We took Macy to the vet today. You would think that since I am a veterinarian’s daughter, it would be less of an ordeal for me. But, since dad lives across the country, we have to bring her to another vet. Someone that we don’t know. And, in seven years of living in this state (five years of having her in our lives), we still haven’t found a veterinarian that we love.
How is this possible? Maybe I set the bar a little high? Amazingly, no vet and no set of office staff seem to be able to live up to our expectations. In all honesty, I don’t think that I am looking for too much. We want our vet to be caring and patient and we also want him/her to take a few minutes with us when we bring a pet…we don’t want to feel like we are being rushed in and then out the door again. And, is it too much to think that the staff should be nice, knowledgeable, and communicative? Or, possibly even remotely accurate in the information they provide?
The place we visited today was new to us. Recommended by a co-worker who said wonderful things about the vet. She described him so that he sounded similar in thoughts and attitude to my dad. So, at 11:15am, we circled the troops. Macy came rushing in from outside as she heard the jingle of her leash. When K mentioned that we were going for a ride in the car, she literally shook with excitement.
Together, we drove along the side-streets until we got to the freeway. Once the jeep rounded the ramp and got up to speed Macy leaned to the side and put her paw up onto the window sill, leaning against the sill onto her elbow. So chilled out. As we pulled into the parking lot, her ears went back. How did she sense it when we had never been there before?
So, we entered the office and Macy sighed and panted. I spoke with the receptionist and explained that we needed the vet to look at Macy’s toe. It took a couple of attempts for me communicate this so that she understood. Somehow, the words “she has a lump between her toes on her right rear foot” were a little to hard to understand. Anyway, into the exam room we went. And then we waited. Finally, the vet came in. He was a very nice guy and was definitely very similar in demeanor to my dad.
This was the good part. We talked briefly about Macy’s health history and that she had her TPLO surgery on her right rear leg last February. He was very attentive and interested in her history. I explained that my dad is a vet and that we had consulted him about this lump…and went on to chronicle everything that we had tried: hot compresses, warm water soak, and even a round of antibiotics. With all of this knowledge, he suggested that the best way to proceed was to perform a needle aspiration biopsy. This would give us the most accurate information about the lump so that we would know what the next step should be.
K and I exchanged a glance. Neither of us wanted to put her through that but we both knew that we needed to do it. For her, right? Really, for us. She is our life.
So, in comes the dumb-ass vet tech with the muzzle, the shaver, the syringes, and the microscope slides. She walks to the head of the exam table (on Macy’s right side) and yanks the muzzle onto Macy’s face. Macy’s head literally flipped back with the force. Then, as Macy stands on all four feet on the exam table, this girl reaches across the table under Macy’s belly and grabs her left rear paw and yanks it towards her (to the right) and Macy, in turn, falls with a thud to the table. Quite literally, she pulled Macy’s feet out from under her. I nearly lunged across the room at this chick. The vet stopped her and told her to take care because Macy had gotten the TPLO surgery last year. I don’t think that she even knew what it was. While the vet carefully aspirated the lump, he had to tell this chick (TWO more times) to be gentle with Macy’s leg.
Finally, we were finished. K took Macy outside to relax and I stayed inside to pay up. It took a while for the gal to figure out what needed to be charged…and what instructions to give me. Finally, she figured it out: The results should be back by Wednesday and someone will call you then. I know, that was kind of tough to figure out. To her benefit, she did remember to ask me for my phone number.
Did I complain too much? Am I expecting too much? This dog is like my child. No exaggeration. Are pediatrician’s techs as idiotic?
