A Day in the Life of An Emergency Veterinarian
4:40 AM: Alarm screaming. I’m screaming. We are all screaming for coffee.
4:45 AM: Stealthily grabbing clothes and dodging cats on our bed without waking up the hubby.
4:46 AM: Forgot a sock. UGH
5:15 AM: Coffee gulped, dog let out to potty, clothes on, stethoscope in hand.
5:30 AM: Arrive at work. Sigh, because wouldn’t it be nice to arrive in the sunlight once?
5:32 AM: Print out hospital list, time for cage side rounds to discuss each patient.
6:14 AM: My head is spinning from the whirlwind of 20 + inpatient histories, diagnostics, and treatments being shoved rudely into my brain.
6:30 AM: Do morning physicals. Avoid being pooped on. AWWWW YEAH!
7:03 AM: Organize, look at, and write on patient charts.
7:30 AM: Wake up some owners with important patient update phone calls.
8:20 AM: First outpatient of the day is here. Unable to pee cat. Here. We. Go!
8:40 AM: Place a urinary catheter in this cat while an actively seizing dog comes straight back to the treatment room. Start listing off drug doses for the seizure dog while I suture in this catheter. Oh, there’s an owner in room 7 that wants to talk to me too.
9:10 AM: Come out of seizure dog room, there’s two dogs that ate chocolate in room 5, and a cat who has blue string coming out of his butt in room 3.
10:00 AM: Try not to sigh as I’m asked “How old are you exactly? Can’t we ask for another vet, perhaps a male one?” in an exam room.
10:25 AM: Hit by car rushed into the back. Check vitals, do diagnostics, stabilize. Looks like leg is broken, too. Surgery transfer tomorrow for this little one.
11:00 AM: Go through treatment options of kidney failure from cancer in a cat with the sweetest people. They cry, and ask me what I would do if it was my cat. They cry again. Tissues and a soft, compassionate voice is all I can offer them, but I wish I could offer them more.
12:05 PM: “Room 4 is ready.” I know that line. I grab the solution, I walk into a room with sobbing owners, and I guide them through one of the hardest decisions they will ever have to make.
12:08 PM: I exit room 4, a little shaken. I get a hug from my tech, and then eat a granola bar as I look through the 16 pages of history for my next case that is having difficulty breathing. Has had a liver mass removed, and has chronic allergies, and has seizures, and the list goes on....
2:01 PM: Attack by dog brought to the back for bleeding excessively. Work on a sedation protocol and then go see a possible Parvo in room 11.
2:10 PM: Get screamed at for “being in it just for the money” even though I severely discounted the exam fee even though I wasn’t supposed to and gave them donated medications and fluids completely free of charge.
3:00 PM: Finish up the laceration repair, work on some discharges and other medical notes.
3:30 PM: Talk to owner regarding her heat stroke dog, not realizing until afterward that I still had blood on my shirt from the laceration repair.
3:50 PM: DOA (dead on arrival) hit by car. I am pulled from a room into this one, which is full of disbelief, anger, and sadness. Their screaming follows me into the hallway.
4:00 PM: I try to eat a little snack as I have time to stew over a mistake I made a few days ago. The nightmares at night are telling me that I’m not over it. I put down my snack.
4:10 PM: See an “emergency” rash on a dog. Owner also lifts shirt to show me her “emergency” rash as well.
5:30 PM: Become a little giddy. Only 30 minutes left until freedom!
5:55 PM: A dystocia (trouble giving birth) walks into the door. And there goes my chance to leave at a decent time.
6:30 PM: The puppies aren’t coming, and ultrasound shows fetal distress. Time to kick it into high gear and get our butts into surgery.
7:00 PM: It doesn’t matter that I’ve done it before. My palms are still sweaty, and I feel like I might puke. “Don’t mess this up, you bumbling idiot,” says the voice in my head.
7:20 PM: With shaking hands, I have the puppies out. I try not to hope too much, but I hope they are okay as I suture up the Momma.
8:00 PM: I walk out of surgery with bated breath. I hear squeaks as I round the corner, and I’m handed two pink and happy puppies. And I smile, perhaps for the first time in a while.
9:20 PM: Kiss hubby, shove some fast food in my mouth while we chat about our cases from the day (he’s a vet too!)