Tuesday, February 7, 2012

February already

It is Tuesday, I have a fur pile on my couch, and I could blog. Today was a fairly bloggable day on the Rez, starting with this rather fascinating dream wherein…*pause* *censor the queasy* *consider yourself warned* *but you’re missing out if you don’t keep reading*… wherein one of my fat rolls contained a palpable transverse large colon and I felt the need to operate. Phase into the next segment of this ultra-weird dream, and I was at some sort of CVF meeting and behold I had a 3 inch segment of large colon coming out of each side of my belly, and it wasn’t gross, it just contained undigested hay. However, I touched it and it started retracting and AHHH I started freaking out because I didn’t want that crap floating around in my abdomen, and I went on the hunt for Andy Musick, one of the old CVF student presidents at CSU, because I was hoping he would give me some lidocaine to stop the retraction. I don’t even know if that would work. I also started planning my own intestinal anastomosis, with some debating in my head about whether I should do it myself, have the CVF group do it, or maybe have a professional do it if insurance would cover it.
 
 
Okay I don’t know why I found that so fascinating and I’m going to stop writing about that dream because I’m confused about the rest of it.
 
 
But that was before I got out of bed, way tired because my new habit is to wake up at 4 AM and think it’s time to get up. But get up I did, with the exciting knowledge that yesterday a man said he was going to bring a cow in today who had a dead calf hanging out her back end. Yes folks, it happens out here. And I believe that calf was first observed last Saturday. Out here, the fields are expansive, the cows are wild, and the fences aren’t often in the best repair. Maybe it took that long to round her up. But anyway, she was coming, and I was going to help her. The magical combination of tired, excited brain on coffee sparked a wonderful realization that my missing coveralls were in the broken suitcase in the storage room, and I loaded them up with all my calving books and took off as usual in the morning with my carload of pups. Rolled in just before 8AM and the dog spay and cat neuter were arriving, no cow yet, and ran to the back to check on her royal cat fatness who is looking WAY better today (YAY!) and then started helping the students with drug calculations and meeting the animal owners who were incredibly cute and worried about their cat neuteree. THEN the cow rolled in, and indeed there was a calf coming out, all sad and swollen-headed, no legs out. We got her in the chute and I started my investigating, hearing Dr. Callan’s voice calling for lots and lots of lube, can’t get enough lube… and it seemed pretty darn tight in there but I was able to get a chain around one foot. I had to break at that point and zip in for the spaying and neutering, but got that done and then returned to project cow. I thought I might be in for a fetotomy and reintroduced myself to the fetotome first, odd contraption that it is, but with the power of lube and getting the calf at least part way back in, one foot and then the other came forward, and I realized somewhere mid foot number one that Dr. Mortimer was truly the bomb. I think I almost died on that calving rotation, but he somehow instilled within me the knowledge that all calves can come out, somehow, and I can get them out. He was just incredibly matter-of-fact about things, mellow, and just seriously one of my favorite teachers ever. But anyway, we lubed the dickens out of her, and after about 30 minutes those front feet were out and with some rotating we got the rest out and left the uterus in, which is a good thing. The one thing I sort of forgot about is that what comes in must always come out, and in taking my feel for any possible calf number two, a WHOLE fire hose full of lube/uterine fluid came out in a couple of fast, drenching showers. Since my last blogging, I have learned to keep my mouth shut, so that wasn’t an issue, but I realized that Morty forgot to tell us one thing that would have been awesome to know: always take an extra bra and socks to work. Lesson learned. Lesson passed on to all readers. I didn’t really mind the shower; I was so glad that calf was out. I’ve also been given a strange blessing by God wherein I don’t think these things are gross. A couple of students disappeared for a little while and came back indicating that they had to leave or vomit, and Royce informed me that the fluid smelled pretty bad, but I thought it was seriously impressive how much fluid can be IN a cow’s uterus. Dude.
 
Anyway, the cow fared pretty well, as did her uterus and other parts that had to do some stretching for a while. She seemed relieved as well. She did have to go back to a big field, unfortunately, but I put in some strong requests for extra hay and daily check-ups. I like that cow. I’m sad for her too. When you think you had a bad weekend, think of Mrs. Cow.
 
 
So that was the morning, and the afternoon was also pretty interesting with several appointments and one baby Chihuahua emergency that ended sad. I did everything I know in the books for that kid, and he couldn’t bounce back. First hypoglycemia/seizures case, and the differentials are all not great for that and the possible fixes here didn’t fix him. He has lots of good company in doggie heaven.

 
Tonight I’m back in my trailer hanging with pooches. I was all jazzed up for tonight because I passed Navajo Trinity Church on the way to work and a big green sign said “MOVIE TONIGHT!!! COURAGEOUS! 7PM!!” It was still there on the way home too. So I got home with 5 minutes to feed dogs, scarf food, put socks on and head back, but alas the sign was gone and the gates were all locked. Boo.

 
That’s okay, I felt the urge to blog. It was an interesting day. It has been an interesting week, and the classwork is making piles again. The students all need review questions and next week there are 3 exams to write. It is better to give than to receive exams. Still. So I will get to work. A final word… I really like Flagstaff. I was there all last weekend with my AWESOME friends, met a classmate who is also awesome, and that town just suits me. It reminds me of my Fort. I also love goat cheese.

 
In one final note of depth that I almost forgot I was going to blog… I find myself once again wishing that I was more like my dog, Pepperoni. She is my snuggle-bear, and tonight I looked at her sleepy grateful eyes and realized that if God loves me as much as I love Pepper than I will be okay. I would like to love God as much as Pepper loves me though, happy day in and day out that He rescued me, that is all. He feeds me, He gives me a couch, He thinks I’m cute, He loves me even when I chew up Batman and Walle DVDs and shoes, He sticks me in a kennel sometimes to prevent me from destroying things, but He loves me and He will keep me forever just because I am unique and He found me and wanted to keep me. Pepperoni has such a good heart – so grateful and adorable and slowly learning to trust that food will always be there and foot wraps have to stay on even if she doesn’t like them... I’ll keep trying to be more like my dog. I’m pretty sure God does love me as much as I love her, and He can be trusted. I really don’t understand the foot wraps sometimes, but He understands that. Maybe He even thinks it’s cute when I overcome the bitter apple and rip it off.

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