Wowza, I really haven't updated this in a while.  Partly it's because I'm busy this summer doing work things and finding fun things to do in the meantime, and no longer busy doing things that I would rather procrastinate by writing a blog post.  But now that I'm finishing up a paper by mostly working at home....hello procrastination, my old friend.

First year of veterinary school went by in a blur.  People ask me how it was, and I often respond that it was like waking up from an intense REM cycle.  I have this vision of what the essence of vet school was, yet the more that time passes, the more the vision eludes me, and now it's very easy to forget all those long hours memorizing transduction pathways and cranial nerves.  It was hard to "come up for air" during the school year, but too easy to get back into the Netflix-at-night lifestyle now.

Did I enjoy the first year of vet school?  Yes.  It was very strenuous and time-consuming, but yes.  Mainly because I am a nerd and love learning, partly because while Grafton is a very lackluster town, the social network and community is great, and partly because boredom and unfulfillment is far more terrifying than nose-to-the-grindstone, unrelenting studying that we in our comfortable culture refer to as "work."  Also, animals, so...

I have changed my mind about what I wanted to do with my degree so many times already this year.  I came in thinking I wanted to be the next Temple Grandin and improve slaughterhouse facilities!  Then I realized there are few jobs in large animal practices and besides, Tufts doesn't really specialize in that.  Then I figured I would just go into small animal practice, and then I saw this NYT article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/24/business/high-debt-and-falling-demand-trap-new-veterinarians.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

So for a while, my backup plan was to go into laboratory animal medicine and lust after the legendary six-figure salary that eludes so many in our field.  I wouldn't say I was in it for the money, but when you're looking at a quarter of a million dollars of debt, it's time to wise up and make some practical decisions.

Fortunately I ended up receiving a full scholarship from the Army, so I've sold my soul for three years and they get to decide what kind of job I have.  In a way, I'm relieved - the pressure's off!  Now I can continue to nerd out without the strain of figuring out what my calling is.

To be continued....

That's right, they're missing a patellar locking mechanism and reciprocal apparatus in their stay apparatus!  Who's laughing now, cow tippers?

Myth busted

FAQs

When I'm home for a weekend, hanging out with some friends I haven't seen in a while, but most commonly when meeting new people and trying desperately to remember what it's like to have a normal social interaction, some common questions arise.  When the new person inevitably recognizes my lack of ability to participate in conversations that don't involve the newest development of smells in the anatomy lab or the Complaint Olympics (vet school students are perennial favorites for the gold medal), he or she will eventually discover that I am in vet school and ask a series of predictable questions.

1. So, what kind of vet do you want to be?

Sheesh, I thought that having a plan for the next four years would be enough!  College students get until the end of their second year to decide what major they want.  Can I have more than a few months after matriculation to decide what I want to devote my life to?  This is a very harmless question but the words "I'm in vet school" rarely escape my mouth before I hear this question without fail.  

2. How long is vet school?

Four years.  Yes, just like "real" medical school.  All the debt with one-third of the starting salary!

And finally:

3. Have you stuck your hand up a cow's butt yet?

I promise you, there will be pictures on the Internet when it happens, whether I want there to be or not.  Also, while people are fascinated by the horrific experience of sticking your hand where the sun doesn't shine, I would rather do this for a bovine friend than perform a colonoscopy on a human.  Just sayin'.

I'm sure we could throw in a "2 chainz" if you wanted to describe some antibodies....

Nothing like being called out

Aaaaand we're back!

Our winter break (a glorified week off) was just enough time to get into a comfortable sleep schedule.  By comfortable I mean a 12-hour-a-night schedule that is unsustainable with learning a few thousand more anatomy terms, though it would probably help to remember some more.

Anyway, we started right back up where we left off, like one of those recurring dreams minus the REM cycle.  We have some exciting new classes though: immunology!  Comparative anatomy and physiology!  This laboratory animal course that I'm taking for selective credit!  You gotta find your kicks where you can in vet school.

I have two new roommates though, to add a little fun: pet rats!  Our clinical skills class teaches us how to handle laboratory animals second year, and a V'15 who adopted a lab rat from clinical skills turned out to have a dozen more lab rats a few weeks down the road.  Mine are both male, so we won't have that problem.  They are super cute, although I'm quickly realizing that outside of the vet school bubble, people aren't quite willing to coo over a rat as much as your average corgi.

My adopting these surprise rat babies is mostly a way to stave off the temptation of adopting the Found-by cats we get emails about once a week.  They only live about two to three years - less commitment than my last relationship.

Virginia-Maryland Histology Website

256 Shades of Gray: The Vet School Story

Apparently by the time we graduate we will be able to look at this picture and think, "Wow!  Ultrasound technology sure has improved over the past 18 years!  I NEVER would have been able to distinguish that adrenal cortex from the medulla in 1994 the way I can now!"

I'll let you know when that day comes, but I wouldn't hold your breath

Thanksgiving Lessons

Thanksgiving break was a glorious long weekend to try and forget that I wasn't a veterinary student, but during the time I was getting reunited with my REM cycle and physical activity, I realized that there is no escape.  

It's hard to look at a turkey without thinking about the changes in glycolytic efficiencies that differentiate the white muscle fibers from red muscle fibers, or chow down without secretly feeling triumphant in the fact that I shouldn't have to worry about cheesy, eggy dishes because only 1/3 of our cholesterol in our body comes from exogenous sources.  I may have been guilty of trying to palpate various lymph nodes and vertebral structures in our bony cat, too.  Nothing is sacred anymore.

And here's the obligatory post: I am so thankful for the opportunity to pursue my goals and the career of my dreams, thankful to be in a community where nerdy is normal, and thankful for family and friends who support my time constraints and sometimes make the extra effort when I fall short of staying in touch.

But lest we get too complacent, there's a molecular biology final on Tuesday.  Gotta get crackin!

Our physiochemistry professor just thinks he's SO funny

(Re: the note at the top tailored to the worst fears of any vet student who's skipped lecture)

Well, we've now been in school for almost three months and so far we've had a grand total of 3 Physiological chemistry exams, 2 Developmental Anatomy exams, 2 five-hour Gross Anatomy exams, 1 Histology exam, and 1 Molecular Biology paper.  To be honest, work isn't that hard.  What's hard is paying attention in class after sitting in the same chair for eight hours.  What's hard is not falling asleep in a dimly lit lecture after staying up studying and waking up for 8 am problem-based learning discussion.  (But most of all what's hard is coming up with a third item on a list to make things sound complete).

Undergrad was a time to learn how to think critically, interpret information, and maybe even get some lessons in the world at large while we were at it.  Veterinary school is all about throwing information at us repeatedly and hoping that something sticks.  It might be working!  I can now distinguish histologic preparations of acinar glands from tubular glands and tell you the innervations of the brachial plexus muscles (but please don't ask me to remember the times of important meetings).  But as they say in the biz, further study is needed.

We had a mandatory lunch meeting today (although you'll find that anything that offers pizza doesn't have to have a 'mandatory' label attached to it) to discuss the upcoming Selectives program.  It's like extracurriculars for veterinary students!  We get to choose from a list of fun programs that includes extra classes, surgical rotations, preparation of anatomy specimens, farm work, or biomedical research, and commit to that program one afternoon per week for a semester.  

I'm currently entertaining the idea of a Masters in laboratory animal medicine, so I might be locked into taking a class for that for my spring selective.  I did have a moment of panic about the enormous looming debt that may have steered me to a more profitable laboratory animal medicine career, but the truth is my interests continue to change almost daily.

I'll leave you with an comic from XKCD that I look at whenever I feel discouraged, hopeless, or powerless facing debt and sparse job options in a career that, while incredibly fulfilling, is not as respected nor as profitable as its human counterpart.  As Isaac Asimov said, there is a single light of science, and to shine it anywhere is to shine it everywhere.

Here's our friend.  Tell me this wouldn't make your day too.

Llamarama

Alright Internet, I'm back.

It seems that we first years are learning that not only is there a light very, very far away down this tunnel.  The jury is still out on whether or not that light might be a train.

What I'm trying to say is, classes have been piling on in a ridiculous way.  We're living exam-to-exam, and unfortunately this means cramming and falling behind, rinse and repeat.  I've been training a lot in the Large Animal Hospital as well.  It's been incredibly awesome and makes me remember why I'm putting myself through this lack of sleep in the first place (I don't mind all the work.  Just please, please give me back my 8 hours).  But it's a lot of time, and it means that I rarely see the sun shining these days, being on campus from about 8 am to 10:30 pm.

The bright point of our week was definitely clinical skills.  Dr. Pollock had a connection to the owner of Me Llama Farm, who brought in some of his llamas for us to physically examine!  We warmed them up a bit with some blood extraction from the jugular.  Other groups got to castrate some llamas, which was pretty exciting.  Vet students don't get out much.

Some fun facts about llamas while we're at it:

-Llamas are induced ovulators, just like cats, and unlike dogs.  This is not like in humans where women with fertility problems are induced to ovulate, it just means that llamas do not go into heat like a bitch (that's always fun to say).  The act of breeding itself signals hormonal changes that activate release of the oocyte and begin the miracle of life.

-Llama youngins are called crias.  This confused me greatly when I was doing my training for large animal surgery and heard the doctors talking about a cria coming in -- it sounded like some unpleasant medical disease.  Nope, they're very pleasant baby animals.  Llama mamas have a gestation period of 11 months (!) and on farms crias are often born around the same time; they may even have the same birthday depending on how much the farmer wants to save on cria birthday cake.

-If you're looking for a camelid companion, llamas are bred for their temperament.  It makes sense because you don't want an unruly pack animal.  Alpacas, on the other hand, are bred for their fiber, and if you ever get to pet one, you'll know why.  Whenever you develop breeding tunnel vision and only breed for one characteristic, you're going to get some fun surprises along the way.  Alpaca breeding is nowhere near as bad as what people have done to domestic dogs to exaggerate physical features, but alpacas tend to be a bit more antisocial and can develop some dental problems as well.

Welcome back

It was very hard to get back to school after a long weekend of hiking and relaxing, and judging by the unenthusiastic clicking of keyboards rather than our typical carcophony of typing, the rest of the class was feeling my pain.  The big excitement of our first anatomy test - the looming threat of the buzzer at each two-minute station!  The danger of the amped up formalin freshly applied to each molding cat!  The magical phenomenon of seemingly unstudied muscles appearing out of nowhere! - is over, and with it, the realization that we are still pushing through this material at the same pace.  And the material that we've all neglected in frantically studying for this five-hour doozy of an exam is not just going to disappear.

I think we just need to see some real live animals - we haven't had our Clinical Skills class for two weeks, and without some sheep tipping and beagle handling things are getting to be a bit of a drag.  I was feeling a bit dismissive about the heaps of knowledge that are being dropped on us in physiochem, until my roommate reminded me that this summer she treated lots of dogs for the deficiency that we're studying.  Who knew, our classes are relevant!

In other medical news, I gave blood for the first time this afternoon!  I have tried before, but being a competitive runner and vegetarian iron deficiency has always been a problem.  It did take a few blood samples to prove that I was over the limit of 12.5, but I got 'er done!  Of course, today had to be the day when we covered the brachial plexus in gross anatomy.  And what happens when there are misplaced needles or poorly executed blood draws for the cephalic vein?  Nerve damage!  Nerve damage everywhere!  My vein turned out to be a bit tricky to find, so while the Red Cross technicians fiddled around with my needle I kept thinking about the precious radial and medial nerves around that vessel.

Then again, what do I know about humans?  Our nerves are probably all kinds of different from animals.  If I'm learning anything here, it's to never assume that species are the same.

Especially cats and horses.

LATTraining

Last weekend, despite the looming terror of our first (and highly hyped up) gross anatomy exam, I ventured back to my alma mater for Homecoming.  This was a wonderful relief from studying -- a chance to see college friends I love and had possibly neglected communicating with over the past month, a chance to wander around and eat free food from the alumni tent while our football team maintained their losing streak, a chance to relax on a misty September afternoon, a chance to go to bars in a less sketchy city than Worcester.  

Yet oddly enough I felt another sense of relief when I ran into my medical school friend and fellow alumna, and we talked about how everything around us looks like striated muscle fibers, pseudostratified epithelia, or any of the myriad histological and anatomical figures we have been poring over.  Our work is so time consuming that it felt more normal for a while to be talking about epithelial layers and calcification centers than it did to be talking about social events and new jobs.  

Luckily this feeling dissipated throughout the weekend, but it was a reminder of how all-encompassing this gig is.  It's strange to not have an identity as "the girl going to veterinary school" or "the runner," because a) we're all in veterinary school, duh, and b) there's really no time for fun and rarely time for exercise!

But maybe fun has just become redefined.  My version of "fun" today, after dozing through six hours of lectures, was to meet up in the Large Animal Hospital to continue our orientation as the Large Animal Tech Team.  We watched a horse with colic reflux through an endotrachial tube into a 16 L bucket for a while, then learned some procedures for medical walk-bys and met some llamas.  I am one of the people here with the least amount of equine experience, and as it just so happens LATT gets most of its business from colic surgeries.  Guess I'm going to have to become a horse person real fast.  At least there's only the intubation and recovery processes to deal with a conscious horse, so it's a good introduction.

This vet school fun interefered with my sprinting through the whole chapter on the thoracic limb, however, so I have to cut this blog post short.  Until next time!  Spay & neuter your pets kids!

With our second test (Developmental Anatomy) out of the way, looks like I finally have some time to stop studying/stop feeling guilty about not studying!

It's true what they say: vet school is a lot of work.  But after being a varsity athlete while going through pre-vet requirements in undergrad (at a Div III school, but still) it's amazing how much free time there is to study.  I can definitely see the challenge coming from some of my classmates, who have been working full time for the past several years.  But after having nearly every day crammed with sports practice, dance rehearsal, meetings, and early bedtimes to rest up for races, it's amazing to realize that there are so many hours in a day to study.  The exams have also been much more straightforward than undegrad: it's like the professors are on our side now, not trying to trip us up.

I've gotten some hands-on work as well: I was volunteering at a feral cat clinic on Sunday!  Tufts has a program set up with Worcester Spay Clinic where trappers can bring in feral cats from their colonies about every month or so, and we'll go through and prep them for surgery, put them under the knife, and send them out vaccinated and de-ticked.  There are a ton of dogs here all the time, so it was great to get some cat time!

This XKCD comic was published the day of our pchem exam.  It's very fitting, especially if you replace the balloons with things like "make anatomy flashcards," "use anatomy flash cards," "skim histology reading," and "wash the pig smell out of clinical skills clothes."

The exam itself was a pleasant surprise.  Not trying to sound like I've conquered vet school (it was the opinion several other people had as well) but it was much better than expected.  Our physio professor, at least, seems like he doesn't want to try and trick us, he genuinely wants us to do well, which is a relief after slogging through "weed-out" classes at Tufts that even permeated into senior year.

To remember that the next four years are about more than learning pyrimidine synthesis, I went to volunteer at the pig barn this morning!  I realized a little too late this this would be one of our precious few mornings in which we didn't have class until 11:00 am, but you can sleep when you're retired, right?  I had spoken to the farmer in charge of the swine barn when we had clinical skills, and he was so eager for help that I found myself donning my coveralls again less than a week later.

The pig barn was an amazing experience.  Yet mixed feelings still abound.  First of all, pigs are HUGE.  I liked to entertain the idea that as an aspiring veterinarian, I knew a bit about animals, or at least their general appearance.  I am learning more and more that this is not the case.  The first debunking of this theory was my visit to the pigs in clinical skills.  If I may put this in Game of Thrones language, I thought pigs were about the size of a dog....they're more like a direwolf.

Not the piglets though -- they were born over the weekend, so they were smaller than puppies and just as cute.  I got to perform the routine classifying of piglets, and this was were the mixed feelings came in.  I assessed their health score, clipped their needleteeth, cut their umbilical cord, marked their ears, docked their tails, and gave them an intramuscular injection of iron.  I also got to castrate two older piglets, and since I'm interested in going into large animal surgery, this was AWESOME. 

Here's the thing though: I wasn't wild about notching the ears, and the castration technique seemed a bit crude.  The ears are cut in a pattern that allows the farmer to quickly identify the pig based on numbers assigned to "quadrants" of the ear.  The castration involves making a small incision, nicking away at the connective tissue, popping out the testicles, and spraying the area with iodine.  There is no anesthetic and no sutures.  I'm sure the procedure must be safe and have a low rate of infection, or else it wouldn't be economically viable for these producers.  It did make me uneasy though -- leaving the pigs without sutures seemed a bit precarious.  I was also hoping for an alternative to the ear notching.  I'm not sure what's popular in the industry; I was so busy taking everything in that I forgot to ask.

To those who are curious, here's why the piglets are castrated.  Intact male pigs are called boars, and all those androgens coursing through their system give the meat a tougher, not so savory taste.  The boars at Tufts are raised for insemination.  The castrated males, called barrows, are raised for meat.  Plus, boars take up space: they need their own pen unless raised in the same litter, or else they'll fight to the death with any other boar, or impose their dominance on the females in their pen.  Moral of the story: it's safer, tastier, and more practical to have barrows rather than boars.

But boars do come in handy sometimes.  This morning I was finishing clipping needleteeth and being peed on by a third piglet when the farmer came in holding two containers of warm translucent liquid and told me, "Come with me, we're going to impregnate some sows."  (He told me later that technically, the pigs were gilts, meaning they had not given birth to a litter yet).  I don't need to go into the details here but it was very cool and I'm trying to go back in October to look at the ultrasound and see if the gilt we worked on is pregnant!

The rest of the day was long and cold (for some reason Tufts CRANKS the air conditioning in the classroom, so no amount of perusing weather.com can prepare you for the frigid lectures).  Tomorrow we have clinical skills again, but no pigs this time.