Wow
that’s the kind of thing I like to see
he’s not even mad he just sits back down
He ain’t even got any.
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Wow
that’s the kind of thing I like to see
he’s not even mad he just sits back down
He ain’t even got any.
The Veterinarian’s Prayer
Guide me in medicine. Please let me find the tiny, dehydrated vein of the ancient kitty when I am asked to perform euthanasia under the emotional eye of her owner. I ask for this first, Lord, because it is my single most common reason for prayer, so let’s start there.
Lord, help me be a good doctor. Not even a great doctor like House, MD, but at least a doctor who will not space out and miss the glaringly obvious stuff that every veterinarian should know.
Lord, let no other doctor look at one of my medical records, shake her head and think, “What an idiot.”
If I do make a mistake, please let the lesson find its way firmly into my memory and not onto Google reviews or Angie’s List.
Grant me patience and understanding
Grant me a future that includes someday not having to work on weekends. And until that day, I beg you for a few Saturday shifts that are not completely insane.
When the anal glands express erratically, may their contents find my coat and not my face or hair.
It is not lost on me that the truly wonderful pets seem to have a significantly greater chance of getting an incurable illness at a young age. If these pets have memorable names (Professor Snacks, Captain America, Chipper Donut, Jabba Bear, etc.), live with children and have delightful owners, their long-term survival rates are even worse.
While I do not seek to understand your reasoning for this, and I am grateful for those pets that seem to be too bad to die, I would really appreciate it if more of the great ones could live nice, long lives.
Give me self-control
Bestow upon me the strength to eat heartily from the holiday veggie trays that clients send and to merely sample the brownies.
And when my strength fails (as it will), please guide me to be more reasonable in my goals and aim at least not to eat the entire batch before the technicians know the baked goods have arrived.
Make smooth my dealings with staff
Please make me the kind of veterinarian other people enjoy working with. Please let the technicians and receptionists like me for the right reasons, and if one or two of them decide not to like me, let that be for the right reasons, too.
Also: Might I request to be scheduled to work when the staff training meetings involve free lunch—and off when they do not? Speaking of schedules, please smite the technician who calls me at home early Saturday morning when it is not really, absolutely, without a doubt, critically necessary. Smite him good.
Give me wisdom in handling clients
I thank you for all the wonderful clients you send into my life each day. When it comes to those few who are less wonderful, help me to recognize the cases that I should refer away immediately. In extreme cases, feel free to strike me with an illness so I am not in the building when the true nightmare cases come in. If I were able to choose between getting pneumonia or getting sued, I’d take the former.
When I call the mean owners to check in on their pets, let my call go to voicemail. Likewise, please do not let the mentally unbalanced breeders find out where I live. I don’t want to have to choose between moving and changing professions.
Finally, please give me the wisdom not to ask any pet owner when she is due unless I am absolutely, 100 percent sure that she’s pregnant.
Amen.
– Written by Dr. Andy Roark, DVM, MS and Published by DVM360 Magazine
Donald Glover for New Yorker Magazine
casual reminder:
It’s okay if you don’t actually like being touched.
It’s okay if hugs, even with your friends/family, make you uncomfortable. It’s okay if hugs with strangers make you very uncomfortable. It’s okay if you only want to hug people for a very short amount of time. It’s okay if it’s a lot easier if you are the one in charge of how long hugs go.
It’s okay if spooning or snuggling with a partner is not a goal.
It’s okay if you need personal space. It’s okay if you are the friend who will sit on the armchair while everyone else snuggles on the couch.
It’s okay if you don’t even like when people type *hugs* or *pets* or *boops* or anything like that to you because even the thought of it just makes you squirm a little.
It’s okay if it takes you a very long time to want to share personal space with a friend or partner. It’s okay if you never really want to share personal space with someone.
It’s okay if you have to be in a very-happy, very-rare mood to crave physical contact. It’s okay if you only want physical touch in very sad times.
It’s okay if you prefer high-fives and fist-bumps because that’s the right amount of contact for you.
It’s okay if you want to cuddle or touch your romantic partner but not anyone else.
It’s okay if this is because of past trauma. It’s okay if this is because you are neurodivergent. It’s okay if you just don’t like it for no particular reason. You don’t have to explain or justify this to anyone if you don’t want to.
Basically, tumblr can be a very touch-positive, everyone loves snuggles!, hug all your friends! place and I want you to know that you are okay if you don’t like that. It doesn’t mean you don’t care about your friends. It doesn’t mean you aren’t capable of love. It doesn’t mean you are broken. It’s not something you have to try to “fix” or “get over.”
Some people need/want/prefer personal space. That’s okay.
You’re okay.
I just want to be back with my babies.
Everyone realizing they still have to remember all the anatomy we learnt in first year
Today I Learned:
That if a dog has pulmonary hypertension, it is usually prescribed Sildenafil… or in other words, VIAGRA. (Which in true form is a vasodilator that combats pulmonary hypertension quite well).
But my favorite part is that a small subset of dogs will have the side effect of… erect ears.
You told me you love me. To choose you.
I said no.
You told me to see the world with you. To choose you.
I said no.
You told me to spend my life with you. To choose you.
I said no.
You told me you would go wherever I go. To choose you.
I said no.
You told me to be happy together. To choose you.
I said no.
You called me your soulmate. To choose you.
I said yes, I choose you.
You told me you met a girl. You chose her.
Amy Winehouse singing an emotional rendition of Love is a Losing Game, October 2006
If you don’t love yourself you will always be chasing after people who don’t love you either
Mandy Hale (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
Michael B. Jordan & Zendaya Vanity Fair Hollywood Issue 2018 | Behind the Scenes