Veterinary Assistant Externship: Day 1

So a couple weeks ago I finally sold a veterinary facility on the idea of having me come and shadow their staff in exchange for free labor. It surprised me how difficult it had been to do, given the idea that "free" is usually something people jump at. I'd finished my last chapter in straight book-learning back in December. All my tests had been on time, all had been passing grades (laboratory work being my weakest and animal behavior being my strongest), and I had been prepared to begin immediately.

In case you hadn't noticed, it's April now.

So for the past four months and change, I've been calling various locations in an attempt to volunteer as a student at their locations. Most places never called back, no matter how many times I called to talk to the office manager, got their names, or left messages for them. A couple of them I managed to even get their schedules so I could call during the time they'd be there. One place I hounded for an entire month before I finally got the manager on the phone... only to be met with "no". Discouraging to say the least. But I kept plugging away, hoping SOME place would take me that wasn't in, say, Los Angeles. I'd be willing to drive a fair distance. But budget being what it is, only so far was possible.

One week I finally got mad, and did a Google search to find every vet hospital in a 50 mile radius. I got a lot of returns, and filtered them down based on schedule and distance. With a substantial list of places open at hours I could work (Saturdays in particular) that weren't in Mexico, I began calling. Every. Day.

One place actually seemed interested in talking to me. HUGE step forward. So I worked out a time to come see the facility, printed up my resume, and dressed myself as professionally as I know how. It's less than two miles from my house. Bonus, I thought. Went in, and though it was a very small facility, everyone there seemed friendly and capable. I talked to the office manager for a goodly while, talking about what kinds of things I'd been taught, what my current skillset was, and why I wanted to volunteer. He said he'd talk to the doctor, but "didn't see any problem with it."

Fingers crossed and excited with the biggest break in months, I called my coordinator. She was ecstatic, and gave me a rundown of all the paperwork that would need to happen before I could officially walk through the door as a student. I'd be covered under the school's insurance to protect not just me but the facility as well, and they needed to sign a bunch of things...

Later in the week I got the call. The paperwork had been filed. I was on for the following Saturday, 8:30AM.

I was nervous and excited Friday night. I laid out my student scrubs, put a notebook and pencil out, and set my alarm for extra early. I slept well, although I did have trouble falling asleep initially, to jazzed about the next morning to drift off right away. I worried that I'd forgotten too much in the four months since my last exam, that I would make a huge mistake, that I'd do something that endangered a patient or worse. What if I looked like an idiot? What if I forgot how to scrub properly? What if I mixed up procedure?

I was up bright an early, washed, dressed, primped and groomed. I wore no scents (bad idea when around animals with sensitive noses) and limited makeup (proper professional etiquette). I made the hard decision to leave my engagement ring at home at the suggestion of my textbook, preventing the risk of damage or soiling on the ring itself but also the damage to the rubber gloves I might need to wear. Jewelry of most kinds is dangerous to wear in an environment where the patient might struggle and entangle hoops or loops with fur and fangs. Finally ready with plenty of time, I walked out the door with my hair pinned up primly, and drove down the quiet empty streets to the facility, enjoying the cool air and warm sunshine.

I arrived early and presented myself. Immediately I set about asking what I could do to help. We stocked rooms, wiped down exam tables, and walked the dog that was being boarded there. We set about putting new stickers on old files and setting up blank charts for new patients. We went over the schedule, prepared for our appointments, and made sure everything was in order. The doctor veterinarian came in, introduced himself (he's quite the talker), and our first appointment arrived.

Now, everyone knows doctors wade through blood and pus. And nurses, too. But sometimes I think folks don't really realize that vets and vet staff have it tough, too. See, while we don't have quite the myriad of maladies to treat that human-doctors do, we do have to run tests on animals that humans would find abhorrent. Animals can't say "hey, doc, it hurts here when I do this and the pain is sharp (or dull)". Take, for example, the urinalysis. In humans, we ask the patient to pee in a cup, right? Well, in animals we can't do that. We have to flip them onto their backs (secure in the foam safety-wedge for comfort), and withdraw the urine directly from the bladder with a needle and syringe. It's not graceful or dignified, but it gets the job done. And don't even get me started on poop.

You can tell a lot about an animal by its poop. Hydration, diet, internal health, parasitic infection... and to determine all this, we have to smush it on a slide with solution and look at it under a microscope. It smells bad, the animal hates it, and it's messy. But it's important, even necessary. The animal's well-being is more important than the bad smell. So the staff ignores it and does the fecal smear with all the professional precision one might expect of medical staff.

My first real hands-on animal experience was one of the most disgusting procedures I can name. Fiancé gets green around the gills every time I mention it. It doesn't bother me, partly because it needs to NOT bother me if I'm going to expect to do this kind of work, and partly because I've gotten so used to urine, feces, blood, pus, and vomit from owning animals my whole life that it just doesn't shock me anymore. I am referring, of course, to the procedure known as "anal gland expression". From a medical standpoint, it's interesting and important. Cats and dogs have these little glands that can become impacted, infected, and downright problematic, and need to be cleared out. The fluid itself is a vile-smelling goo that would fit in well at the Bog Of Eternal Stench, and, like the Bog itself, one drop has enough potency to last for a week on your clothes. And while nasty and uncomfortable for both the animal and the staff, it's incredibly good for the critter's system. Was it gross? Oh yes. But did it bother me? Not so much.

The rest of the day was mainly cleaning. At one point my eyes burned with the bleach and I needed to take a break. I sanitized two surgical wards, dry-mopped the floors, then bleach-mopped the floors, walked the dogs again for their noontide breaks, took out the trash, stocked the rooms with syringes, and socialized with a poor kitty whose bladder refused to give a urinalysis and had been poked and prodded no less then five times that day. Such a sweetie. At day's close the owner came to take her home, and we noticed a puddle of pee in the bottom of the cage... with blood in it. She was immediately rescheduled for another exam. I hope she's okay.

It was a slow day. We had pizza, and chips and homemade guacamole. We shot the breeze as we ran lab tests. I got to see two urine tests run, two fecal floats, two smears, and one blood draw. We teased each other and talked about training methods for dogs and cats. We chatted about our own pets and why it was silly to call up old clients from five years past who had brought in their rodents. They taught, I listened. I asked questions, they demonstrated answers. They explained, I took notes. We talked about music and significant others.

It was a great day.

After the doctor went home following the last appointment, we started cleaning up. Nobody else was due in for the day, we'd had no calls, and it didn't look like anyone was coming in. We walked the boarding dogs one last time, moved the barker out of isolation, and sanitized everything. I worked up a sweat mopping the whole facility. I was proud of my work. It felt honest and solid, "true" in a fashion. Wholesome. Right. I cleaned up the mop and bucket, grabbed my stuff, and went home, back by 3PM.

My back hurt, my feet throbbed from standing all day, and my head ached enormously from having my hair tied back for so long. I took a hot shower to clean up, washed my scrubs, and relaxed for the rest of the afternoon with equally-achey Fiancé, who'd spent the better part of the day in physical exercise and activity.

And I get to do it all again next week.

I love my life.