You guys, I'm currently working at a university, and that means:
1) About 85-90% of my work conversations include some permutation of the phrase: "But did you read the paper/study that showed (whatever)?"
Usually this is followed by, "No," which is then followed by "I'll send it to you/print it for you."
2) Everyone is very, very impressed if you can quote the authors when you're quoting a study to prove a point. At this point, I'm just excited if I can remember the study.
3) Stuuuuuuudents! Vet students are awesome. But seriously, you guys:
- Someone may care if you appear to be fire-stormingly fascinated with (whatever rotation you're on), but that person is not me. I know that those of you who are gonna be cow vets are probably about as interested in the intimate details of the canine cutaneous mast cell tumor prognostic panel as I am in the intimate details of synching herd ovulation: not much. You don't have to fake it.
- Don't let anyone make you feel small if you don't know the answer to a question. There is so much to know that you cannot possibly know it all. BUT it totally behooves you to look that shit up and recon with the person who was quizzing you when you DO know the answer.
- Sleep is really, really important. Take advantage of all opportunities to sleep. Sleeping is magical.
4) Ultrasounds take at least 45 minutes, sometimes over an hour. Also, everyone looks at you like it's your fault when the sedation wears off or the patient loses patience.
5) Appointments regularly take 6+ hours. I am not even kidding. If you're bringing your pet to a university for a consult, plan for it to be a day's event.
6) The anesthesia department is absolutely not fucking around. Neither is the ICU staff.
7) Some sort of conference, thesis defense, or guest lecture is always happening. I get e-mails about all of them. Sometimes there is food involved.
8) There are six or seven different on-call schedules for various situations that may happen in the night or over a weekend. They are all posted in different places and are varying degrees of accurate.
9) A parade of work-study students and residents wander by the oncology department at regular intervals. They ask for blood and/or urine samples from particular patients who have diseases that are relevant to their research.
10) There is so much hand sanitizer.
Showing posts with label vet school advice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vet school advice. Show all posts
internship tips: food friday edition
Hi there everyone!
Today we're gonna talk about a vet school phenomenon with which you may be familiar:
FOOD FRIDAY!
Yes.
Food Friday is a tradition that exists at many vet schools where every Friday, each rotation organizes a potluck lunch of sorts. Everyone is assigned/chooses a dish to bring, and then each service has their own private buffet.
Yesterday at my current place of employment, the oncology service had burrito bowls, cardiology had nachos, radiology had french toast breakfast, and I'm not sure what medicine and surgery were doing.
As delicious as this sounds, it can be problematic:
- Allergies/dietary preferences are challenging. What do you do when that one kid on your rotation is gluten-free and lactose-intolerant? Heeeey rice and beans for the win!
- Interns and vet students (on average) have small to nonexistent salaries. This can make compulsory food-buying every Friday taxing on the wallet, especially if you're buying a particular ingredient that you won't be able to use again.
My favorite kind of Food Friday is the kind where everyone brings whatever they want, if they want to. That way they amount of dollars and time invested is purely voluntary, and no one has to go buy fresh basil and make a pot of quinoa (or whatever) every Friday.
So! Moral of the story: if you're ever in charge of organizing Food Friday, be sure no one feels pressured to participate. Also, don't feel like you have to be in on the plan if you're really not up for it (financially or otherwise). No one can make you make quinoa without your consent!
Today we're gonna talk about a vet school phenomenon with which you may be familiar:
FOOD FRIDAY!
 |
| thanks catercow.blogspot.com |
Yes.
Food Friday is a tradition that exists at many vet schools where every Friday, each rotation organizes a potluck lunch of sorts. Everyone is assigned/chooses a dish to bring, and then each service has their own private buffet.
Yesterday at my current place of employment, the oncology service had burrito bowls, cardiology had nachos, radiology had french toast breakfast, and I'm not sure what medicine and surgery were doing.
As delicious as this sounds, it can be problematic:
- Allergies/dietary preferences are challenging. What do you do when that one kid on your rotation is gluten-free and lactose-intolerant? Heeeey rice and beans for the win!
- Interns and vet students (on average) have small to nonexistent salaries. This can make compulsory food-buying every Friday taxing on the wallet, especially if you're buying a particular ingredient that you won't be able to use again.
My favorite kind of Food Friday is the kind where everyone brings whatever they want, if they want to. That way they amount of dollars and time invested is purely voluntary, and no one has to go buy fresh basil and make a pot of quinoa (or whatever) every Friday.
So! Moral of the story: if you're ever in charge of organizing Food Friday, be sure no one feels pressured to participate. Also, don't feel like you have to be in on the plan if you're really not up for it (financially or otherwise). No one can make you make quinoa without your consent!
internship tips: navigating the match edition, part two
Hi there everyone!
So you've decided you want to sign up for the match. Congratulations (sort of)! Next comes the part where you sift through the hundreds (yes) of potential internships and decide which ones might be for you. Here are some hints to help you with that:
1. Sit down with yourself and figure out why you're doing an internship.
If you are doing an internship as a prerequisite for a residency, know that academic internships and fancy/famous private practice internships (read: the AMC, Angell Memorial, etc.) are rumored to better your chances for matching to a residency.
This is because these institutions are well-established, (usually) well-respected, and oftentimes have residencies in various specialties as well. Some institutions take their own rotating interns back as residents (hey, the devil you know...), and some prefer not to do that.
The tradeoff is that your hours will be unbelievably, potently terrible, and you will (probably) spend a large amount of time watching other people do cool things instead of doing them yourself. It will be so crowded at the operating table.
If your goal is to learn how to be a veterinarian in a practical sense so you can be a solid general practitioner or ER doctor, I would strongly consider a solid private practice internship. You will (usually) see more cases, get more hands-on experience, and get to do more cool things yourself.
I did my rotating internship at a well-established (but not fancy/famous) private practice internship. As such, I spent absurd amounts of time working in the emergency room, saw many many many cases, and got to unblock more cats, enucleate more eyes, do more bone marrow aspirates, drive the bus during more endoscopies, practice more ultrasounds, repair more wounds, figure out more weirdass 4 am puzzles, and help with more dog and cat CPRs than the average academic intern.
At an academic hospital, the chiefs of service are doing their research, seeing some cases, and lecturing. They are also training the residents, the vet students, +/- the specialty interns, and the rotating interns.
At a private practice, the chiefs of service are seeing their cases and teaching...you. You're (usually) not jockeying with a herd of residents, students, and other interns for various opportunities. It is awesome.
2. Next, figure out what factors matter to you.
Some people care about location. Do you want to be on the East Coast? Only in California? Only in places with appropriate attitudes re: the excellent variety of sexualities and gender presentations?
Do you care about having protected days off? What about vacation? Health care (Hint: you should care about these things, especially health care).
What about the percentage of time you'll spend working overnights? Will someone be with you on your overnights? If you're interested in neurology, it's probably important that you have access to a neurologist during your rotating internship.
You can use all of these and more to help you narrow your list of possible options. Be aware that there's no organization that oversees all of these internships and ensures that they treat/train their interns in a reasonable manner. Pretty much any place can register with the match and offer an "internship", which leads us to...
3. Once you have a preliminary list of practices - call, e-mail, visit.
Many places allow you to extern (spend a couple of weeks shadowing) to get a feel for the practice and how it works. If you can, arrange to do this at your top choices. It will be so very worth it.
If you can't extern or visit, make sure to call and speak with your potential boss/intern director and/or a current intern. DO NOT SKIP the "speaking with a current intern" part. Current interns are the most useful resource you have in your quest to determine if any given program is an earnest, enthusiastic training program for new grads, or a shithole salt mine that will tear away at the fabric of your sanity.
Ask the current interns if they like their job. Ask them what they like least about it, and if they would do it again. A favorite mentor of mine says it is easy to damn with faint praise, so be on the lookout for non-committal or evasive answers that are secretly your signal to run. The average intern will be tired, stressed, and out of patience, but if she can't say that the program is fair, forthright, and good training, don't rank it.
You guys, make sure you don't assume anything. Ask.
ALSO! Once more, so you realize how insanely important this is:
DO NOT RANK A PLACE IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO MATCH THERE!
So you've decided you want to sign up for the match. Congratulations (sort of)! Next comes the part where you sift through the hundreds (yes) of potential internships and decide which ones might be for you. Here are some hints to help you with that:
1. Sit down with yourself and figure out why you're doing an internship.
If you are doing an internship as a prerequisite for a residency, know that academic internships and fancy/famous private practice internships (read: the AMC, Angell Memorial, etc.) are rumored to better your chances for matching to a residency.
This is because these institutions are well-established, (usually) well-respected, and oftentimes have residencies in various specialties as well. Some institutions take their own rotating interns back as residents (hey, the devil you know...), and some prefer not to do that.
The tradeoff is that your hours will be unbelievably, potently terrible, and you will (probably) spend a large amount of time watching other people do cool things instead of doing them yourself. It will be so crowded at the operating table.
If your goal is to learn how to be a veterinarian in a practical sense so you can be a solid general practitioner or ER doctor, I would strongly consider a solid private practice internship. You will (usually) see more cases, get more hands-on experience, and get to do more cool things yourself.
I did my rotating internship at a well-established (but not fancy/famous) private practice internship. As such, I spent absurd amounts of time working in the emergency room, saw many many many cases, and got to unblock more cats, enucleate more eyes, do more bone marrow aspirates, drive the bus during more endoscopies, practice more ultrasounds, repair more wounds, figure out more weirdass 4 am puzzles, and help with more dog and cat CPRs than the average academic intern.
At an academic hospital, the chiefs of service are doing their research, seeing some cases, and lecturing. They are also training the residents, the vet students, +/- the specialty interns, and the rotating interns.
At a private practice, the chiefs of service are seeing their cases and teaching...you. You're (usually) not jockeying with a herd of residents, students, and other interns for various opportunities. It is awesome.
2. Next, figure out what factors matter to you.
Some people care about location. Do you want to be on the East Coast? Only in California? Only in places with appropriate attitudes re: the excellent variety of sexualities and gender presentations?
Do you care about having protected days off? What about vacation? Health care (Hint: you should care about these things, especially health care).
What about the percentage of time you'll spend working overnights? Will someone be with you on your overnights? If you're interested in neurology, it's probably important that you have access to a neurologist during your rotating internship.
You can use all of these and more to help you narrow your list of possible options. Be aware that there's no organization that oversees all of these internships and ensures that they treat/train their interns in a reasonable manner. Pretty much any place can register with the match and offer an "internship", which leads us to...
3. Once you have a preliminary list of practices - call, e-mail, visit.
Many places allow you to extern (spend a couple of weeks shadowing) to get a feel for the practice and how it works. If you can, arrange to do this at your top choices. It will be so very worth it.
If you can't extern or visit, make sure to call and speak with your potential boss/intern director and/or a current intern. DO NOT SKIP the "speaking with a current intern" part. Current interns are the most useful resource you have in your quest to determine if any given program is an earnest, enthusiastic training program for new grads, or a shithole salt mine that will tear away at the fabric of your sanity.
Ask the current interns if they like their job. Ask them what they like least about it, and if they would do it again. A favorite mentor of mine says it is easy to damn with faint praise, so be on the lookout for non-committal or evasive answers that are secretly your signal to run. The average intern will be tired, stressed, and out of patience, but if she can't say that the program is fair, forthright, and good training, don't rank it.
You guys, make sure you don't assume anything. Ask.
ALSO! Once more, so you realize how insanely important this is:
DO NOT RANK A PLACE IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO MATCH THERE!
internship tips: navigating the match edition, part one
Hiiii you guys! So you've decided (perhaps via the flow chart in the last post) that you want to do an internship. Hooray!
First, an aside: Large animal (particularly equine) folks, your internships are by and large not organized through the match (some academic ones are). Search the AAEP website, consult with your peers, and do externships AS EARLY AS POSSIBLE in your clinical year. Some crazy folks even do externships before clinical year. You generally have to do an externship (think two weeks at least) at a hospital to be considered for an internship. That is the sum total of what I remember about getting an equine internship before I switched teams, so aaaanyways, the following guide is mostly for small animal internships.
Okay, so almost all small animal internships are applied for and obtained through the AAVC's Veterinary Internship and Residency Matching Program, aka the match. Residencies also (except anatomic pathology, since those folks are on their own drumbeat).
The match is a computer database and...algorithm that tries to match hundreds of internship programs with the candidates that best suit them (and vice versa). Here is a quick and dirty rundown of how it works:
1. In approximately October, you sign up for the match. You choose an initial "tier" to buy, or number of programs you can apply to. At the time of this writing, applying to 10 or fewer programs costs $85, applying to 11-20 programs costs $250, and applying to >21 programs costs $350. You can upgrade at any time, but you cannot downgrade.
2. You have to fill in some information (where you went to school, GPA, class rank, upload resume, upload application essay...) to complete your application package. This is due by approximately December.
3. You also have to get 3-4 (hopefully) smart, influential veterinarians to write you recommendations, all of which are also due by approximately December.
4. You then apply to a number of internship programs (see tier, above), and rank them according to your preference. This rank order list gets finalized at some point and you get an official-looking e-mail to confirm your decision.
5.You panic for two months, during which time the institutions are arranging and finalizing their ranked lists of candidates.
6. In mid-February, Match Day happens. This is when the match algorithm pairs each candidate with their best-suited internship program, as determined by "highest mutual level of preference". There is an explanation on the VIRMP website that is pretty good, but essentially, the institutions make offers (in the running of the algorithm) to their most preferred candidates, and the algorithm moves down the ranked lists until all positions have been filled or all candidates have been "offered" a job.
The intention is that you will match with your highest-ranked program that has a position to offer you, as determined by the programs' ranking of you as a candidate. You will never match with a program that you did not rank, and you will never match with a program that did not rank you.
Here is my first and perhaps most important piece of match advice:
***Do not rank a place where you would not want to go! If in your mind, "no internship" is better than "internship at Shitty Practice", DO NOT RANK "Shitty Practice"!***
7. There are intense, career-altering, being-banned-from-the-match-for-three-years sorts of ramifications for candidates that match to a place and then do not follow through on accepting the internship.
8. If you do not match, you enter a process called "the scramble". This is where all the unmatched candidates and programs desperately try to find each other, like lost lambs and panicked sheep in a crowded sale barn. There are apparently many frantic phone calls, e-mails, and hurried job offers flying back and forth.
Doesn't it sound like fun? Ugh.
First, an aside: Large animal (particularly equine) folks, your internships are by and large not organized through the match (some academic ones are). Search the AAEP website, consult with your peers, and do externships AS EARLY AS POSSIBLE in your clinical year. Some crazy folks even do externships before clinical year. You generally have to do an externship (think two weeks at least) at a hospital to be considered for an internship. That is the sum total of what I remember about getting an equine internship before I switched teams, so aaaanyways, the following guide is mostly for small animal internships.
Okay, so almost all small animal internships are applied for and obtained through the AAVC's Veterinary Internship and Residency Matching Program, aka the match. Residencies also (except anatomic pathology, since those folks are on their own drumbeat).
The match is a computer database and...algorithm that tries to match hundreds of internship programs with the candidates that best suit them (and vice versa). Here is a quick and dirty rundown of how it works:
1. In approximately October, you sign up for the match. You choose an initial "tier" to buy, or number of programs you can apply to. At the time of this writing, applying to 10 or fewer programs costs $85, applying to 11-20 programs costs $250, and applying to >21 programs costs $350. You can upgrade at any time, but you cannot downgrade.
2. You have to fill in some information (where you went to school, GPA, class rank, upload resume, upload application essay...) to complete your application package. This is due by approximately December.
3. You also have to get 3-4 (hopefully) smart, influential veterinarians to write you recommendations, all of which are also due by approximately December.
4. You then apply to a number of internship programs (see tier, above), and rank them according to your preference. This rank order list gets finalized at some point and you get an official-looking e-mail to confirm your decision.
5.You panic for two months, during which time the institutions are arranging and finalizing their ranked lists of candidates.
6. In mid-February, Match Day happens. This is when the match algorithm pairs each candidate with their best-suited internship program, as determined by "highest mutual level of preference". There is an explanation on the VIRMP website that is pretty good, but essentially, the institutions make offers (in the running of the algorithm) to their most preferred candidates, and the algorithm moves down the ranked lists until all positions have been filled or all candidates have been "offered" a job.
The intention is that you will match with your highest-ranked program that has a position to offer you, as determined by the programs' ranking of you as a candidate. You will never match with a program that you did not rank, and you will never match with a program that did not rank you.
Here is my first and perhaps most important piece of match advice:
***Do not rank a place where you would not want to go! If in your mind, "no internship" is better than "internship at Shitty Practice", DO NOT RANK "Shitty Practice"!***
7. There are intense, career-altering, being-banned-from-the-match-for-three-years sorts of ramifications for candidates that match to a place and then do not follow through on accepting the internship.
8. If you do not match, you enter a process called "the scramble". This is where all the unmatched candidates and programs desperately try to find each other, like lost lambs and panicked sheep in a crowded sale barn. There are apparently many frantic phone calls, e-mails, and hurried job offers flying back and forth.
Doesn't it sound like fun? Ugh.
your handy guide to rotations (here), part 2:
Clinical Pathology:
The hours are excellent. The rounds are practical. The lab technicians teach you how to make blood smears, which is much harder than it looks. You get to see the blood smear "Box o' Shame", which includes some truly epic specimens of failure. You will finally be able to differentiate segmented neutrophils from bands (well, sometimes), and learn what a monocyte is.
Dermatology:
Your first day of Derm starts at 12:30. Need I say more? You see patients occasionally. There is almost no busywork. You learn useful things about common skin diseases, and all of the service chiefs are jolly and/or extraordinarily and hilariously strange. There are never any inpatients or emergencies. This is a good rotation to catch up on sleep and study for boards.
Emergency and Critical Care:
The hours are actually not that bad, except for the overnights (which totally blow). I don't know about you, but my brain straight up rejects rational thinking when I'm on a reversed sleep schedule. Fun! The techs are extra badass. You never know what the fuck is going to happen. There will be really slow stretches where you will putz around on VetPrep for six hours, and then seven severely injured and/or dying patients will arrive in the space of five minutes. You will get pissed and shat upon regularly. Bring extra scrubs!
General Practice:
Oooooooh this is a great rotation. You get to do actual surgery. You get to make decisions about patient care. You also do mind-bendingly large amounts of paperwork. The service chief is a quaint and quirky old fellow who knows, um, everything.
Large Animal Medicine:
This one is seasonal. Spring? Septic foaaaaals! Summer? Septic foals, colics, and horses with diarrhea! Fall? More colics! And Potomac Horse Fever! Winter? Not a damn thing. All the time? ADR cows, crias with choanal atresia/failure to thrive, and the calves from all the c-sections. And colitis. You will see some really, really weird shit (lymphoma in a pig, can I get a what what). You will never leave the hospital. More specifically, you will never leave the isolation ward.
Large Animal Orthopedic Surgery:
The doctors are fucking rockstars. You may have six cases at once. Do not feed the wrong hay to the throat horses. You will spend years in the OR wearing lead under your surgery gown if you're doing an arthroscopy. You will get to help put some insane fractures back together. Hope you like racehorses!
Large Animal Soft Tissue Surgery:
Ooooohhhh this is a fun rotation. Mass removals, colic surgery, all the weird dental shit (dental week is a crazy week!), eye surgeries (yes) and wound repairs. Castrations! You will castrate legions of horses. The rounds are fantastic. It is very important to the surgeons that you pass the hemostats with the tips up. TIPS UP, MOTHERFUCKERS! And know your instrument names cold. I am not kidding.
Small Animal Soft Tissue Surgery:
It is almost impossible for the hours to be any worse than they are on this rotation:
***Actual conversation between group of students and chief of service***:
Chief: Okay, so you know we don't have an overnight ER student anymore to give the 2 am doses of hydro to your spay and neuter dogs. This means that you guys will have to come in at 2 am* to dose the dogs yourselves.
Student: Hey, what if we use a pain management protocol that doesn't require 2 am meds?
Chief: Nope, we're going to stick to the way we've always done it. We're** just going to have to suffer. Sorry guys!
*this is after regular 14-16 hour days in the hospital, mind.
**clearly, this chief had some confusion regarding the meaning of pronouns. I refuse to accept "we're" as the correct choice unless she is also in the hospital medicating a rambunctious pit bull at 2 in the morning.
The hours are excellent. The rounds are practical. The lab technicians teach you how to make blood smears, which is much harder than it looks. You get to see the blood smear "Box o' Shame", which includes some truly epic specimens of failure. You will finally be able to differentiate segmented neutrophils from bands (well, sometimes), and learn what a monocyte is.
Dermatology:
Your first day of Derm starts at 12:30. Need I say more? You see patients occasionally. There is almost no busywork. You learn useful things about common skin diseases, and all of the service chiefs are jolly and/or extraordinarily and hilariously strange. There are never any inpatients or emergencies. This is a good rotation to catch up on sleep and study for boards.
Emergency and Critical Care:
The hours are actually not that bad, except for the overnights (which totally blow). I don't know about you, but my brain straight up rejects rational thinking when I'm on a reversed sleep schedule. Fun! The techs are extra badass. You never know what the fuck is going to happen. There will be really slow stretches where you will putz around on VetPrep for six hours, and then seven severely injured and/or dying patients will arrive in the space of five minutes. You will get pissed and shat upon regularly. Bring extra scrubs!
General Practice:
Oooooooh this is a great rotation. You get to do actual surgery. You get to make decisions about patient care. You also do mind-bendingly large amounts of paperwork. The service chief is a quaint and quirky old fellow who knows, um, everything.
Large Animal Medicine:
This one is seasonal. Spring? Septic foaaaaals! Summer? Septic foals, colics, and horses with diarrhea! Fall? More colics! And Potomac Horse Fever! Winter? Not a damn thing. All the time? ADR cows, crias with choanal atresia/failure to thrive, and the calves from all the c-sections. And colitis. You will see some really, really weird shit (lymphoma in a pig, can I get a what what). You will never leave the hospital. More specifically, you will never leave the isolation ward.
Large Animal Orthopedic Surgery:
The doctors are fucking rockstars. You may have six cases at once. Do not feed the wrong hay to the throat horses. You will spend years in the OR wearing lead under your surgery gown if you're doing an arthroscopy. You will get to help put some insane fractures back together. Hope you like racehorses!
Large Animal Soft Tissue Surgery:
Ooooohhhh this is a fun rotation. Mass removals, colic surgery, all the weird dental shit (dental week is a crazy week!), eye surgeries (yes) and wound repairs. Castrations! You will castrate legions of horses. The rounds are fantastic. It is very important to the surgeons that you pass the hemostats with the tips up. TIPS UP, MOTHERFUCKERS! And know your instrument names cold. I am not kidding.
Small Animal Soft Tissue Surgery:
It is almost impossible for the hours to be any worse than they are on this rotation:
***Actual conversation between group of students and chief of service***:
Chief: Okay, so you know we don't have an overnight ER student anymore to give the 2 am doses of hydro to your spay and neuter dogs. This means that you guys will have to come in at 2 am* to dose the dogs yourselves.
Student: Hey, what if we use a pain management protocol that doesn't require 2 am meds?
Chief: Nope, we're going to stick to the way we've always done it. We're** just going to have to suffer. Sorry guys!
*this is after regular 14-16 hour days in the hospital, mind.
**clearly, this chief had some confusion regarding the meaning of pronouns. I refuse to accept "we're" as the correct choice unless she is also in the hospital medicating a rambunctious pit bull at 2 in the morning.
the pen is mightier than the (whatever):
Let's talk about pens.
Pens are obviously necessary, and I lose them all the time. So does everyone else. Mostly they fall out of my pockets, or I set them down somewhere and then forget them. Or a resident takes my pen and never gives it back*.
Occasionally, pens fall into the enterotomy bucket. And sometimes (apparently) this happens:
I'm not entirely sure how. Anyway! I've developed some rules about pens.
Alacrity's Six Rules of Pen Management and Lending:
1. Have multiple pens. The composition of a good pen-stable is outlined herein:
2. At least one should be your "good pen" - the one that always works, feels good in your hand, and never explodes in your pocket. Guard this pen closely. My good pen is a Pilot G2 Gel Ink Retractable Fine Point (0.7 mm) pen. NEVER LEND YOUR GOOD PEN TO ANYONE. Others should not know that you have a good pen. It is a mythical creature that only appears to write sympathy cards or take notes in rounds when you want them to be legible. This rule is nonnegotiable. Keep the good pen in a separate pocket if you need to. It does not leave your person.
3. Two (or more) should be "average pens" - these are acceptable, functional pens, but they are decidedly not in the league of awesome. Mine are free pens from the bank and the urgent care center. You can lend these pens to others, but only if they need it for a second and/or are highly trustworthy.
4. Lastly, have a truly shitty pen. This pen either feels really awkward in your hand or is otherwise irritating to use in some way. It should at least nominally work, because this is your first-in-line pen to lend to people who are likely to steal it. While you don't want to (in good faith) lend a high-risk candidate a totally non-functional pen, you should by all means lend out the pen that you'd most like to cull from the pen-herd.
5. When lending pens, do your best to supervise their use. Ask for them back (yes, even from the chief of service). If a repeat borrower has stolen pens in the past, they get the shitty pen (if they get lent a pen at all).
6. Do not set your pens down in public spaces. An unattended pen is a free pen!
*One of the ophtho residents is a renowned pen-stealer. My pen was gone within the first five minutes of seeing appointments on the first day of the rotation. The ophtho tech purchases a steady supply of pens particularly for this guy.
Pens are obviously necessary, and I lose them all the time. So does everyone else. Mostly they fall out of my pockets, or I set them down somewhere and then forget them. Or a resident takes my pen and never gives it back*.
Occasionally, pens fall into the enterotomy bucket. And sometimes (apparently) this happens:
I'm not entirely sure how. Anyway! I've developed some rules about pens.
Alacrity's Six Rules of Pen Management and Lending:
1. Have multiple pens. The composition of a good pen-stable is outlined herein:
2. At least one should be your "good pen" - the one that always works, feels good in your hand, and never explodes in your pocket. Guard this pen closely. My good pen is a Pilot G2 Gel Ink Retractable Fine Point (0.7 mm) pen. NEVER LEND YOUR GOOD PEN TO ANYONE. Others should not know that you have a good pen. It is a mythical creature that only appears to write sympathy cards or take notes in rounds when you want them to be legible. This rule is nonnegotiable. Keep the good pen in a separate pocket if you need to. It does not leave your person.
3. Two (or more) should be "average pens" - these are acceptable, functional pens, but they are decidedly not in the league of awesome. Mine are free pens from the bank and the urgent care center. You can lend these pens to others, but only if they need it for a second and/or are highly trustworthy.
4. Lastly, have a truly shitty pen. This pen either feels really awkward in your hand or is otherwise irritating to use in some way. It should at least nominally work, because this is your first-in-line pen to lend to people who are likely to steal it. While you don't want to (in good faith) lend a high-risk candidate a totally non-functional pen, you should by all means lend out the pen that you'd most like to cull from the pen-herd.
5. When lending pens, do your best to supervise their use. Ask for them back (yes, even from the chief of service). If a repeat borrower has stolen pens in the past, they get the shitty pen (if they get lent a pen at all).
6. Do not set your pens down in public spaces. An unattended pen is a free pen!
*One of the ophtho residents is a renowned pen-stealer. My pen was gone within the first five minutes of seeing appointments on the first day of the rotation. The ophtho tech purchases a steady supply of pens particularly for this guy.
how to get into vet school:
When I was applying to vet school, I’m pretty sure I googled
the title phrase and various permutations thereof approximately six hundred
times. I discovered articles full
of tips such as “Get good grades!” (thanks! didn’t know they mattered!), and
“Be yourself!” (how specific!). I
yearned for direct, nuts-and-bolts, honest tips not only on how to make myself
an awesome applicant but also on how to actually literally apply to vet school. I hope these pointers help you. Good luck!
1. Make sure you actually want to be a veterinarian.
I know this sounds crazy and patronizing, but hear me out. I
know you know that veterinary medicine is more than playing with puppies and
kittens and frolicking with foals in the sunshine. You already know that there is poop and blood and explosive
anal glands. There are surgeries at ass-o’-clock in the morning after fourteen
hours at the vet hospital. You know these things.
Let me tell you some other things that you might not know:
I am in my fourth year at a very awesome veterinary college.
My classmates are accomplished, clever, driven individuals. This year, more
than one classmate has pulled me aside and spoken (in a hushed tone) something
like,
“If I’d known what it was really like, I wouldn’t have gone
to vet school.”
That’s pretty powerful, eh? I consider myself quite
fortunate to still love this world after this clinical year. Vet school is a
potently formative adventure that will change you. It will bring out qualities
(not all of them positive) that you never knew you possessed. Go talk to some
vets. Ask them to candidly describe the worst parts of their education and
profession as well as the best.
2. Assess your education.
Maybe you are in middle school and planning out your path as
you volunteer at the local horseback riding summer camp. Perhaps you’re in
college, getting your shit together.
Or possibly you’re an attorney or a salesperson, considering a career
change. Okay! All of those
situations are excellent. Now take a look at the school you’ve already
completed, and compare it with what you’ll need to get in to vet school.
This book exists: Veterinary Medical School Admission Requirements
However, the Internet is your buddy. Make a spreadsheet of
all the vet schools you’d want to attend (which by itself is a thing to consider.
Would you move across the country? Would you go to school in the UK or the
Caribbean?), and fill in the particular education prerequisites for each
school. Each school’s website will
(somewhere) provide this information. Many (not all) vet schools require an
undergraduate degree, and they all have unique course requirements.
Some require microbiology, some require nutrition, some
require public speaking, and some require physiology. Most require a baseline number
of English, biology, chemistry, and physics credits. If you have any questions
about whether a course qualifies, or if you can substitute one course for
another, e-mail the particular vet school’s admissions office directly to ask.
Save the e-mail response. Do not believe the pre-vet advisor at your college on
these matters, no matter how wonderful or experienced she is.
For example:
My pre-vet advisor told me the comparative literature class
I took during my first year of college would count towards the English
prerequisite requirement. Did it? No! Why? Because it had a “CLT” instead of an
“ENG” prefix on my transcript. Did I argue about this? Yes! Did I still have to
take another English class during my senior year? Yes!
Also, my pre-vet advisor told my buddy (who was a year ahead
of me in college) that her advanced introductory chemistry course would count
for two semesters of chemistry in vet school’s eyes. This was not in fact the
case, and said buddy had to take another chemistry course during her last
semester. Surprise!
If you’re just starting or already in college, do your best
to not take, you know, five rigorous science prerequisites all at the same
time. Be kind to your future self in your course planning.
If you’re going back to school to complete those
prerequisites, don’t fret. I think you’ll be a better/more content student now
that you’ve spent some time not as a student. School is actually awesome in
some ways, and you’ll probably appreciate them.
On grades: I’m not going to tell you about how much they
matter, because you already know they do. But don’t shortchange yourself –
don’t game the system and take “easy” classes so you can have that 4.0. It’s
not worth wasting the chance to challenge your brain.
3. Go check out the VMCAS website. Just do it. It will be
less intimidating once you’re familiar with it. It’s like the common app but
for vet schools.
4. On that note, many vet schools have supplemental
applications. Also, some of them operate entirely independently of VMCAS. Guess
what? That information goes on your spreadsheet as well!
5. GREs!
While you’re perusing the websites of the different vet
colleges, take note of their GRE requirements. Note those down on your
spreadsheet. During the year-ish before you apply to vet school, you’ll want to
take the GREs.
Do not panic.
As for studying, go get a book or two and practice. Practice
test-taking skills (yes, taking a test well is a skill) and familiarize
yourself with the process of methodically working through questions.
Learn as many vocabulary words as you can. Also, practice
your basic math.
Seriously, do not panic. You can re-take the GREs if you’re
really unhappy with your scores.
6. Acquire a diverse stable of experiences.
Okay, you’ve heard about the nebulous “experience”
requirements for applicants. My
advice to you on this point is this: go out and do things with animals. Lots of
things. Doesn’t have to be veterinary things (though it’s good if some of them
are veterinary things). Here are
some suggestions:
Volunteer at a shelter (duh)
Volunteer at a local (large or small animal) vet practice
Work at a big multi-doctor ambulatory practice or specialty
vet clinic
Volunteer at your local high-quality-high-volume-spay-neuter
clinic
Work for a riding stable
Work for a dairy
Work as a groom for a fancy, show horse stable
Help your neighbor milk her goats, shave her alpacas, or
collect her chicken eggs
Work with the lab animals at your (or a local) college or
university
Work for an organic farm
Work for an aquarium
Work for a veterinary acupuncturist or chiropractor
Volunteer with a service dog organization
Work for a groomer
Think about building your network with each experience. How
can these skills I’m gaining/people I’m meeting lead to a new adventure? Show
up on time, work hard, and have good things to say about your colleagues. I’m
pretty sure I networked my way into vet school:
I grew up riding horses, so when I was in college I pursued
and landed a job as a groom with an Olympic jumper rider. That was an awesome
experience. The next summer, I worked for the practice that did her veterinary
work. That was also an awesome experience, and yielded some fantastic
recommendations from very well respected and accomplished veterinarians.
7. Recommendations: Choose wisely.
I’m sure you’ve heard the following general advice about
recommendations – ask the person if they’d be willing to write an excellent
letter recommending you for (whatever).
This is absolutely true.
For applying to vet school (probably for applying for
anything), your best letters will be written by people who feel like they can’t
say enough good things about you. You don’t want someone who vaguely knows you
and thinks you’re okay to write you a letter. Also, I think it’s better to have fewer letters that are
fantastic than many that are mediocre.
8. Practice your interview skills!
Ooohhhh you guys so when I was interviewing at this one vet
school, they kept us all in a small, low-ceilinged room for the afternoon and
extracted us one by one for interviews. It was highly stressful, as you might
imagine.
I was wearing a pantsuit that was mostly comfortable, so I
didn’t suspect anything was amiss during my interview. Imagine my surprise when
I visited the restroom afterwards, and discovered that my fly had been open the
entire time. Awesome.
I had remembered my friend Kim’s excellent advice as I was
getting dressed that morning – namely, if your bra and your underwear match, it
makes you feel like a million bucks. So the underwear that my interviewers saw
for the better part of an hour was a lacy brown thong. Hooray!
So, maybe don’t do that.
Just like test taking, interviewing is a skill. If you get
some interviews, you definitely want to bring your A-game. Penelope Trunk has some excellent
interviewing advice on her blog. Practice! It will get a little easier with
practice. And don’t let it freak you out if it seems like an interviewer is deliberately trying to stress you – she
probably is.
thoughts on laundry:
Hi there friends!
It's day 23 of the paleo challenge, it's sleeting, and a group of highly attractive rosy-cheeked spandex-clad ladies just strolled into the coffee shop where I'm sitting. Perhaps they just finished their run? Anyways, it's a perfect day to talk about laundry!
I've come to understand that laundry in vet school is vastly different from normal laundry. Firstly, I think most people separate their laundry into "darks" and "lights". Or perhaps "white" and "other". Or maybe "delicates" and "jeans".
I separate my laundry into three categories:
1. not that dirty (shirts, long underwear, sweaters)
2. reasonably soiled (muddy jeans, socks, scrubs covered in cat hair)
3. really profoundly disgusting/possible biohazard (the coveralls I wore during the bear necropsy, or the ones so saturated with dried cow shit that they crackle when I pull them out of the plastic bag)
Sometimes, category #3 gets washed twice. Gah.
The other oddity I have regarding my laundry is that I'm quite fanatical about checking my pockets. Unfortunately, garments like coveralls and some styles of scrubs can have 8-10 pockets (not exaggerating), so objects sneak into the washer more frequently than I'd like to admit:
Sort of funny if I accidentally wash in a pocket:
pen
scissors
hemostats
penlight
dollar
clean rubber gloves
thermometer
syringe wrapper
notes on a folded piece of paper
surgical cap/mask/booties
roll of white tape
Never ever (hopefully) allowed to be washed in a pocket/list of constant vigilance:
needle
scalpel blades (wrapped)
used catheter
blood tubes
fecal sample
urine sample
highlighter
used gauze
lube packet
Happy laundering! And maybe bring some bleach wipes to the laundromat (I certainly do).
It's day 23 of the paleo challenge, it's sleeting, and a group of highly attractive rosy-cheeked spandex-clad ladies just strolled into the coffee shop where I'm sitting. Perhaps they just finished their run? Anyways, it's a perfect day to talk about laundry!
I've come to understand that laundry in vet school is vastly different from normal laundry. Firstly, I think most people separate their laundry into "darks" and "lights". Or perhaps "white" and "other". Or maybe "delicates" and "jeans".
I separate my laundry into three categories:
1. not that dirty (shirts, long underwear, sweaters)
2. reasonably soiled (muddy jeans, socks, scrubs covered in cat hair)
3. really profoundly disgusting/possible biohazard (the coveralls I wore during the bear necropsy, or the ones so saturated with dried cow shit that they crackle when I pull them out of the plastic bag)
Sometimes, category #3 gets washed twice. Gah.
The other oddity I have regarding my laundry is that I'm quite fanatical about checking my pockets. Unfortunately, garments like coveralls and some styles of scrubs can have 8-10 pockets (not exaggerating), so objects sneak into the washer more frequently than I'd like to admit:
Sort of funny if I accidentally wash in a pocket:
pen
scissors
hemostats
penlight
dollar
clean rubber gloves
thermometer
syringe wrapper
notes on a folded piece of paper
surgical cap/mask/booties
roll of white tape
Never ever (hopefully) allowed to be washed in a pocket/list of constant vigilance:
needle
scalpel blades (wrapped)
used catheter
blood tubes
fecal sample
urine sample
highlighter
used gauze
lube packet
Happy laundering! And maybe bring some bleach wipes to the laundromat (I certainly do).
your handy guide to rotations (here), part I:
Anesthesia:
Mostly, you monitor dogs and cats under anesthesia. You record heart rate, respiratory rate, blood pressure, and various other things every five minutes. Every now and again, the animal will begin to move/wake up, so you panic, push the extra propofol, and frantically page the technician. Sometimes your patient's blood pressure does scary things. Usually the surgeons take forever.
You'll spend a day in large animal, where you'll realize how amazing it is that any horse survives anesthesia ever. There's often food in the break room. The techs will probably yell at you when you do something silly. You'll usually get to eat lunch. The attire is awesome (scrubs all day every day). You'll get to place a lot of catheters and do your own intubations. You will almost certainly get called in every time you're on call.
Cardiology:
The hours are fantastic. You start at 8 or 9, and rarely do you finish later than 5. A cardiology inpatient is like a unicorn - a mysterious creature that is rarely sighted. There are lots of adorable puppies and older dogs. There will be the occasional angry cat. You will get exponentially better at hearing murmurs. The rounds are highly useful. You will probably not get called in when you're on call.
Oncology:
The rounds are fantastic. There may or may not be inpatients, depending on...who knows what. I did this rotation twice - once we had no inpatients, once we got many, many transfers. If you don't believe in oncology/have a hard time with cancer, this will be a challenging rotation. Paradoxically, you'll see lots of happy, tail-wagging dogs as well as some really sick ones. The afternoon rounds are when you get pimped - don't try to guess the answer if you don't know.
Ophthalmology:
O-PHTH-almology. This matters to ophthalmologists. You'll see a zillion cases per day and get to see some interesting/horrifying surgeries (phacoemulsification can I get a what what). For some inpatients, your entire day will revolve around eye drops (every 5 minutes for some stretches of time). You will learn which end of the slit lamp to hold. You'll be able to use a tonopen without hurting yourself or others. I don't think we rounded more than once. I was oddly okay with that.
Orthopedic Surgery:
If you like elective surgeries, awesome. Otherwise, this rotation might suck for you. The hours are terrible. The chiefs do not care about this. There will be more surgeries scheduled than can physically be cut during the week. The dogs are all large and most of them are badly behaved. The techs are no-nonsense and fantastic. The resident probably hasn't slept in the last three days.
Radiology:
The hours are 9 to 5. The rounds are useful. The chief-resident rounds in the morning are where the residents get torn new orifices while the students watch in horror. You'll learn how to take good radiographs and which end of the ultrasound probe to hold...if you want. Or you can sit in the student rounds room and eat doughnuts. It's really up to you.
Theriogenology:
You will spend countless hours with your arm up a horse's rectum (+/- the ultrasound probe). You will rapidly acclimate to the horrid smell of plube (poop + lube. Kind of like Santorum, except this variety is not the by-product of anal sex). It's very exciting when you realize that you can semi-competently ultrasound a mare's reproductive tract.
You will become intimately familiar with semen. You may have several terrifying experiences trying to capture an erect, thrusting stallion penis within an artifical vagina. All sex jokes, all the time. There will be foals. They are adorable and mostly naughty. The hours are terrible. You will probably hate getting up at 2 am for mare checks (ultrasounds every 6 hours to monitor for ovulation).
Mostly, you monitor dogs and cats under anesthesia. You record heart rate, respiratory rate, blood pressure, and various other things every five minutes. Every now and again, the animal will begin to move/wake up, so you panic, push the extra propofol, and frantically page the technician. Sometimes your patient's blood pressure does scary things. Usually the surgeons take forever.
You'll spend a day in large animal, where you'll realize how amazing it is that any horse survives anesthesia ever. There's often food in the break room. The techs will probably yell at you when you do something silly. You'll usually get to eat lunch. The attire is awesome (scrubs all day every day). You'll get to place a lot of catheters and do your own intubations. You will almost certainly get called in every time you're on call.
Cardiology:
The hours are fantastic. You start at 8 or 9, and rarely do you finish later than 5. A cardiology inpatient is like a unicorn - a mysterious creature that is rarely sighted. There are lots of adorable puppies and older dogs. There will be the occasional angry cat. You will get exponentially better at hearing murmurs. The rounds are highly useful. You will probably not get called in when you're on call.
Oncology:
The rounds are fantastic. There may or may not be inpatients, depending on...who knows what. I did this rotation twice - once we had no inpatients, once we got many, many transfers. If you don't believe in oncology/have a hard time with cancer, this will be a challenging rotation. Paradoxically, you'll see lots of happy, tail-wagging dogs as well as some really sick ones. The afternoon rounds are when you get pimped - don't try to guess the answer if you don't know.
Ophthalmology:
O-PHTH-almology. This matters to ophthalmologists. You'll see a zillion cases per day and get to see some interesting/horrifying surgeries (phacoemulsification can I get a what what). For some inpatients, your entire day will revolve around eye drops (every 5 minutes for some stretches of time). You will learn which end of the slit lamp to hold. You'll be able to use a tonopen without hurting yourself or others. I don't think we rounded more than once. I was oddly okay with that.
Orthopedic Surgery:
If you like elective surgeries, awesome. Otherwise, this rotation might suck for you. The hours are terrible. The chiefs do not care about this. There will be more surgeries scheduled than can physically be cut during the week. The dogs are all large and most of them are badly behaved. The techs are no-nonsense and fantastic. The resident probably hasn't slept in the last three days.
Radiology:
The hours are 9 to 5. The rounds are useful. The chief-resident rounds in the morning are where the residents get torn new orifices while the students watch in horror. You'll learn how to take good radiographs and which end of the ultrasound probe to hold...if you want. Or you can sit in the student rounds room and eat doughnuts. It's really up to you.
Theriogenology:
You will spend countless hours with your arm up a horse's rectum (+/- the ultrasound probe). You will rapidly acclimate to the horrid smell of plube (poop + lube. Kind of like Santorum, except this variety is not the by-product of anal sex). It's very exciting when you realize that you can semi-competently ultrasound a mare's reproductive tract.
You will become intimately familiar with semen. You may have several terrifying experiences trying to capture an erect, thrusting stallion penis within an artifical vagina. All sex jokes, all the time. There will be foals. They are adorable and mostly naughty. The hours are terrible. You will probably hate getting up at 2 am for mare checks (ultrasounds every 6 hours to monitor for ovulation).
hooray for the NAVLE!
rotation-mate: "Oh hey, you took boards! How were they?"
other student: "Yes...(pause)...my asshole is larger now."
other student: "Yes...(pause)...my asshole is larger now."
tips for visiting a veterinary school:
...as a client.
1. It mildly behooves you to know someone who is affiliated with the hospital. This person can provide you with many useful tidbits. For example, at this hospital general practice appointments are given individual time slots, and seen almost immediately on time.
On the other hand, ophtho appointments are usually overbooked to the max. This means the folks with early appointment times are in and out in a reasonable time span, but by 11 am the clients have piled up like tweens at a Justin Bieber concert and you miiiiight be out by 2. Maybe.
2. IF YOU ARE AT A TEACHING HOSPITAL, STUDENTS WILL TOUCH YOUR PET.
This is a basic truth that should be accepted, metabolized, and moved on from as quickly as possible.
3. You will probably not see the same doctor at each appointment. You may actually see multiple doctors in a day, and then see a whole new set the next time. This is because service chiefs, interns and residents rotate on and off services weekly, and there are hordes of them.
4. You will probably wait for a very long time. You might be here the whole day. Many services see all appointments in the morning, and then do all procedures in the afternoon.
5. If you leave your pet's collar/blanket/jacket with us when he or she is admitted to the hospital, it has an approximately 98% chance of being lost in the bowels of the hospital laundry system. Do not be a dick to your doctor when this happens.
6. The student assigned to your pet's case probably spends the most time out of anyone caring for and thinking about your pet. Here, each service student has perhaps 1-3 patients. Each service resident has 6-20 patients. Each service chief has 15-ALL the patients.
Here, the student does the morning and evening treatments, calls you (the owner) twice a day, updates the resident with changes in your pet's condition, and updates the medical record with findings from the resident's exams. They are the person hand feeding your dog, sneaking chicken from the cafeteria to tempt a picky eater, and saying yes, maybe an antiemetic would be a good idea.
7. It is uncool to wander around the hospital.
8. It is also uncool to ask your student or doctor to tell you about other people's pets. That is not legal.
9. The birthdate listed in the medical record is only there to give us the year of birth. I've met several clients who find it deeply offensive that our records do not always reflect an accurate day/month of birth. Why is this, you may ask? If you don't provide a specific birthday when you fill out your paperwork (just a year), we...make one up! Yaaaaaaaaay!
10. If it's June or July and your doctor looks like they are shitting a brick, they probably are. They maaaaay have just started their current job yesterday. They know things. They are good doctors. Be nice.
1. It mildly behooves you to know someone who is affiliated with the hospital. This person can provide you with many useful tidbits. For example, at this hospital general practice appointments are given individual time slots, and seen almost immediately on time.
On the other hand, ophtho appointments are usually overbooked to the max. This means the folks with early appointment times are in and out in a reasonable time span, but by 11 am the clients have piled up like tweens at a Justin Bieber concert and you miiiiight be out by 2. Maybe.
2. IF YOU ARE AT A TEACHING HOSPITAL, STUDENTS WILL TOUCH YOUR PET.
This is a basic truth that should be accepted, metabolized, and moved on from as quickly as possible.
3. You will probably not see the same doctor at each appointment. You may actually see multiple doctors in a day, and then see a whole new set the next time. This is because service chiefs, interns and residents rotate on and off services weekly, and there are hordes of them.
4. You will probably wait for a very long time. You might be here the whole day. Many services see all appointments in the morning, and then do all procedures in the afternoon.
5. If you leave your pet's collar/blanket/jacket with us when he or she is admitted to the hospital, it has an approximately 98% chance of being lost in the bowels of the hospital laundry system. Do not be a dick to your doctor when this happens.
6. The student assigned to your pet's case probably spends the most time out of anyone caring for and thinking about your pet. Here, each service student has perhaps 1-3 patients. Each service resident has 6-20 patients. Each service chief has 15-ALL the patients.
Here, the student does the morning and evening treatments, calls you (the owner) twice a day, updates the resident with changes in your pet's condition, and updates the medical record with findings from the resident's exams. They are the person hand feeding your dog, sneaking chicken from the cafeteria to tempt a picky eater, and saying yes, maybe an antiemetic would be a good idea.
7. It is uncool to wander around the hospital.
8. It is also uncool to ask your student or doctor to tell you about other people's pets. That is not legal.
9. The birthdate listed in the medical record is only there to give us the year of birth. I've met several clients who find it deeply offensive that our records do not always reflect an accurate day/month of birth. Why is this, you may ask? If you don't provide a specific birthday when you fill out your paperwork (just a year), we...make one up! Yaaaaaaaaay!
10. If it's June or July and your doctor looks like they are shitting a brick, they probably are. They maaaaay have just started their current job yesterday. They know things. They are good doctors. Be nice.
a thing I learned:
As a student, one of my jobs (oftentimes) is taking a history from clients while (or before) we start examining their pet.
[Tip! If you're in a veterinary hospital, giving a concise and accurate history of your pet's problem(s) will absolutely make your visit happen faster. Faster! Faster is better!]
Good history:
"Okay, so Jerry started vomiting last night after I fed him dinner. He vomited three times, and each time it looked like digested food. He seemed okay overnight, but he didn't want to eat this morning. He's been drinking okay, and he hasn't had any diarrhea. I don't think he's eaten anything he wasn't supposed to."
Bad history:
"Jerry? Well, I got him when he was three - no, maybe four. You see, we don't actually know because we adopted him from the neighbor when they moved away. I think they were moving to Spain so the husband could teach chemistry at a university there. Maybe it was physics. Anyway, he was really happy to come and live with us, but my other dogs stare at him all the time. I think it stresses him out. He comes and sits by me and breathes loudly. Except sometimes he stands when he does it. I don't know why.
Anyway, sometimes I let him out in the yard by himself, but I haven't done that in a while. Sometimes he stands under the bird feeder. Last night I fed him dinner while we were eating - we were having roast beef, and I fed him in the kitchen so he wouldn't whine - and after dinner while we were watching Project Runway...
(at this point the other person in the room interrupts)
"No, we were watching The X Factor."
"Whatever. We were watching The X Factor and he threw up. I don't know how many times because my husband cleaned them up and he doesn't remember. I think it might have been four times"
"It was six times."
"How do you know? You never remember anything!"
Et cetera.
[Tip! If you're in a veterinary hospital, giving a concise and accurate history of your pet's problem(s) will absolutely make your visit happen faster. Faster! Faster is better!]
Good history:
"Okay, so Jerry started vomiting last night after I fed him dinner. He vomited three times, and each time it looked like digested food. He seemed okay overnight, but he didn't want to eat this morning. He's been drinking okay, and he hasn't had any diarrhea. I don't think he's eaten anything he wasn't supposed to."
Bad history:
"Jerry? Well, I got him when he was three - no, maybe four. You see, we don't actually know because we adopted him from the neighbor when they moved away. I think they were moving to Spain so the husband could teach chemistry at a university there. Maybe it was physics. Anyway, he was really happy to come and live with us, but my other dogs stare at him all the time. I think it stresses him out. He comes and sits by me and breathes loudly. Except sometimes he stands when he does it. I don't know why.
Anyway, sometimes I let him out in the yard by himself, but I haven't done that in a while. Sometimes he stands under the bird feeder. Last night I fed him dinner while we were eating - we were having roast beef, and I fed him in the kitchen so he wouldn't whine - and after dinner while we were watching Project Runway...
(at this point the other person in the room interrupts)
"No, we were watching The X Factor."
"Whatever. We were watching The X Factor and he threw up. I don't know how many times because my husband cleaned them up and he doesn't remember. I think it might have been four times"
"It was six times."
"How do you know? You never remember anything!"
Et cetera.
pre-clinical evolution of a vet student:
-->
Orientation
OMG HOLY SHIT I AM IN VET SCHOOOOOOOOL! Wow, look at us! We are the University of Awesome CVM Class of 2013! WOOOOO!!!! Look, the ornate U of A seal is on that lectern! Right there! At the front of this lecture hall! I’m sitting in a lecture hall! In vet school! WOOOOOO!!!!!!
OMG HOLY SHIT I AM IN VET SCHOOOOOOOOL! Wow, look at us! We are the University of Awesome CVM Class of 2013! WOOOOO!!!! Look, the ornate U of A seal is on that lectern! Right there! At the front of this lecture hall! I’m sitting in a lecture hall! In vet school! WOOOOOO!!!!!!
Anatomy
Day 1:
Today is the first day of class in Vet School. I must be an adult. None of this undergraduate tomfoolery -
I am a serious Vet Student now. I
will wear professional clothing. I
will take notes the Right Way. I
will write down everything the professor says. Verbatim.
Including the pauses (with estimated pause length in parentheses).
Day 1, later:
Shit, where is anatomy lab?
Day 3:
I don’t have enough highlighters in enough colors. Emergency Staples run!
Day 14:
My classmates must know more than I do. They must study harder. I knew it was a mistake to take that
shower the other day. I could have
been studying.
Day 37:
That fresh horse larynx smells really terrible.
Day 41:
Out of highlighters again.
Day 83:
Well, these cranial nerves and all their associated foramina
can just go fuck themselves.
Day 114:
Singing:
“Sar-tor-i-us!
(do do do do) Sar-tor-i-us! (do do do do)”
Week before the final:
Cricoarytenoideusdorsalislatissimusdorsiforamenovalepiamaterischialtuberosity
WHAT IF I DON’T PASS PANIC PANIC PANIC
(flapping around in a cloud of flashcards, carefully
highlighted handouts, and dirty mnemonics)
Microbiology
Day 1:
I wonder if I passed anatomy.
Day 33:
If I can master the intricate details of this impossibly
complex cellular signaling pathway, it will undoubtedly make me a better
veterinarian one day.
Neuroanatomy
Day 14:
Hey Dr. Professor, you remember how the first day of Neuro
you told us this material would be easy, and that it’s all just a bunch of hype
about this class being insanely hard?
This word “easy” – I do not think it means what you think it means.
Week before the final:
Classmate sends out a video allegedly explaining the
rubrospinal tract - Rick Rolls the entire listserv. Excellent.
Physiology
Day 1:
Oh, this won’t be so bad. The professor is making an analogy about grass clippings and
urine. He must have a sense of
humor.
Day 15:
Oh that’s what a
spleen does.
Day 39:
Why are kidneys so weird? And who is Henle?
Bacteriology, Virology, Immunology
Day 7:
Reciting:
“Respiratory tract bacterial pathogens of horses. Actinobacillus
equuli, Streptococcus equi ssp. equi,
Streptococcus equi ssp. zooepidemicus,
Rhodococcus equi, Mycoplasma felis…”
Day 34:
Classmate:
“Hey, so if rinderpest has just been eradicated, do we have
to know it for the final?”
Parasitology
Day 15:
I want to eat nothing but autoclaved sand.
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