Looking for new ways to drive your veterinarian over the edge? Take a look at this short video so you can be “that client.”
[tweetthis]Want to *really* annoy your #veterinarian? @Vetstreet #vetpractice [/tweetthis]
Looking for new ways to drive your veterinarian over the edge? Take a look at this short video so you can be “that client.”
[tweetthis]Want to *really* annoy your #veterinarian? @Vetstreet #vetpractice [/tweetthis]
Being a caretaker is difficult. Managing a pet with multiple illnesses and multiple medications or treatments is difficult. If you have been doing this, there’s something you should know: once your pet is gone, it will be difficult NOT doing those things. Be kind to yourself while you mourn the loss of your pet. Here are some things that can help:
1. It’s normal to feel relieved.
2. It’s normal to feel guilty about #1.
3. You should concentrate on #1 and kick #2 to the curb.
4. If there is something you’ve wanted to do but couldn’t because your pet was ill – do it. Be happy when you do it and know your pet would have wanted that for you.
5. If you can sleep longer and better because your pet is gone, SMILE – there’s little that pets love more than a good sleep. Your pet would have wanted that for you.
6. Take time if you need it. Do something that makes you feel good. You spoiled your pet rotten – he would have wanted the same for you.
7. If you need to cry – let it out. Keeping it in makes everything hurt worse.
8. Let your family, friends and other pets comfort you.
9. Seek professional help if you need it.
10. If you want a new pet soon after your loss, go for it! There are so many pets that need a good home. Don’t waste yours – your pet would have wanted a new friend for you. The timing of a new pet is different for everyone – you are not replacing your lost pet – you are honoring his memory by saving another life. However, if you’re exhausted with care-taking, wait until you have your strength back.
You sacrificed much in order to provide a good quality of life for your pet. You deserve a break and some time to recover. Feel whatever you need to feel for as long as you need to feel it, and your tears will eventually be replaced by happy memories.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.
Most cat owners know their kitty is the best alarm clock in the house. But can you convince your cat to let you sleep past dawn? Dr. Andy Roark tackles this behavioral question the best way he knows meow.
[tweetthis]Does your cat wake you up at the crack of dawn for breakfast? [/tweetthis]
On your first day working with pets, you are given four gifts. Three are dogs; one is a sled.
The three dogs are named Giving, Happiness, and Stability. The sled is called Life.
Giving represents what we do to help pets or people without expecting repayment. This may involve time, labor, money, medications, or knowledge.
Happiness represents our enjoyment and wellbeing.
Stability is our ability to support ourselves, our families, and the people working in our practices who rely on us for their livelihood.
The gifts are given so that Life can take us on a meaningful journey. We can experience the thrill of our three dogs working together, thriving, and covering new ground with exuberance. Life can be exhilarating, and the passage on it consequential and rewarding.
Those of us who love, feed, and exercise all three of our dogs have an amazing trip with Life, and we experience these joys. When we neglect one or more of our dogs, we are limited in where Life can take us and how rewarding and exciting the journey can be. It takes all three dogs to pull the sled.
People who struggle with Life are often suffering from a common problem: They tend one dog more than the others, making for an uneven journey. In the veterinary world, the most commonly neglected dog is Happiness, and the most over-fed is Giving.
“Wait!” you say. “Giving is important!”
Yes, giving is extremely important, but it’s one dog in a three-dog team. Giving should be exercised regularly, but not at the expense of Happiness and Stability. I know first-hand that this is something people in veterinary medicine have a hard time with.
If Giving gets all your love and care, while Happiness and Stability languish, you’ve got a team with one strong dog and two weak ones. When you hear people say they feel unhappy about how much they give of themselves without any return benefits, you are hearing what happens when Giving is allowed to take everything while Happiness and Stability go without. At some point, these people lose control of Life and go wherever Giving takes them. After a while, they become exhausted and resentful, because this sled ride isn’t turning out at all as they’d hoped. It happens all the time, especially in this profession.
Some of us make a different mistake and let Stability get our attention, while we ignore Giving and Happiness. If you focus solely on financial gains, you may end up wondering why that Life journey isn’t as rewarding as it could be. It’s because when Happiness gets weak and Giving is miserable, the sled team falls apart.
Alternatively, those who give all their attention to Happiness while neglecting Stability and Giving usually have a great time… for a while. Ultimately, Happiness can’t thrive without Stability or Giving, and Life stalls out.
So, if we want Life to provide us with a long and wonderful journey, how do we make that happen? There are three things to remember.
Rotate Your Dogs Regularly
In a successful Life, each dog takes a turn in the lead. Sometimes the sled is pulled by Giving, sometimes by Stability, and sometimes by Happiness. Letting any one dog run the show all the time is a recipe for mediocrity at best, catastrophic failure at worst.
If you haven’t rotated your dogs recently, now’s the time. Maybe you should follow Happiness for a while, or maybe you need to figure out where Stability could take you. Or if Giving hasn’t set the pace for a while, let that happen now, and see how your Life changes.
Make Sure Your Dogs Work Together
The best path for Life is not the one your favorite dog wants to take. It’s the one that best suits all three. For example, Giving should never trample Happiness or Stability. They should goad each other forward — just like the packs of happy dogs you see zipping around together at the dog park. If your dogs are not working in harmony, it’s probably time to change course.
Keep Your Team Well-Fed
Sometimes it seems that if we divide our attention and support between Giving, Happiness, and Stability, none will reach its full potential. Wrong. It’s only when we take care of all three dogs that Life goes further and takes us forward to a place where we can find even more resources to share.
In the end, people who maintain Happiness, Giving, and Stability will have three healthy dogs that form a balanced team. These people will enjoy Life more than anyone else, and they will see and do amazing things.
So, from one animal lover to another… How are you caring for your three dogs?
An excerpt from: Lucky Dog: How Being A Veterinarian Saved My Life
by: Dr. Sarah Boston
As veterinarians, one of the options that we are able to provide is humane euthanasia. I believe this is the ultimate freedom — the freedom to die without pain. In humans, we resist when death is imminent, suffering is great, and there is no relief in sight. We hang on for dear life when life is no longer dear. We allow our loved ones to suffer. We watch them die. When a person wants to die with dignity, it becomes national or international news; a court battle usually ensues. When a high-profile euthanasia case is in the media, there are panels of bioethics experts, physicians, the terminally ill and their families. With all the controversy, I am always amazed that no one has ever turned to the opinions of doctors who regularly euthanize their patients when their prognosis is grave and they are suffering: veterinarians.
There are many reasons for euthanasia in my profession, but the most common are terminal illness and poor quality of life, with no hope of improvement or the potential for recovery. The outcome without action is clear: the patient will continue to suffer and then die. By choosing euthanasia, we can select the time and place. There can be ceremony to it. The family can control the situation and say goodbye. The patient does not die alone, and the death is painless. We are able to make this process peaceful, fast, and dignified for our patients. It is a ritual. We place a catheter in the dog’s vein without the owner present, so that they don’t have to see that part. Once it’s in, the owner comes back to give their dog hugs and kisses and say their goodbyes: “I love you. You are such a good dog. It’s okay. You are not going to hurt any more. I love you so much.”
Then we give an intravenous overdose of an anesthetic agent. It is fast — shockingly fast. It always throws people how we can move from life to death in a matter of seconds. This is simultaneously the best and worst thing about the whole process. How can you compare human euthanasia to humane euthanasia in animals? Well, how can you not?
Death with dignity has definitely gone to the dogs. I recently euthanized Molly at home. It was only six months after I finished all of my treatments for thyroid cancer. She was fifteen and a half years old and she was just done. Not sick with any one problem, or at least not one that I had discovered, just expiring, ready to go. She didn’t want to eat her favourite foods, go for walks, interact, or enjoy life, not to mention that she was rather senile and completely deaf.
I put a catheter in her back leg while she was on her bed in the living room. My husband was at the front end, feeding her cheese (the only thing she would eat) and scratching her ears. We were both crying as I gave her the injection. It was fast and peaceful. None of us will be lucky enough to have a death this good, eating cheese in bed with your best friends in the world until the lights fade out.
Reprinted with permission of House of Anansi Press. Available for purchase at //www.houseofanansi.com
Sarah Boston is a veterinary surgical oncologist and public speaker. Sarah is also a cancer survivor and author of the best-selling, hilarious memoir, Lucky Dog: How Being a Veterinarian Saved my Life.
Follow her on Twitter: @drsarahboston
Facebook Page: //www.facebook.com/drsarahbostonauthor
Buy the book on Amazon: //www.amazon.com/Lucky-Dog-Being-Veterinarian-Saved-ebook/dp/B00IRJGZK0
Human beings are very intelligent, but we can also be stubborn as mules. One of the hardest things we face is not jumping to conclusions in the face of certain events, and even trained scientists find they have to struggle against their own biases to rely on logic when examining cause and effect. With the dawn of social media, however, jumping to conclusions has gone from something that is annoying to an activity that really should be an Olympic event. Even worse, some people are so invested in the conclusions they have jumped to that they will believe an inflammatory and untrue post on social media before they will believe experts in the field.
Even though I know this, I am the first to want to jump to conclusions. When I give a medication, administer a vaccine or perform a procedure and something goes wrong, I always look first to see if what happened was my fault. It takes a supreme effort of will for me to think through the situation logically and to include all the possible causes in my rule-out list. Sometimes, my clients aren’t having it. Nope, they know in their hearts that the problem was caused by (insert “food with grains”, “vaccines”, “heartworm prevention”, etc.). Sometimes they are right. Many times, however, they are dead wrong. This article isn’t for any of those clients. This article is for the veterinarians who flog themselves for mistakes that may not have been mistakes at all. Let me give you three scenarios—all of which happened to me—that prove that cause and effect aren’t as simple as they seem.
Sometimes pet owners aren’t interested in logic. Sometimes vets aren’t either.
Scenario # 1
I had a cat come in for an anesthetic procedure. The cat and owner were new to our practice and, when I examined the cat, I found that she was dehydrated and underweight. I canceled the procedure.
Instead, I drew blood and gave her some subcutaneous fluids. She spent the night in my clinic. The next morning, she had a seizure—the first of her life. She rapidly spiraled downward from there and ended up on manual ventilation. Her poor owner was devastated and had to euthanize her.
Now, if I had gone ahead and done the procedure, I (and the owner) would have assumed that the surgery and anesthesia was the problem. I would have torn apart my protocols and ruthlessly investigated how I could have done it better. If I hadn’t been able to find anything, I would have lamented that the cat had an underlying brain/heart/lung, etc. problem that I didn’t or couldn’t pick up on during the physical examination. I’m sure it would have scarred the owner for life, and she would have been reluctant to ever put a pet under anesthesia again.
Luckily, I listened to my gut. That instinct didn’t save my patient, but in the aftermath I knew that there was no way I did something to cause a seizure based on only providing fluid therapy. It was still agonizing to explain to the owner, and I felt I had failed even though I did nothing wrong, but thankfully I had reached the right conclusion.
Scenario #2
Another cat came to me for a rabies vaccination. He was 3 years old and appeared handsome and healthy. Two days after vaccination, however, he came back with congestive heart failure.
The owner was convinced the vaccine was the cause. I ordered an echocardiogram that showed the cat had severe heart disease that likely had been going on since birth. It’s possible that the vaccine triggered the heart failure, but there’s a big difference between a trigger and a cause. For example, being startled, running from the dog or the car ride to the vet could have upset his delicate balance and triggered the exact same series of events.
Scenario #3
I was working a shift at a spay-neuter clinic when a client brought in three adorable kittens. As they were being checked in, the owner mentioned that they had been vomiting.
Upon further questioning, the owner revealed that the kittens had eaten lilies. We declined to perform surgery and told the owner to take them to the ER immediately. She refused (and was very upset that we wouldn’t do surgery), and all three kittens died the next day. The owner had declined presurgical blood work (typical in a charity clinic). If their physical examinations had been normal and I had proceeded with surgery, who would have been blamed? Likely not the poisonous plants, but the veterinarian who tried to help a client in need.
Cause and effect.
You’ll never get all of your clients to believe the information you provide, or avoid jumping to the wrong conclusions. The best you can do is take a thorough history, perform a thorough physical exam, provide recommendations, document them and never let anyone pressure you into doing something that makes you uncomfortable.
You’ll never get all of your clients to believe everything you say. Do your best.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.