine
-stomach contents of a large herbivore

--you have to expect such looks. Thing is, I keep forgetting that very few people but me find these things normal. My cat's gotten so used to it that she doesn't even bother sniffing me when I come home anymore.

I think it's safe to say that this is a fairly unique line of work.

I am the very essence of the paranoid cat-mommy that irks me when I'm on the vet side of things, and I'm not sure whether to be amused or appalled.

Had to drop Gish off early this morning for her dental, amidst her howls of despair and much Crummy Feelings on my part for subjecting her to the whole stressful business. Didn't get around to picking her up until about six in the evening, at which point she was still pretty darned gorked, and staggered wildly around the apartment, trying desperately to hide under the couch when she couldn't steer well enough to aim at it.

She's walking okay now, but is still quite subdued. She's refused her food (even canned), and is evidently seeking to sleep until this whole day turns out to be one bad dream. Her fur's still all frowsled, but at least she's letting me pet her now. We'll see how that lasts when I have to pill her twice a day starting tomorrow morning.

Poor, poor kitty.

I've attended this same school for about six years now. There are 40,000+ students on campus. Especially during undergrad, I got very used to being nothing more or less than a Number. It was actually oddly comforting to me, because I'm introverted enough that few things are as terrifying to me as individual recognition. Even once I got into vet school, there were just over a hundred people in my class, a goodly portion more outgoing and distinctive than I. The first time a professor greeted me by name on the stairs I startled so hard I nearly fell down them.

Now, then--today I was in radiology and sharing the darkroom with the prof who taught us first semester anatomy. I only ever had him for that one class, one semester--my very first semester, when I still cared enough about appearances to fear being the first to turn in a completed exam. Rather than brave the long and silent walk to the front of the class to turn it in, I would turn the exam paper over and draw horses on the back of the sheet. Depending on how long it took the rest of the class to finish, these ranged from poorly-executed sketches to decently detailed scenes of mares and foals at pasture, different breeds, et cetera. I barely remember this, and naturally didn't expect him to.

...imagine my surprise when he turned to me today, nearly three years later, and asked if I still draw. It actually took me a few seconds to figure out what he meant by it, at which point I was flustered enough that my response--I don't even clearly remember it--was something less than suave. He then mentioned something about wanting to know if I were interested in sometime helping him out with some of his work (research) on horse feet, and I'm pretty sure that somewhere in the faltering and fumbling I said that I would be. I hope he remembers that as well as he remembered my compulsive doodling.

Just goes to show that my schtick still needs work. I can almost fake being Normal most of the time now; but just when I'm getting good at it, something catches me off guard and I'm back to being the stuttering, backwards little cave-dweller I've always been.

On the upside, the darkroom's as cozy a cave as a girl could want.

Ah, Anime Expo...my once-a-year socialization event. It also helps that the one time I dress and act like a complete fool, I'm a couple thousand miles from where any of my professional contacts will recognize me; remarkably freeing, that. As an added bonus, I actually got my costume done on time (I say this like I made the thing myself--the pants were the only component I constructed, my incredibly talented mother did everything else and did it up right), and the wig needed no trimming, hairspray, mousse or egg-whites.

Anyhows, what y'all most likely want is pictures...

( ...and pictures I got )

All in all, very much with the fun. Sadly, Manzai didn't make it, so we all took turns making groan-worthy puns in her honor (whence came "look, it's a group of...*beat*...FAN-girls" with reference to the above group shots, and Pump-kun, among other things). Isa got runner-up in the much-improved AX Idol competition (auditions are a GOOD thing) and swears she wasn't stalking So-And-So because really...we just sat where the waitress told us to, it's not our fault she ended up right behind him. I think it's a matter of polarity or magnetism or one of those other things that tried to kill me in physics.

Am presently soaking in the last of my vacation and missing the balmy California weather (it's sixty-frigging-two degrees here *shudder*) and turning a blind eye toward impending clinical doom for just a little longer. I'm hiding. School can't see me.

Spent a lovely afternoon munching burgers and shooting the breeze with cc_lemon in her not-messy-thank-you-very-much home. ;P Poor Yuki never surfaced, between vacuum cleaners, new visitors and whatever else it is that distracts kitties (this is assuming that they really need reasons to be distracted), but I might get another chance to spy him when we depart for AX next week.

All pause for a moment of w00t. Yes.

And now, because it amuses me:




What amazes me as I look at the code here is that they seem to have built all the little color-gradients using tables. I thought I was bad with table-overkill...

...it would also appear that I'd best just stick to being a tease. I can do that.

Still, it's a fun quiz and it has animal pictures, so why not:


Your Patronus is the Badger! The badger is a symbol
of aggressiveness, passion and drive. He is
also the mascot for Hufflepuff. As your
Patronus, the Badger will bite and claw to
protect you. Congratulations!

That your Patronus is a badger says that you are
very driven in whatever you do. When you enjoy
something, you go at it with all of your heart.
Unfortunately, you also tend to be aggressive,
and this can lead to a bossy attitude. Try to
keep that aggression in check, and you'll be a
wonderful witch or wizard!


What is Your Patronus? Version 1
brought to you by Quizilla

So I'm short, wide, aggressive, occasionally violent and vaguely musky. Nice. All I need to do is find someone whose patronus is a mushroom and we can put a song together...

There's a lovely rainstorm raging about outside, which has brought to my attention the fact that Gish is the first cat I've ever met that enjoys watching thunderstorms. Nothing but a screen door between her and the elements, and she's fascinated. I gots a special kitty, I do.

My life runs in three-week intervals now. The first time I didn't update in three weeks, it was because I was away at sheep farms with no internet access and a rather stiff back. This last three weeks, it's been because foals and a baby alpaca were running me utterly ragged--if I do anything this weekend but sleep, it'll have to be something awfully good.

On the upside, I have alpaca-diapering skills now, and you can't get those just anywhere. Hooray for Survivor the Sockmonkey!

Am now doing small animal dermatology, which means it's only a matter of time before I catch ringworm (dermatophytosis if you're a dork, which I am) from something. Much with the client-interactions, frightening as they are. At least none of them has hit on me yet; I guess small animal folks are just a little more reserved about that sort of thing. It's almost a shame...if they strike first, I get to strike back and watch them blanch at the mention of neutering.

It takes very little to keep me entertained these days.

Speaking of entertainment, I've finally come to terms with my loserness and bought a movie ticket online to go see a movie all by my lonesome on a Sunday afternoon. The way I figure it, well...it's Harry Potter. There's no way that I will be the biggest dork there.

Ha.

Okay, so I decided against the snake; the way I figure it, if I'm still seriously waffling after three to four weeks, I probably shouldn't go ahead with it. This was not a problem for what essentially took its place in my menagerie...degus! Two 11-week-old female degus from a classmate's unintended litter (she rescued a female who was already pregnant), to be more specific. Their names are Victoria and Muffy--there is (are) one (maybe two) people on the face of the planet that will get that joke. They're a bit skittish yet, simply adore their running wheel, make very interesting sounds to themselves while watching me [try to] sleep at night, and are undeniably too small for the cage I'd originally bought to house them.

Whoops.

This is what they've got in the interim; amazing what one can slap together with hardware cloth, a plastic bin, a pair of pliers and an afternoon of hand-crimping manual labor.

Also amazing how completing one project can get one all psyched up to start others; shame I had to wait until the end of my vacation to reach this little revelation. Next time...

So I've been on vacation for a week now, and I swear I just went to bed Monday and woke up Friday. 's what it feels like, anyhow. Three weeks of being on-call for emergency (read: 5 pm - 8 am shifts, when they aren't just 24 hours on-call) has turned my sleep/wake cycle right upside down. I finally managed to fall asleep around 8:00 this morning and woke in the afternoon. I'll be lucky if I even notice daylight savings.

...so this is vacation. I had a list of things to do, most of them boring and many involving the fact that I never quite got around to really unpacking when I moved in here back in January. Efficient I am not, at least not about my living space. It's just plain silly when you have to motivate yourself like a little kid: "Okay, if I put all my clothes away, I can have another go at setting up the wireless router..."

Finally, doortoriver, you really have to call off your muse. I think I pissed him off, and he's just being mean now.