Everyone Is NOT Welcome Here. When Do I Close The Door To Bad Clients?

While I recognize that this is prejudice, I also recognize my own limitations. 

I mean isn't that fair? Didn't the Supreme Court decide who could, or, didn't have to, bake cakes? Why not have my cake, and eat it too? (The degree to which cake defines acceptable social tolerance is alarming, isn't it?).

Seraphina. She is adamant that you will hold her.

I would like to believe that I am the person who accepts all; lovingly, unconditionally, and without the harsh judgement that divides, alienates, and perpetuates. BUT, it turns out I am after all the person who yields death, AND, therefore, I feel I deserve reprieve and definition to my latitudes.

No one enters my realm unless they love their pet. in itself this offers a huge range of persons. those that love so much they cannot bear goodbye. those that love so blindly that cannot see the path of despair they reap. those that love so much they will not permit one ounce of struggle...the list goes on.

My Charleston. Second chemo session.
passed away 10/21/21

If you aren't sure what I am referring too, let me explain the polar end of loving so much..

The woman with the elderly cat with the facial mass. She found me after visiting a dozen other vets. Two of them specialty clinics with all of the options available for every disease and ailment imaginable. These are the pinnacles of exceptional care and treatment options. She had been told by every single person before meeting me. They all told her that the mass on the face of her cat was so advanced that it was no longer curable. There were no surgeries, no medications, and unfortunately this cat was so debilitated that not even oncology had any suggestions. Cancer is often like this. It can cause such devastation that at some point we should seek merciful end of days, versus, fighting for an ending that leaves no hope for any quality of life. What was best for this cat? Simply helping this woman understand what lay ahead for both of them. She refused to see what all of the rest of us were telling her. She refused so vehemently she became angry. Argumentative, accusatory, and nasty. I kept repeating to her that I was on her side. Her cats side. They are not, or at least did not, have to be separate sides. She couldn't see it. She did not believe us. Any of us. None of us should have to suffer. This cat was comatose and suffering. Now for all of you who are as incensed by this as I was, there were measures in play to help. Animal Control was on her case before she came to me. Another vet before me had reported her. It is incredibly difficult to force euthanasia on anyone seeking care for their pet. Hospice is an option for all of us. But, just like all of us it requires acceptance of dying. My mom couldn't see her own cancer killing her. I get it.

The woman with the mass that took the life of the patient. What about the client who brings in the happy, active dog with the softball sized mass that is bleeding, necrotic and seriously problematic for both his quality of life and his family. Bandages cannot contain masses of this size and severity. They only go away when taken off. Nothing (alright, to be honest, almost, nothing hurts my heart like euthanizing a mass because I don't have a chance to save the patient from it. (Veterinary pearl of advice; don't wait to do surgery on a mass that will never go away without surgical intervention. Take it off  asap!) Ask me how many old dogs with yucky masses I have taken off and had them live years, yes, years, after. See Spencer's story).

The hoarder who loves kittens so much she cannot spay. Ugh. This one drives you to question humanity at its core. The most egregious hoarders that I have tried to help have been compassionate enough to see the respiratory infections, the lethargy, the signs of illness, but, they are resistant to spaying and neutering the whole colony. Why? Well, they don't want to admit it, but, the core of the hoarding is the feeling of purpose and feeling needed. (Every veterinary professional can identify. It is why we are all here.) If there are kittens you are needed. If the cats are sick you are needed. It is an impossible cycle to stop. They will go adopt new kittens if the colony is sterilized. It makes you crazy to see the cycle of dying, disease and suffering be promulgated due to mental illness. Cats need to have kennel licenses required by law. It is the only way to curb the tide for this situation.

The old man with the lifeless chihuahua who cannot put him down,, even as he is agonal. The times when an elderly, (it has happened twice, and always been very elderly), man cradling his dying dog and refusing to let go. There is obvious suffering, and still, they cannot let go. Who do I advocate for? Who do I work/serve? There are times I do not know.

....at least there is some salvation with them,, some bedrock of a foundation that helps me justify the end,, at least they were loved..

The people who give up at the first sign of hardship to spare suffering.. . There are cases that wag, wiggle, and delight into the clinic. Most are here for routine examinations. Every blue (black?) moon these patients are attached to clients who perceive something I do not. They feel their pet is unhappy. Struggling in some unidentifiable fashion, and, therefore needs to be put down. I reel on these cases. I offer free everything: diagnostics, exams, drugs, every pain medication in the arsenal, even taking custody of him. These, yes, absolutely these cases are what ruin me. I have had two clients, both men mid 40's, yell at me. Threaten me, and yes, even charge my via the State Board, that "I work for them." Get so angry and unhinged you fear for your safety. They, (my perception) seem more about the control of it all. The embarrassment of being challenged. Called out. Questioned. That they resort to anger, outrage and threats. One I will never forget is Chuck the dachshund. When Chuck walked into the clinic he bounded toward the treat jar at the front desk. He sat, waited patiently with the drool running down the sides of his mouth, and gulped up three treats the receptionists gleefully delivered. He was euthanized because they were going to have it so even if it meant dropping off at the shelter to have it done by someone who primarily euthanizes via a cardiac stick and doesn't know him. He would be afraid there. He was loved here. I hugged him, cuddled him in my arms, and cried. I made it as full of love as I ever did for my own pets. He was mine in that moment. He was the most beloved dog who ever lived. They weren't going to watch. They told me so as a weapon to remind me that they were so hurt by the loss they couldn't watch. I can't put into words the hate that burned inside of me at that moment. I whispered in his ear as he fell asleep that I loved him, and I hope he returns to pee on them every day of the rest of their lives. Let Chuck be the karma I couldn't deliver in person. 

Did I have to do this? Put Chuck down? No, of course I could have declined. I have done so only to have the Sheriff be called out to witness the dog being shot in the backyard tied to a tree. 

(Middle finger salute to that idiot who ever said "what ever doesn't kill you makes you stronger.")

Like it or not, the minute you threaten me is the same second my claws come out. Yesterday I screamed back into the phone to a woman who was insistent to tell me that "she has friends who do not like me!" It was a dagger she thought would hurt me. She wanted to hurt me because I was forcing her to wear a mask in the clinic. I very loudly told her that "I truly didn't care what anyone thought of me." I am over that manipulative crap. These two guys, gone for good. Hip-hip.. I definitely don't work for them.

Jitterbug. My beloved cat. Passed away September 2021

The wise old veterinarians before me would tell me that it is not my place to judge. While at the macroscopic this might be best for mankind, it is not the reality of the world I am trying to stay alive within. 

Diedra, always a smile.
Me, claws at the ready, yet still looking for the next adventure/challenge

Can you love too much? No, I don't think so, but, you can love so much that you are blind to the other person/soul/being/dependent in the relationship. You can love so much that it is destructive to the others around you. You can love so much that there is no other perspective to influence decisions. If that includes your health care provider they cannot do their job with the best interests of the patient first. I also cannot survive with a compassionate spirit to guide me. 

End Note;

This blog is about the lives I meet and the struggles I face as a veterinarian. It's about the endless questions that I grapple with everyday as I try to find my way. I can say that I am trying to stay true to who I am, and why I chose this profession. But in reality I am just trying to keep that little girl who always dreamed she would grow up be a veterinarian, in the face of the harsh realities the adult me has to manage, alive.