I dont make new years resolutions. I decided some time ago that resolutions arent for me.......maybe it was the fifth year of trying to quit smoking, stop drinking Coke, or just the way it made me feel like a giant piece of crap when I failed again and again. I started making new years GOALS. This year I had an oddly diverse list of goals for 2012. I realized just how oddly diverse they were as I was sitting on the couch watching a youtube video teaching me to crochet (my first goal) and also talking to my husband about signing up for a conceal and carry course at Cabellas (my second goal). He found it odd. I am happy to announce I am now a crocheter(is that a word?) and the proud owner of a new gun. ( haven't taken that conceal and carry course yet so watch out!) Other goals on my list were pretty generic and random; learn to say no to more people other than my kids, stand up for myself more, be a better wife (still working on that one) and to find something I am passionate about (outside of my family) and pursue it. In other words, I need to quit living to impress others and make them happy and just get a life of my own.
I have been faced with a very emotional and heartbreaking situation at work. There is no way to be funny about this situation. Someone I care very deeply for, and respect.....or used to respect , has shown me she is losing her battle being an addict. I dont have experience with addicts of any kind (other than listening to Dr. Drew) so I knew very little about what my role as a friend would be. I have tried being a friend, being supportive and suggesting said person seeks help. I failed miserably. I have come to the devastating conclusion that the only way I can help her........is to stop helping her. I am enabling her. I have been enabling her for more than five years. Making excuses, expressing my sympathy and understanding and making her believe it is okay. Its not okay. Last week was my breaking point. As hard as it was to do, I told her our friendship was over. I am tired of caring so much for someone who expects me to just sit aside and watch her die. The only way she is going to change is to have consequences for her actions, and I wasn't giving her any consequences. I was reinforcing her lifestyle because I felt sorry for her. It doesn't matter what kind of a life you were dealt, a healthy person seeks help. She is not healthy. I wait.......every day...........for that phone call that confirms my worst fears. The only way for me to help her.......is to watch her hit rock bottom and help her back up to face a life of sobriety. Tomorrow will be the first day I face the person who has been my mentor and friend for a decade. Tomorrow I face a new person, someone who is no longer my friend, someone who is an addict.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
When good pet owners go bad
I guess I started this blog, really, to have a place to vent and document the ridiculous stuff I deal with working at a veterinary ER. Some of the stories will not be my own, only legends of events that have happened during the days of the week when I was not present. We (the staff at the ER) have said some pretty ridiculously funny things of our own, usually because we are dealing with some really 'special' people. One of my favorites has to be the night my fellow coworker, Mandy, answered the phone to a distressed individual that had found an orphaned rabbit in their backyard. We'll call this individual Panicked Patty, or PP for short. PP didn't know what she should do, she couldn't believe a mother rabbit would leave her young so defenseless and alone in her backyard. Why would she do such a thing? When could we come out and pick up this tiny little creature in an ambulance and get him the help he needs? Of course she couldn't bring him in! Its just a rabbit! She isn't driving that far just to save a rabbit! What do you mean you wont come over and help this poor creature? What I am supposed to do, sit here and watch it DIE?! How horrible! How is she supposed to just sit there and watch this innocent furry little animal (whom she wouldn't donate 4 gallons of unleaded gasoline to) DIE?! Thirty minutes later Mandy calmly and straight faced told her if she didn't want to watch the rabbit die......then she should put it under a bush and go inside. When I heard the story I did that laugh. You know the one, where you clap like a mentally handicapped seal and no sound comes out. (Thanks Max for that perfect description of the laugh we all know we do but have no words to explain it.) Sure it sounds cold and heartless, but when you have three other phone lines ringing in your ear, dogs dying all around you and more pouring through the door every minute you are on the phone with PP.....I think it was a reasonable resolution to all of our problems.
Last night someone called me at the ER because her dog was sick. She used to work at a veterinary hospital so she knew what to do. She had given the dog a peroxide enema (duh!) but now the dog was vomiting. I don't know what makes owners think they have the right to stick something up their dogs ass. I don't care how sick your dog is, if your only collective thought tells you to put something up his butt I would drop the dog off at a the nearest shelter and seek professional help.
Later that night the above mentioned couple arrived at the ER. The peroxide enemas weren't helping and the dog was still vomiting and now had diarrhea that was bloody and fizzing like a soda. (from the peroxide enema) I couldn't get over how normal they looked. The same person standing before me in her Ugg boots, perfect mascara and Kathy Van Zeeland handbag had just committed the most ridiculous act I had ever heard of. (well thats not true, people have done worse.) She was distraught, Fluffy was her baby and she could NOT lose him. We were instructed to do everything we needed to do to make her dog well again. After a few routine tests and some supportive care, her dog was close to walking out of our clinic good as new. Ready to put the entire enema incident behind him knowing he could have done worse for owners. The only thing left to do was settle up with me up front and pay for their services. When I presented them with their $250 bill I noticed immediately no one went to reach for a wallet or really even acknowledged I had spoken. When they met my eyes they looked shocked that I was requesting payment for saving Fluffys life and asked to have their charges billed to them. I calmly explained we don't finance their pets care, and that payment was due at the time the services were rendered. (I may have also pointed to the 20X30 inch signthat was hanging on the wall that reiterated my statement .) In other words, pay me now and leave so I (along with Fluffy) could forget this ever happened. Needless to say they walked out of my clinic with a dog on the mend and having not paid a cent for all of our hard work. Sigh. This isn't a new phenomenon in the ER business but this chick took it to an all new level. Not only was the phone number she called from not her own, the address she wrote on the paperwork was incorrect as well. The only thing I can hope for at the end of the day is that this dog had explosive bloody diarrhea all over her Chevy Tahoe and that she has cloth, not leather.
Last night someone called me at the ER because her dog was sick. She used to work at a veterinary hospital so she knew what to do. She had given the dog a peroxide enema (duh!) but now the dog was vomiting. I don't know what makes owners think they have the right to stick something up their dogs ass. I don't care how sick your dog is, if your only collective thought tells you to put something up his butt I would drop the dog off at a the nearest shelter and seek professional help.
Later that night the above mentioned couple arrived at the ER. The peroxide enemas weren't helping and the dog was still vomiting and now had diarrhea that was bloody and fizzing like a soda. (from the peroxide enema) I couldn't get over how normal they looked. The same person standing before me in her Ugg boots, perfect mascara and Kathy Van Zeeland handbag had just committed the most ridiculous act I had ever heard of. (well thats not true, people have done worse.) She was distraught, Fluffy was her baby and she could NOT lose him. We were instructed to do everything we needed to do to make her dog well again. After a few routine tests and some supportive care, her dog was close to walking out of our clinic good as new. Ready to put the entire enema incident behind him knowing he could have done worse for owners. The only thing left to do was settle up with me up front and pay for their services. When I presented them with their $250 bill I noticed immediately no one went to reach for a wallet or really even acknowledged I had spoken. When they met my eyes they looked shocked that I was requesting payment for saving Fluffys life and asked to have their charges billed to them. I calmly explained we don't finance their pets care, and that payment was due at the time the services were rendered. (I may have also pointed to the 20X30 inch signthat was hanging on the wall that reiterated my statement .) In other words, pay me now and leave so I (along with Fluffy) could forget this ever happened. Needless to say they walked out of my clinic with a dog on the mend and having not paid a cent for all of our hard work. Sigh. This isn't a new phenomenon in the ER business but this chick took it to an all new level. Not only was the phone number she called from not her own, the address she wrote on the paperwork was incorrect as well. The only thing I can hope for at the end of the day is that this dog had explosive bloody diarrhea all over her Chevy Tahoe and that she has cloth, not leather.
Its been an emotional week
Well we've started off the year with the loss of a beloved (not really) family member. Our last living cat, Peyton, passed away last night from..........something bad. While it is always sad when a pet dies, I cant say I will miss replacing the carpet. Its been a rough week. I have successfully stuck to my guns about never telling my children a lie about what happens to their pets. You know....the old "your dog went to live on a farm" bit. My parents did that to me when I was a kid.......and I still freaking resent them for it. I remember being in elementary school when my beloved dog "Prissy" was "missing" when I came home from school one day. I remember looking for her, and I remember calling her name for months when I was outdoors playing. Hoping for some miracle like in the movies that she would come running from a field and leap into my arms. Never happened. Years went by and I forgot about that scrappy little dog. I also vividly remember the night we were sitting around watching tv with our entire family when we got the phone call. You really couldn't tell from the sound of my mothers voice if someone had died or if it was Ed McMahan calling with good news. I just remember someone showing up at the door and handing them Prissy. It was an effing Christmas miracle. Years later I would learn my parents gave her away. They decided they didn't want her anymore.......and unlucky for my parents......her new owners had remembered where we lived. I believe "Prissy" was the smelliest, most yappy, annoying dog anyone could imagine, and she lived for about 15 more years. Karma? I believe so. Again.......I'm over it.......really........its just.......irritating.
I cant say my nose didn't grow just a little as I gathered my little ones to break the news of our kitty's demise. I told them she was dead, of course, but I didn't tell them I had her put to sleep. I told them she died. See......when an animals dies around here it seems like they always go for one last ride in mommy's van and never come home. Pretty soon my kids are going to be afraid to go anywhere with me or let the dog go to the groomers. I am sick of driving a hearse, so I told them she died. There, I said it, I LIED! Its not a big lie, but I didn't come out of this deal clean like I had hoped. I had been practicing all night how I would tenderly break the news, researching online how to best let them down easy and vowing to keep my composure as I watched their tiny little tears escape from their eyes. Maybe I would have to take them to school late and give them time to grieve, maybe they would be SO upset they would have to stay home and mourn our loss privately as a family. I'm not sure if anyone even stopped eating their cereal. There were no tears other than my own. As I walked into the bathroom to dry my eyes and blow my nose I overheard my son walk into the bathroom, look at his dad and say "Hey dad,......your cat is dead" and walk out. I'm a little worried about them.
I cant say my nose didn't grow just a little as I gathered my little ones to break the news of our kitty's demise. I told them she was dead, of course, but I didn't tell them I had her put to sleep. I told them she died. See......when an animals dies around here it seems like they always go for one last ride in mommy's van and never come home. Pretty soon my kids are going to be afraid to go anywhere with me or let the dog go to the groomers. I am sick of driving a hearse, so I told them she died. There, I said it, I LIED! Its not a big lie, but I didn't come out of this deal clean like I had hoped. I had been practicing all night how I would tenderly break the news, researching online how to best let them down easy and vowing to keep my composure as I watched their tiny little tears escape from their eyes. Maybe I would have to take them to school late and give them time to grieve, maybe they would be SO upset they would have to stay home and mourn our loss privately as a family. I'm not sure if anyone even stopped eating their cereal. There were no tears other than my own. As I walked into the bathroom to dry my eyes and blow my nose I overheard my son walk into the bathroom, look at his dad and say "Hey dad,......your cat is dead" and walk out. I'm a little worried about them.
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