First Fourth Year Rotation

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind of paperwork, studying, patient care, heartbreak and happiness.  My first official rotation back at school was Referral Medicine, reportedly one of the toughest and most demanding rotations of fourth year.  Whenever anyone would ask me what my first rotation was and I'd tell them, they'd reply, "Oooh, tough one!  Well, trial by fire, right?"  I didn't understand what the big deal was about.  "It's all the paperwork," they'd say.  "You'll be there for really long hours, and the clinician is scary--he'll grill you and make you feel like an idiot."

I'd have to say I politely disagree.  Most of my cases were from other clinics (hence the name "referral") that had not been able to figure out what was wrong with the pet.  Sometimes it was merely a case of missing equipment, and those cases were usually pretty straightforward.  The rest of them made my brain feel like it was turning inside out, and I have to admit, I loved every minute of it.

The weeks were filled with emotional ups and downs, which have the effect of sucking energy from me faster than anything else.  I suppose I could remain unemotional and not invest myself in my patients, but I'm not willing to do that.  I believe in pouring everything you've got into your patients to get them better, and if that results in more heartbreak for me, then so be it.  I don't ever want to lose the investment, I never want to be hardened or cold to the trials and tribulations of the human animal bond.  

I'm finding that the emotional investment as a doctor is significantly more than that of a technician or other employee, personally.  I realize it may not be the case for everyone, but as the person dealing directly with the owner, I feel as though I have a bigger connection to the relationship.  I see and hear the story of the pet.  Through the history and relevant information gathering I get snippets of stories showing how deep the bond grows.

"You should have seen him as a puppy!  He used to trip on his ears and do somersaults!"

"We got her from the shelter when she was four.  She'd been in the middle of a nasty divorce, and when the wife finally got custody, she turned her over to the shelter.  The husband found out, but by that time she was already ours.  We were so sad for him, but we'd already fallen in love.  She's been the best dog we've ever had."

"My wife and daughter are out of town, and this cat is my little girl's world.  I'll do anything to make her better." 

When we could do nothing, I was there with the owners aching with their sadness.  Having lost pets of my own, I can understand the depth of their agony.  I like to think they understood I didn't think their emotion was silly or stupid, or that they were making a big deal over "just" a dog, or "just" a cat.

And when we could somehow help another pet, my heart soared and I could have burst into song.  I understand the frustration of not knowing.  I can't say I thought we performed any miracles these past two weeks.  Much of it was merely taking a step back and looking at the bigger picture.  

What I do know is that I'm sure I'm going to be doing what I love for a living, which is one of the greatest blessings.