Last semester was the best semester ever. You can tell this because I hardly updated this blog, which means I had nothing to complain about, ha ha.
My favorite course, by far, since starting vet school has been clinical pathology, wherein you learn to interpret things like blood work, urinalyses, etc. The beauty of the class, for me, was the fact that it all had clinical relevance. There was very little “Why do we have to learn this?” and a lot of “That’s so cool!”
Another upside to the class was that the emphasis was not on memorization and regurgitation, but rather the application of a small set of facts to solving a problem. In other words, clinical reasoning, the kind of thing I am really good at.
At any rate, that class, plus the fact that most my other classes were somewhat more clinically relevant than my freshman classes, made this past semester fantastic. It probably didn’t hurt that I got off my butt and joined a gym, too. Exercising regularly did wonders for my mood and stress level.
Enter sophomore year, round 2. Widely regarded by the classes ahead of me to be the worst semester of vet school. Why? Time will tell. It might have something to do with the fact that we start class at 8 a.m. every day and are there until 3 p.m. every day, if not later. It might have to do with the fact that it’s 24 credit hours. Maybe it’s just the fact that we have to suffer through still one more semester of classroom-only work before we get to see real patients.
Whatever it is, I’m not really looking forward to it all that much, mostly because I am savoring my last few days of vacation and productivity in other areas of my life.
These are the times you have to remind yourself just how bad you wanted to get into vet school.
Jan 13, 2012 | | School Daze
That last final exam I had to take was the worst testing experience of my entire twenty-one years’ worth of schooling. By far. It would have been bad even without losing Mr. Tabby; with it, it was unbearable. I’ve never taken an exam before where I honestly had no idea whether I would pass at all.
After the exam, I had more cleaning to do at the rental, and then I had to head home and pack, and the next day I was on a plane. Where was my time to grieve?
As difficult as it was after that experience to hop on a plane and go spend two weeks with complete strangers, it turned out to be the most therapeutic thing I could have done. Instead of sitting at home and feeling Mr. Tabby’s absence acutely, I was thrown headlong into a very challenging learning experience with no time at all for self-pity. And I got to interact with hundreds of animals, which in itself is therapeutic. (I’ll give more details about that trip in a later post.)
After I came home, the worst of the pain had subsided, I think, but losing a loved one is a lot like having a scab. Sometimes the pain is barely noticeable, and sometimes something rips it off, and it becomes fresh and raw all over again. Over time, though, those somethings become further apart, and the scab heals a little more until the pain is finally gone, but the memory, like a scar, is always there.
The wound was fresh and raw the day I Googled cremation jewelry; at that moment I felt a compelling need to keep him with me all the time. The wound was raw the day I got his ashes back, tied up with the metal tag that I’d placed on his foot. Except now the tag was blackened and charred.
There are happier moments, though, too. Cat Mandu, whom I would have called very set in her ways, has taken up loping around the stairwell when her meals are being prepared, something Mr. Tabby used to do. It reminds me of him, and makes me smile.
Whenever I open the downstairs closet where he lived for so long, I think about seeing his cute little face tucked among the blankets.
And when we talk about things like lymphoma and PCVs in school, I touch the little moon-shaped necklace I sometimes wear to remind me of him.
The fourth-year student who worked on Mr. Tabby’s case had told me that I wasn’t crazy for pursuing treatment. If anything, he said, I would learn a lot more about cancer than I’d learn in class, so it would be money well spent. He was right about that.
What I didn’t expect was discovering just how far in love you can fall with a handsome little Maine Coon cat who used to live in the back of your closet. No one can prepare you for that.
I miss you, Tabs.
Oct 11, 2011 | | Animal Tales
Up until then, the only experience I’d had with euthanasia was from the veterinary perspective, not the client perspective. Still, having witnessed this process so many times before certainly made it much, much easier. I didn’t have to process any of the technical details.
I was taken to a comfy little room with a sofa and a year’s supply of Kleenex, then left alone to say my final goodbyes. What was there to say? It was more important just to be, to hold his little head in the crook of my arm one more time.
I sang him his little lullaby again. “Bubsy’s boat’s a silver moon, sailing in the sky, sailing o’er a sea of dreams, as the clouds drift by… Sail, Bubsy, sail, out across the sea, only don’t forget to sail back again to me.” I had trouble getting the last few words out.
Read the rest of this entry »
Oct 10, 2011 | | Animal Tales
March flew by, then April, and then the homestretch of my freshman year was upon me. I was frantically studying for exams, and dealing with losing one renter and gaining another. I was also tweaking Mr. Tabby’s chemo schedule so that I could be gone for two weeks with the Humane Society Veterinary Medical Association on a spay/neuter trip, which started the day after finals.
I thought about backing out of the trip, but I’d been planning on it for a while before Mr. Tabby got sick, and I knew it would be a fabulous opportunity. Still, I had one eye on the door just in case I needed to bail out.
About two weeks before finals, I looked over and saw Mr. Tabby snoozing peacefully in the sun, and, for the millionth time, I was really, really happy that I’d started chemo. Mr. Tabby seemed to be in better spirits than he’d ever been. But something made me grab my camera and start snapping as many pictures of him as I could.
Read the rest of this entry »
Oct 09, 2011 | | Animal Tales
In March, Mr. Tabby decided to start eating less and start puking more. This is never a good thing, but I wasn’t really anticipating how much of a not good thing it was.
The vet discovered a mass in his abdomen, and gave the tentative diagnosis of GI lymphoma, a disease about which I knew nothing at the time. My options were to give him prednisone to keep him comfy until died, or to get a firm diagnosis and possibly initiate chemotherapy.
I chose the latter, partially because, with vet student perks, the treatment would almost be affordable for me, and partially because, if you’ll recall, Mr. Tabby only came out his closet 5 months before. FIVE MONTHS! This was not fair, and I wanted to give the little guy a fighting chance.
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Oct 08, 2011 | | Animal Tales
One of our professors was discussing thrombocytopenia (low platelets) this week, and said it was a little bit like bankaccountopenia, which, as vet students, we would all be familiar with.
Oh, so sad, but true. This is one of the especially difficult parts about being a non-traditional student. I used to make decent money, and now… now I don’t even itemize deductions on my income taxes because my outflow is so much higher than my inflow, and I don’t want the IRS to flag my returns.
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Oct 07, 2011 | | School Daze
What plant causes more cattle deaths than any other plant in the US each year?
This is what our toxicology professor asked us on day one.
**crickets**
“You really have to be thinking about the question,” he said.
And finally, someone got it:
A slaughter plant.
Aug 28, 2011 | | Stupid Vet Jokes
School started last Monday with some genius’ idea of a good time: an eight hour test over everything we learned last year. EVERYTHING WE LEARNED LAST YEAR!
This monstrosity, the “Capstone,” was supposedly created in response to some former students’ complaints that they didn’t feel as though they had enough practice for the NAVLE (the national board exam). Well, fie on you, former unnamed students! Your crapstone was a seriously horrible pain in the patooti that did absolutely nothing positive for me.
First of all, how do you even begin to study an entire year’s worth of material? By procrastinating until two days before because the task seems too overwhelming, that’s how! Read the rest of this entry »
Aug 28, 2011 | | School Daze
I went to my first ever cat show yesterday. A smallish, regional affair, with maybe 100 or so contestants. And… wow.
First of all, I had no idea that there are actually people out there who would pay upwards of $2,000 for a purebred cat. Worse yet, I had no idea there were breeders out there who would try to sell a purebred cat WITH AN UPPER RESPIRATORY TRACT INFECTION, for crying out loud, for upwards of $2,000.
The whole thing just made me sad… there are so many thousands of kitties out there who need homes, and here people are spending thousands upon thousands of dollars breeding and trading them. I just don’t get it. Well, I get the part about maintaining certain breeds. But appreciating the finer characteristics of a breed is one thing, while purchasing a cat-shaped accessory is altogether different. *sigh*
At the show, there were rows upon rows of cats in carriers. Not your standard carriers, mind you, but carriers that allowed passersby to see the cats inside in all their glory. The brand of choice seemed to be Sturdi Products, such as this one: Read the rest of this entry »
Jun 20, 2011 | | Animal Tales
Worst. Semester. Ever.
That pretty much sums up how I feel about the last few months of my life, which culminated in the worst week of my life.
But it’s summer, now, and things are back to quasi-normal. I’ll catch you up on the horribleness in a bit.
For now, we return to our regularly scheduled programming.
Jun 20, 2011 | | Miscellany
