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Mean Girls pt2…

I returned to General Practice Veterinary Medicine after four months of working  12-14 overnight shifts in Veterinary Emergency care. Time spent in ER was incredible in terms of experience gained and processing death from trauma. I truly miss the doctors and eager vet students I was fortunate to work with. Their love of medicine and the desire to save all God’s creatures from injuries was unprecedented. I realize the privilege to work with this crew and although  BP misplaced me in terms of job title and where I truly needed to be, which inevitably led to my failure-I forgive. Nothing can replace what I saw, did, treated, prayed over, held as the last breath was released, can ever measure up to the experiences gained in working overnight emergency.

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Fate’s OHE-spay (uterus)

And…

BP will accept me back.

After…20141128_154254-1 (2)

More time spent in GP.

Yes. I miss ER.

But…

My body and emotional mindset is exhausted.

I no longer shed tears at PTS’s (put to sleep). 20141107_103448 (2)

Not in front of clients.

Not in the bathroom.

Not on the train going home.

But…

At night, when I stare at the ceiling at bedtime.

I guess it’s all good in some sick way for I can now concentrate on the owners and offer more support from mi alma which no longer feels.

My blog on transitioning to this career has ended. My thoughts on the continuance in this career  as well as school is now questionable. 20151024_071642 (2)

Because…

The other side of this business is still present and for that matter,  will always be. As long as there are insecure, unstable nurses-the Mean Girls , in this field the drama will thrive.

Don’t want to end up on NY1 so I’ve grown thick skin, a thick heart an emotional void and most importantly the desire to have only working relationship with them.

No, you are not my friend or close confident.

No, I do not need your approval to validate how I do my job.20150417_152313 (2)

No, I will not gossip about other co-workers, maliciously or even constructively with you.

No. No. No.

Accusing me of not cleaning?

Please watch the video.

2016 is in full string and transitions seem to be lining up. I’ve thought about leaving the state in search of Tech Nursing work. My mind is working, talking to others who have relocated and gauging if this is a necessary transition to make.

Time will tell. Actually the Fall will tell.

I’m biting at the bit and I love an adventure.

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Why not?

Cali, Georgia, one of the Carolina’s. Florida? Virginia, Washington, Seattle?

Who knows.

 

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Gus…

Yesterday, I saved a dog on a Saturday morning in Park Slope, Brooklyn.

He was running across a busy street known as Prospect Park West, adjacent  to Prospect Park in Park Slope, Brooklyn.

I was on my way to work at the clinic about to cross this street to walk on the side of the park when a dog ran into the middle of traffic.

Well…

I ran out into the middle of traffic to stop the cars from potentially running over the dog.

Well…

The dog and myself were lucky enough to not meet HIM, our maker that day. I was able to hold back traffic but not the dog,  now running down a block. The Farmers Market was taking place at the time so lots of humans were roaming the area. I called out to a jogger, “Please grab the dog”. He did so, hesitantly.

I made my way towards the dog and slowed down my pace as I approached it with my hand extended. The dog sat down, tail wagging and the jogger released his hold on the harness.

I wrapped my fingers around the metal link and did not let go.

The dog had tags on the collar…!

This is not Gus but he looks like him.

This is not Gus but he looks like him.

I sat on the curb, with Gus leaning on me, as a small crowd of witnesses gathered. I called the owners, balancing the tag with the info and punching the numbers into my cell. Others from the crowd volunteered to hold Gus.

I declined.

I was not going to let this angel out of my fingers.

A voice responded to my call and the wife of the husband who was walking the dog in Prospect Park was hysterical. She was at work and had no idea this transpired. I told her our location and promised to wait until her husband arrived.

Meanwhile the crowd slowly dispersed as I relayed the information about the owner coming.

Boy…was I gonna be late for work.

I’ve worked at PPAC for over a year now and cannot recall a time I was late.

It was hard to move with him as he was too big for me to carry with my bags and I had no leash to guide him but we made our way over to a nearby bench.

I heard the husband-owner  calling to Gus before seeing him as my back was turned to the side. He ran up to us and Gus was so excited to see his owner. He thanked me profusely, saying I saved his kids’ lives because if he returned home without Gus, they would be devastated. He apologized and admitted while in the park with Gus, he took his eyes off him for a moment, and he was gone. He wanted my address, to send flowers, to drop off a gift. I declined and I stretched out my hand. He grasped it firmly and we shook. He had tears in his eyes and I almost broke down crying.

Well…

Prior to this happening I was making my way to work was feeling discouraged and experiencing serious second doubts about my career choice. It can be frustrating and confusing at times when doubt seeps in the alma.

I love climbing mountains, and I love challenges and I feel stuck in a rut right now-a rut caused by my own psyche and wanting to know everything all at once.

Gus was a sign, in a strange way. Meeting him on that Saturday morning was a wake-up call.

I am, where I am supposed to be right here and now.

When I made it to work, I was deemed a hero. I saved Gus’ life. The owner (wife) phoned and asked for my info to send a gift.

I declined…again.

I told her I was a vet tech and she laughed and said Gus was lucky to have run into me. She asked where I worked and I told her.  Hopefully, we’ll get another client.

In the meantime, thank you Gus.

Yesterday, a dog named Gus saved me on a Saturday morning in Park Slope, Brooklyn.

 

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