Writer’s block 2015

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No chip on my shoulder
It’s more of a writer’s block
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
But what if my art is in shock?

I’ve been blessed with the martial art of the pen/
A high level disciple, not yet master
But I can’t find where my lyrical form should begin/
Not being able to express oneself should be a sin/

For years now I’ve bled ink
Creating universes with only the muscles in my hand/
Or penning verses colder than an Olympic ice rink/
With written media, on top is where I stand/

All this power literally in my fingertips/
Yet I can’t write
My creativity is off on one of its trips
Leaving my to ponder how to stop my writers block with all my might/

Poetic Ice

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Things Vet Techs Don’t Like Volume 12

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It’s me Poetic Ice again, and this volume isn’t like the others. It’s more serious. Every technician has probably been through this and understands what this post is about. With that said, let’s get into it.

Loss of a loved one

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The cute little five year old rug rat pictured above is my own Dachshund named Diva. The queen of cuddles, the craver of chicken, and the  bane of bath time! My dachshund was never a dog, she didn’t get the memo. She was a person who had an enormous amount of hair.

I got her from my sister after my then fiancee begged, pleaded, and finally convinced me to get her. She was the first serious mutual commitment we had together. She meant the world to us. She also came at a time when I was taking vet assistant classes so she was my study buddy/test dummy. I learned a lot with this pup at my side.  After getting into the Veterinary profession and learning a lot about our long friend I took every possible measure to prevent her from having any kind of back issue. I gave her plenty of controlled (safe) exercise, gave her a good diet to prevent excessive weight gain, and TRIED to prevent her from jumping on everything possible. For five years I had this battle won. She was the healthiest little runt around.

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But a couple weeks ago my word changed, as my efforts proved all for naught. I to this day don’t know how my puppy was hurt, but she must have had an accident outside playing because she started showing signs of Intervertebral Disc Disease. Her back was hunched and she couldn’t lift her head up. I took her to my job to get her examined and the diagnosis was made. The normal treatment track was taken then. Muscle relaxers, steroids, and pain medications. Strict cage rest and leash walks only. For the next three weeks we played the awful game of wait and see. Every day she would either scream in pain all day, or seem like she’s getting better. All the while no matter how much pain she was in she would wag her tail and be happy to see my wife and I. No matter how my pup felt she was trying to he happy for us. This made it all the more worse being a Vet Tech. I knew nothing short of a surgery I couldn’t afford would help her, but I’ve seen pets take this route and improve. That just wasn’t the case this time.

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Her condition kept worsening so my wife and I made the hardest decision we’ve ever had to. We brought her to my job to be relieved of her suffering. Thanks to my amazing coworkers this was easier, but it was still hard. It was hard as hell to do. I’ve done this process from the other side for years, and have probably become somewhat desensitized. That scar tissue of desensitization was ripped off and I was a fresh open wound of emotion again. My wife and I are still reeling from the event. I’ve even been affected at work. I witnessed an emergency humane euthanasia, and felt like I was going through it all over again. Whatever edge I had over the years is gone currently. The pit of my stomach held a feeling I couldn’t understand until writing this. It was a feeling of despair from not being able to save my own pet, yet I clock in everyday to do just that for others. But that isn’t it, it’s the despair fighting against my passion for this job, and the love I had for my own lovable Diva.  It’s a moment of intense sadness that’s combating against years of joyful memories and experiences. sadness and despair that will turn to lessons in life, and won’t leave me defeated for too long. My Diva wouldn’t want that, if she found me like this she be busy shoving her wet nose in my face and licking me non-stop.

But it still hurts… and It’s one major thing Vet Techs Don’t Like.

-Poetic Ice

-If you have experienced a loss of a loved one, my heart goes out to you. I pray you get through your dark times, I hope we get through them together.

 

Things Vet Techs Don’t Like: Volume 11

Welcome back, yet again It’s time for Things Vet Techs Don’t Like!!

It’s been a long long while since I’ve wrote one of these, I apologize for that. As you may or may not know I’m an author and poet and have been focused on other projects, but things still irk me

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Vet Wrap
Now vet wrap is an amazing invention created for the sack of mandating wounds. I just have a few minor annoyances.
1. When you open up a new roll and find it was smoothed over by Loki the trickster God and you can’t find the starting point. Pure rage pours out of me when this happens especially when I have to wrap up a bad dog my teammates are holding that’s growing more satanic by the moment.

2. The no chew aspect of it. Apparently they are coated with a chemical with a foul taste to discourage animals from ripping it off. The lab tech’s who invented this have never met a neurotic dog with anxiety issues. Nothing short of a cone/muzzle/chemical restraint is going to stop them. It’s like an advertised lie lol.

3. When you learn what the no chew chemical taste like. I had a run in with an untrained dog that decided to rip some flesh off my arm, so I had to bandage myself up. I work the emergency shift which is code for skeletal crew so I bandaged my arm on my own initially. I chlorhexed my arm, applied son SSD cream a telfa pad then started to wrap with vet wrap. I then ripped it with my teeth without thinking…..

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My face upon tasting

I tasted this horrid chemical for the next four days. FOUR DAYS!!! No amount of scrubbing short of stripping my lips of skin could save me.

Doctors
As a proud veterinary medicine professional I can proudly say we don’t like going to the doctor. We hate having a reason to go to the doctor, but sometimes things happen I.e.

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Tiny little scrap

Now that scrap was nothing, but did burn like a mother. But if it was a bit deeper it could have been serious. Being hurt impairs us from doing our jobs. If we have to go to the doctor We listen to their game plans and come up with our own treatment alternatives. And Lord forbid we have to be hospitalized because after a full career of putting in catheters and restraining pets you feel like it’s cosmic karma mocking you when you have to get one placed.

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Defeat
This is a serious one here. The despicable low feeling of complete and utter defeat. One that can only be achieved when you invest your heart and soul in a case and you lose the pet on the operating table. In those quick dire moments what you run for the epinephrine and the rebreather but nothing works. When you grow tired from chest compressions when doing CPR, and you feel it in your gut that this fuzzy family member’s soul just left its body. Its moments like this that make you want to fall out and give up, but you don’t. You pick yourself up and dry your eyes and you carry the memory of this pet as you move on to save another. Yes you grow stronger, but you don’t forget, and that feeling will always be a bitch, but a bitch you learn to live with.

Well that’s it foe volume 11, more to come in the future.