Oh What A Week It's Been

Seriously. What. a. week. The phrase, "stick a fork in me, I'm done!" seems fairly accurate.

My last post was about the new kitty I adopted. I had been eyeing her for a month at the Humane Society kiosk inside Petsmart - every weekend I grew more fond of her. I finally convinced Boyfriend to agree and we managed to get our landlord to agree as well. We knew our other cat, Wyatt, missed having Harriet around and could use a playmate. The Humane Society had named her "Starla", but Boyfriend and I both agreed we needed something else. After a few days, Boyfriend came up with a name that I think suits her, and we both like it. "Lacey" is her new name and it's taken two weeks to come out of her shell, but she's a happy cat. Her favorite place is usually under the spare bed; if not there, then the window sill in the "cat room". She now comes out around the house, plays with Wyatt (and usually kicks hiss ass a little, too), and is showing her sweet side.

The weekend that I adopted Lacey, my Nana and Mom both came down with a horrible flu-like bug. Terrible, horrible. One you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy. Wednesday night, it hit me. At 1:30 in the morning. Fortunately I had been forewarned regarding all that happens, so I wasn't surprised that I had to immediately jump in the shower. I figure I lost close to ten pounds in two days. While I was physically sick for one day, I didn't eat for nearly two and lost a lot of fluids. I went to work Friday morning simply to do payroll, to ensure it got done the way I do it.

The weekend I wasn't feeling well, I called in sick to my weekend job. I just didn't have the strength or stamina to stand/walk for four hours at a time. We made a quick stop at the Peddler's Fair, where I found the gal that makes the soap I love, and bought soaps. Then, we took the boat out on Lewiston Lake, and putted around. The speed limit is only 10mph on the entire lake - the lake is actually a very large river, really. When Trinity Dam releases water from Trinity Lake, it flows into the original riverbed, which was never dredged; and flows to Lewiston Dam where water will be released into the original Trinity River, which goes to Whiskeytown Lake. Yeah, I know, confusing. Basically, Lewiston Lake is barely a lake, it's more a really big river. There I started my tan. It was a nice, relaxing day.

Monday brought a busy work week as I'm trying to figure out our worker's comp insurance, retyped the Rules and Regulations, paid a bunch of bills, and began working on a updated 2014 Budget - with actual figures for the first half and better estimates for the rest of the year. Next up will be working on a budget for the beginning of 2015 and then maybe try to work out a 5 year budget. We'll need that sort of thing for future grants anyway. Plus we had a board meeting and I had to get everything ready for that. Also? We are in dire need of replacing our second river pump - most water companies have some sort of "redundant" system, so that if one pump fails, we still have another to pull water from the River (which is our back-up source in the summer). One of our pumps doesn't work. It hasn't for 15 years. Looks like it will cost a minimum of $15,000. We were hoping to get emergency funds from the State to reimburse us, but since we have some money socked away in a CD, we won't get reimbursed. It's all on us. Bleh.

Wednesday brought a headache in the form of a water pipe buried TWELVE FEET. Why someone would bury it that far down, I'm not sure. But Boyfriend tore up the pipe because he couldn't see anything from the backhoe and the hole was muddy and had water in it. The school, which is where they were digging, has had no running water since Wednesday. Boyfriend discovered that it's a copper pipe and had to order parts. Then he discovered it wasn't 2" pipe, it was 3" pipe, which evidently 3" copper pipe is practically unheard of. While the students are out of school for summer, admin staff are still there and have no water. They are livid, even though, Boyfriend is moving as fast as he can to get parts to fix it. All this to install a meter. *sigh*

We got GREAT NEWS on Wednesday, too. The grant I applied for three weeks ago - just heard back that we are among 8 companies selected to receive money!!! It still has to be approved by the Policy Review Committee, but at least we are in the running. I actually got teary when I read the email.

Thursday night, Boyfriend and I went to see the Eli Young Band in Redding. It was a good show. :)   And don't let my camera fool you, I could actually see his facial expressions, although my camera makes it look like I'm far away. lol We had pretty good seats.

In the middle of the night, Boyfriend woke me up - he was sick. He is sure his is actual food poisoning and not the weird flu-like bug that resembles food poisoning in how quick and violently it hits you. In in the middle of this, he's making phone calls to somehow get running water back to the school since now we can't get parts until Monday. If the school doesn't kill us in our sleep, we should count our lucky stars.

And now, I'm starving, so I think I will have some leftover fish tacos I made a couple nights ago. Pretty sure Boyfriend won't eat anything; food poisoning or the flu will kill whatever appetite you have. I'm hiding in the bedroom while he's sleeping in the living room. I don't want my typing to disturb him. However, dinner will. It's a catch 22. Oh well. I just hope next week is better.

 

How to create a cluster-f*$#

Step 1. Be scheduled to work your part-time job on weekends.

Step 2. Work Saturday.

Step 3. Decide on Saturday night that you wish to not work on Sunday because you and Boyfriend need to go cut a Christmas tree and also to see where Boyfriend now works. And also to learn a bit how things operate. Not to mention you've been working seven days a week for four months and you need a break. (also not to mention, I rarely do something like this.)

Step 4. Call the store on Sunday morning and tell them a simple story of, "I tripped in a gopher hole on the way to the chicken coop that was still covered by two inches of snow." (totally feasible).

Step 5. Email your manager to let her know the same story, saying, "All will be well by next weekend." Keeping the story the same just in case the store is audited by the company I work for and trace it to my district managers.

Step 6. Enjoy the day off with Boyfriend, spending a few hours watching him work and learning in the process. Cut down a Christmas tree that is only 13 feet tall, even though you've told him several times that you really only need a 5' tree. Enjoy the setting up of the tree - discovering that it's too big for the tree stand and instead have to use an orange 5 gallon bucket.

Step 7. Go to bed, tired and happy after a nice "play hooky" kind of day spending it with Boyfriend.

Step 8. Receive email Monday from an HR person at weekend job saying that she's sorry to hear about my "twisted ankle" and that I've been put on medical leave until a doctor releases me back to work since my job requires standing and walking for four hours at a time. Email back and forth with gal, trying to reason with her that a doctor visit will cost me $100, which I don't have. Nope, doesn't work.

Step 9. Scrimp and save and try to find time for doctor appointment. Call around to walk-in clinics only to be told the same thing - the price is over $100 just to have a doctor sign a piece of paper. Between the holidays, my (so-called) full-time job and trying to get a spare $100, it takes 3 weeks to find the time.

Step 10. Face the music, visit doctor, pay $107 for a physician's assistant to sign a piece of paper. At least she thought it as ridiculous as I did after I explained them forcing me to go to a doctor when I hadn't been hurt on the job. Go back to work the next weekend.

And that, folks, is how you create an award-winning cluster-fuck.

Lesson. Learned.

Insults

Today, at work, I was insulted by a customer.

An upset elderly customer. She was upset because her puppy, Peanut, wasn't responding to her surgery as planned.

The puppy had a hernia, which was repaired on Monday.

She called this morning saying the puppy's belly was swollen and was having a hard time going to the bathroom. I told her to come straight in and we'll take a look and see what's going on with Peanut. She said, "okay."

Around lunchtime, I took a phone call, and it was this woman. I answered the phone as usual, "Small Town Vet Clinic, this is Miss CB" and her response was, "Is this the vet clinic?" I replied with, "Yes, ma'am, it is." Her response was, "And who are you?" I replied with my name. She told me her name and said that she was really upset that the doctor had "butchered her dog".

I was taken aback. No one butchered anything.

I responded with, "Ma'am, I'm very sorry that you feel that way, but it was not our intention for anything bad to happen to Peanut."

She responded, in tears, "I'm sorry you're so insensitive."

My response was, "Oh ma'am, please do not mistake me for being insensitive. Please understand that no doctor or technician would knowingly cause harm to any pet that walks through our doors. I am sorry that Peanut doesn't seem to be responding well."

She cried. Continuing to tell me how the doctor "butchered her dog".

At last she said, "I'm taking her to Davis. That doctor butchered my dog."

And she hung up.

I turned around to see my office supervisor staring at me, ready to take a bite of her lunch, with a look that said, "WTF?"

I told her what the client said, and asked if I had - at all - sounded insensitive. She said, "No. In fact, you handled that call really well. You know, that woman has been a client with us for a very long time. I'm surprised she reacted like that." Then she promptly got up and went to the doctor (the one the client complained about), told her what happened and then the doctor has for my input. She said she would try calling her to see if she could talk to her.

It didn't make much sense that she had wasted 5 hours of the day away after having called me the first time, then call to say she was taking her dog to UC Davis Vet Hospital - 3 hours away and would be close to closing time by the time she got down there. And if she were to wait another day, her puppy would be even worse off.

What we figured was that perhaps she was letting the puppy run around, which could cause sutures to break, re-creating the hernia, or causing worse harm. She probably took the puppy to another vet clinic, and the doctor there could have taken the client's word at face value, and saying that the doctor who performed the procedure had done it wrong. It seems the most logical explanation.

To my followers and friends that are pet owners: Please know that people don't spend several hundred thousand dollars to obtain their Doctor of Veterinary Medicine degree to "butcher" animals. They work their asses off to obtain that degree because they have a love of animals, and they want to help. When your vet gives you explicit instructions, please follow them. No veterinarian wants to ostracize clients by "butchering" their animals, because trust me, that is no way to keep people coming through the front door. 

Remember that bad word of mouth always travels faster than good. And nobody wants that.

Remember that no matter what, shit can happen, even when you follow directions. We never know how each animal is going to react or heal after an injury or surgery.

But above all, please know that whatever happens, your veterinarian never wants anything bad to happen to your pet.

Ever.

 

The Story of Tank

A couple weeks ago, a gentleman called our clinic saying that his dog had been attacked by a pit bull and asked if we had an available veterinarian to tend to him. Of course we did, and I told him to come straight away. I warned our doctor, Dr. H, that we had a bite wound coming in.

Tank, a 1.5 year old English Bull Dog, had not fared well against the pit bull that attacked him. The entire backside of his neck (along his topline) had several (and I mean, several) puncture wounds from the attack dog. In case you're wondering what an English Bull Dog looks like:

This breed is not exactly my cup of tea. They are sweet dogs, but I'm not a fan of the smooshed-face dogs. However, in Tank's case, he grew on me.

Because of his injuries, Tank was very sensitive and not overly cooperative. However, Dr. H and the tech were able to clean up the wounds. Dr. H told Tank's owner that she wanted to at least keep him over-night. The owner understood and left Tank in our care.

A couple days later, I came back in after a day off, and at some point in the morning Dr. H was working on Tank. His wounds on the back of his neck was now all dead tissue and was needing to be cut away. The end result was ugly. It was down to the last layer of skin that covered muscles.

Tank's neck later that night.

Taking Tank for a walk proved to be interesting. I put a leash around his neck very carefully, and just kept calling to him for him to follow me.

Tank's owners came to visit him daily. The first time the wife and her kids came in and I took them back. I had to warn them how ugly the wound was. I mean. Ugly. You can see for yourself. I also had to warn them about the smell. The poor dog was stinking up our treatment area pretty badly. I nearly cried with them when I took them back. The wife got teary, and her kids started crying. It took all I had to not lose it with them. I spoke to the wife about the dog attack and she said she got pictures of the dog that had done the attacking, including blood all down it's front. I told her that she needed to file a complaint with the police department - Animal Control wouldn't come get the dog unless they managed to trap it on their property. Evidently the owner of the pit bull has a total of 5 pit bulls (in CA you have to have a kennel license if you have 6 or more dogs), and they all keep breaking through the property fence no matter how many times Tank's owners patched it up. And all 5 dogs run wild and are aggressive. Tank's owners worry about their own children. I told her she really ought to file a complaint with the police and to take the pictures to them as evidence. I don't know if they have or not to date. But I sincerely hope they have.

As I said, they visited him daily. I told them that pets know when their people come to visit. Tank was kind of out of it, and not overly responsive the first few days. But they do know and they do like seeing their people while in the hospital. Just like people like having their family visit them.

After roughly two weeks of a hospital stay, the owners had to make some tough decisions. Tank had a very long road ahead of him in the healing process. And the owners only had so much money. In fact, they were out of money. Their bill was sitting around $1200. Tank's bill could easily run up to $5000 or more before long and the healing road would be long and hard. Tank still needs a lot of pain medicine and antibiotics and would require them for quite some time. We had been giving him IV fluids as he didn't always drink or eat enough.

Part of my sucky Saturday last weekend was that Dr. H called me at 9am (I went in at 10), to tell me that Tank was probably going to be euthanized because the owners were simply out of money and didn't want Tank to suffer anymore than he already had. She said that they'd discontinued the meds because of the euthanization.

The wife called the clinic a couple times saying that she couldn't get a hold of her husband and didn't want to do it with him there. The doctor on call that weekend told me to tell them that when they could come in, to call our answering service and he would meet them at the clinic.

I was asked to do treatments that evening, but was told that there was nothing to do for Tank. So I took care of the two parvo puppies and then when I was done I went to see Tank.

And I cried.

It was the worst thing I've ever seen. I could see the pain in his eyes. I have never in my entire life seen any living thing in that much pain. I petted him along his back and back legs. I felt it was important that he get some love. His owner wouldn't show up to put him out of his misery without her husband. They insisted on being there. I told him over and over that I was so sorry. I was so mad that I couldn't do anything. That the doctor wouldn't "give" away some pain meds so Tank wouldn't suffer so badly. I could only imagine the pain this poor dog was in, and even then, I still don't think my imagination came close.

My heart broke for Tank.

I left there to have dinner with my BFF. I got hugs. I got home, and I told my parents. My parents have never seen me cry over any animal that has come into a clinic I've worked for. I usually can hide it fairly well. But I couldn't hide my anger and broken heart over Tank. I got Mom hugs.

When I came in on Monday I asked the tech who had been on-call on Sunday if the owners came in over the weekend. She said no, there had been no need - Tank was dead when she walked in Sunday morning. He had died alone and in the worst kind of pain.

Rest in peace, little man. Rest in peace.

ox, me.

A Sucky Saturday To Follow A Sucky Friday

Recently I wrote a post about a very hectic Friday. I had ended it with "wait until you hear about Saturday." This is that post.

On Saturdays, my clinic has some odd hours. One office is open from 8-10 by appointment only. The other office, is open from 10-2.

When I came in, we had the day fully scheduled. Unfortunately, we also accept walk-ins. Do you see where this is going? Let me enlighten you.

The first column (far left) was all scheduled appointments. The other two columns were all walk-ins.

That many people in a normal business day wouldn't be quite so terrifying. However, we were only open 4 hours. With one doctor, one tech, and one receptionist (me). The first thing I see when I pull up in my car is that a doctor is working on a large Saint Bernard puppy in the back of a van. The front door is, of course, already unlocked and people flock into the lobby behind me. One member of this pack rudely tells me that our answering service tells callers that we open at 9am, when in fact we open at 10am. She was obviously pissed, however, what the hell can I do about it? Nothing. Except tell my boss a dozen times and hope that he remembers to pass the buck. I politely tell her that someone may have accidentally told our answering service that time, or originally we were and then it wasn't changed, or those were our hours at the other office but not here . . . profusely apologizing for not being open at 9am when it was most convenient for her.

The poor weekend doctor spent the entire day in exam rooms, with hardly a break. Once I turned the phones on at 10am, they didn't stop ringing. The people didn't stop coming in. Most people were patient about the wait times. Except for one guy. He walked in and said he had an appointment at 11 with Dr. H. I told him that the current wait time was about 15 minutes for an exam room and that Dr. H wasn't on this weekend. He got all pissy saying that he had specifically made the appointment with Dr. H. I, again, apologized and told him that perhaps the person scheduling his appointment thought Dr. H was on call this weekend, not knowing it was Dr. R instead; that more than likely they didn't have a copy of the doctor's schedule near them, but that Dr. R would be happy to do the exam. He huffed and reluctantly agreed.

 

At 2pm, I went to go lock the front door, but had some trouble getting the lock to engage. Apparently there is a button under the bar, and that button seemed to be jammed. I asked two girls to try, and they couldn't. So, Dr. R was called in. He took one of the girl's keys and tried. Next thing I know, I over hear Dr. R on his cell phone saying he had called a locksmith because he had broken the key off in the door. I teased him about it and he said, "Not like the lock was working anyway."

I had brought a small lunch with me to snack on, but never got the chance to touch it. I didn't stop moving until 3pm. I had had tentative plans with my BFF for a late lunch and maybe go to the dollar movies. From about 2pm on, the poor girl kept getting angry texts from me because the tech needed me to cover her doing treatments that evening, and then the deposit was off (again) and the tech decided she needed to count the damn drawer two dozen times. Not kidding. I was ready to blow a gasket. I finally left about 3pm, met my BFF down the road and we grabbed a quick and cheap bite at Jack in the Box. She was totally understanding and was definitely the highlight of my day. We spent about an hour chatting, and by the end of that hour, I felt less stressed and headachy.

I went back to do the treatments - we had two puppies that had tested positive for parvo. One of them greeted me with a lot of tail wagging. The other one was lethargic, but at least she didn't leave a huge poopy mess like she had earlier in the day. This was my first time doing treatments for this clinic so I had no idea where things were. But I did the treatments, and was nearly done when my BFF texted me and said she was in the parking lot. I let her in and told her I just needed to enter stuff into the computer. While I was doing that, Dr. L came in to check on the parvo dogs. I went to help him and while I was gone, my BFF decided to use my smart phone to check her email . . . among other things.

 

When the cat's away, the mice will play. lol

After Dr. L left, I finished inputting stuff into the computer and went with my BFF to have dinner. Where we sat chatting until after 9pm. After a rough couple days, my BFF was there to let me vent and to give me hugs.

What also helps is after a rough day, my parents are at home and give me hugs, too. Because I haven't even told you guys the worst vet story I have witnessed. That's another post. A post about Tank.

Sooo, Friday Kinda Sucked....

I have not written much about my new job yet. Let me correct this. Now.

So far, I enjoy working for the new vet's office. Everyone is very nice and helpful. Most of us are learning as we go, even the doctors. The clinic I work for has opened a new clinic, and in the essence of "go big or go home", they are going paperless. All of the physical charts are left at the old place, which is still open. We print a "check-in" sheet that we place in a holder outside the room so the doctor knows who is in there, and we print a receipt. Other options we print are cage cards and Rabies certificates. So, not much paper. In the end, all of us are learning together how to go paperless. It's a challenge. Also is the challenge of opening a new office and realizing what you don't have when you need it. And trying to figure out who put what where and how the only pair of scissors keeps finding their way to surgery (to cut surgery drapes).

My biggest challenge has been trying to forget what I learned in Sticksville and learning how they do stuff here. Their prices, their policies, their way. That is a huge challenge.

Today, however, was not an overly enjoyable day. By 10am I was wishing that Excedrin was back on the market. Costco size. We have owners drop their pets off for surgery between 7:30 and 8am. Surgeries are by appointment only - however some people are getting the idea they can just "walk in". Confusingly enough, we accept walk-in "appointments" for things such as basic exams and vaccines. I had two walk-in surgeries today and two no-shows on my scheduled ones. At least they balanced out. People started calling as soon as I turned the phones over at 8am. In my first hour I was off the phone for about 5 minutes.

Around 9am, Dr. G comes and tells me he wants all the front lobby windows washed. Inside and out. Okay. If the phones would stop ringing that would be super helpful. Dr. H tells me I'm the one up front, therefore the only one who can do it. Um. Sure. I mention that I will need help answering the phones and she says okay. That didn't happen. It took me two hours to wash the inside of the windows. I never made it to the outside because people kept coming in and the phone kept ringing. At one point I had three lines going and a line of people up front about four deep. Did anyone help me? Nope.

We got a bunch of "retail" type items in earlier this week - toys, treats, leashes, food, etc. I found out the hard way that though the items may be entered in the computer system, there were no prices to be found. I called my Front Office Manager (FOM) at home to ask her what I needed to so and she told me. Can I just say I hate adding machines? With the phones still ringing off the hook, and the line getting longer, I finally just said (not aloud), "Fuck it" and sold it for a random price that was over what we paid so we still made a few bucks, just not as much as we should.

I had people be all kinds of rude to me. My only comfort was that no one cussed me out, however they still weren't very nice in some cases. Rude retorts of "well that just doesn't make sense to me" and "well that seems awful pricey", among others were what I received. People not able to make a decision about when they'd like to bring their vomiting puppy in for an exam because of the exam fee (turned out to be positive for parvo and this clinic requires a $500 deposit). I still had nice people to deal with, patient people that waited while I figured stuff out, they just seemed to be in the minority.

One of the techs I don't much care for. I think it's just a personality difference. However, I just don't much care for her. For starters, from the get-go this morning she's telling me that she has four treatments in back and that she'll need help cleaning the 8,000 square foot clinic. I tell her I will be able to take care of the front half (lobby, reception, exam rooms and front bathrooms). For some reason, she keeps telling me every time she comes up front. I'm not sure why. She kept telling me that I would have to do the front half of the clinic . . . yes, I'm pretty sure we've covered that. All day this happened. She kept telling me how much she had to get done today, while I'm up front alone fielding all the phone calls and the live people, checking people in and out, putting people in exam rooms and cleaning said exam rooms. I've got this shit covered.

This tech, at noon, comes up front and says she's taking her lunch. We take working lunches as we stay open during "lunch". So she sits at the counter behind me and eats her lunch. While I still continue working. Before I can ask if she'd watch the front while I fixed my sandwich, she's done with her lunch and eating her big ass bag of Doritos on her way back to the treatment area. I went and found a fork, made a half sandwich instead of a whole because I figured it would go stale while I worked. Fortunately for me, I was smart to have nabbed two of my mother's wonderful homemade chicken strips as well. I devoured my half sandwich, never really tasting it and then nibbled on the two chicken strips for the next three hours. And she still continues her little schpeel about the cleaning. Pretty sure I got it.

In the afternoon, my tech (Tech 1) gets relief in the way of a tech from our other office. (Btw she's had help all morning, we have a surgery tech Monday through Friday who leaves at 2). So she always had help, but she got help again. The other tech (tech 2) came over to see what treatments we had for tomorrow so she could come in for a couple hours on Saturday because  Tech 1 will be over her 40 hours if she comes in early to do the many treatments she's been complaining about all day long. I still get no help up front. Heaven forbid.

Around 3pm I started with trashes from reception, bathrooms, and exam rooms. It took me an hour because apparently people still kept calling and coming in. Somewhere around 4ish I was able to start dust mopping. And somewhere around 5ish I started mopping. I was finally able to sit down and do the money at 5:25. I was off at 5:30 and I hadn't done it by myself at this clinic (their way) before. It's fairly involved.

Everything was off. I was about ready to take my head to the counter top, when Tech 1 came in. I asked her to double check me. Same thing. We called our FOM and she came in to help us (she happened to be nearby, thank God). After a half hour of OT, we finally figured most of it out. The credit cards were off, because apparently a credit slip had fallen off the counter and behind something and I hadn't been aware of it. The checks and the cash were off because evidently a check went through as cash. We were still over on cash, but better over than under, so our FOM said, "let's not wrack out brains over it." She was glad this happened so she could show us how to fix these sort of things. Good learning experience. Because Tech 1 and I both learned. We printed all our reports, filled out our deposit and called it a night.

My parents called in a pizza and I picked it up and took it home.

Now, wait until you hear about Saturday . . . 

I am the world's biggest idiot

Yeah. That's me. World's Biggest Idiot.

Please give me a pat on the back. I already have.

Last night, while using my phone to accept new comments on a recent post, while trying to make the writing on the screen bigger so I could no only read it, but actually be able to hit the right links and stuff (and you know, not hit the wrong ones), I somehow managed to actually delete the most recent 50 freaking comments. You literally could have knocked me over with a feather.

Holy crap. And I can't figure out a way to get them back.

I nearly cried.

I love your guys' comments. I try to reply to all of them. And all of those are gone. Well, at least the most recent 50.

My forehead stung for an hour because I hit it so freaking hard.

How could this have happened?!

Oh right. I know. My bumbling fingers did this. Managed to hit all the wrong buttons. Literally. This is what I get for using my phone . . . right?

So, yeah. You can just call me WBI for short.

I am going to continue to wallow in shame and stupidity.

Hope y'all have a better, non-comment-deleting weekend.

*sigh*

Bring it, Monday, bring it.

Talk about another crazy day at the vet clinic. I know y'all are floored, aren't you? A crazy day at the vet's? Never!

Be that as it may, it was indeed, quite insane. Mostly for poor Dr. J, who was a bit frazzled by 9am. Our one surgery showed up at 8am, even though we don't typically do surgeries on Monday. While Dr. J did the dog spay, we had people calling and piling in faster than you could say "Bob's your uncle".

By 8:30 we had a hit by car coming in, an old horse with chronic founder, foxtails in ears, plus the normal array of vaccines. Later we added, a dog that fell off a deck, a St. Bernard with a supposed cherry eye, a dog with foxtails in its throat, plus the normal array of vaccines.

The dog that was hit by a car is doing okay, seems its hip was popped out of place. Dr. J got it back in and the dog is on limited everything for several weeks to heal. But it should heal just fine.

Oh and one gal who brought in three dogs for vaccines, sat patiently for Dr. J . . . never telling anyone that one of those dogs had a laceration about an inch wide on its side. Dr. J saw it when he got into the exam room, and of course, we needed to clean it up so it didn't get infected. But what all of us were curious about was why in the hell didn't she mention it when she made the appointment or when she checked in? If we had known ahead of time, we could have prepped for it. But no, no mention of it, and it was just one more dog we had to sedate and work on in the back. As far as I know, she didn't even mention it to the vet, he just noticed it first thing. Because who can ignore an inch wide gash on the side of a dog. Ohhh. The owner, that's who. The dog got cleaned up and sent home on antibiotics.

The old horse with chronic founder had to be euthanized. For the non-horse people reading this blog, founder (or laminitis) is a condition that affects the horse's feet, and causes lameness. It can be caused by several things, but most often we see it horses that are on feed that is far to rich for them for too long. It can also be caused by other medical issues such as colic (twisted gut), untreated infections, and even insulin resistance just to name a few. Anyway, the gal had her 5 kids with her and they were all pretty upset, especially her youngest. She'd rescued the horse from an abusive situation 17 years ago, and had given her a good, loving home. If it had just been founder that was the problem, it probably could have been treatable. But she had muscle separating from her spine and her discs were bulging. Dr. J took one look and knew founder was probably the least of the horse's problems.

As you can see, founder (or laminitis) is where the coffin bone (the pointy bone in the picture) rotates. A lot of people with foundered horses x-ray their horses hooves on a regular basis to monitor bone rotation.

The dogs with foxtails were treated and sent home with some ear medicines. For those of you who do not know what foxtails are, you're lucky. Out here in the west, foxtails are our enemies. They are a nasty weed that plague us and our animals every year. And not just dogs. Cattle and horses will get them in their eyes or can ingest them and can get abscesses in their mouths from these things if they eat hay that has a lot of foxtails in them. We see it mostly in dogs - in their ears most commonly, but also up their noses, down their throats, and in their paws.

A patch of the evil foxtail weed

 The evil foxtail barbs - this is what we pull from ears, noses, throats and paws. They are very irritating and painful.

The dog that fell off the deck is doing okay. He's an older dog so he old bones didn't like the fall very much. One of the techs and I carried him from the car to the exam room. He was later carried from the exam room to the back treatment room where they sedated him and treated him.

The St. Bernard with the supposed cherry eye turned out to have a nice-sized abscess on it's upper jaw, under the right eye. The abscess was pushing up on the eye, causing the inner eyelid to push out. I followed the tech to the back to offer assistance as everyone else was taken. As soon as she and I leaned over to pick the dog up, all 103 pounds of him laid out flat on the floor. Nice. We got him up on the table, put him under general anesthesia, and Dr. J came over to take a look. They took care of it and he was sent home later in the day with some pain meds and antibiotics.

The dog with a bunch of foxtails in its throat had a lot of them in there according to Dr. J. But he got them out, and sent the dog home with some anti-inflammatory meds and antibiotics.

Not to mention the people that walked in without appointments for random things. Luckily they were quick random things, but still . . . 

 We made it through the day, our sanity still intact. Well, what there was anyway.

10 Gallons of Crazy in a 5 Gallon Bucket

Yep, that's pretty much sums up my day at work on Wednesday.

You know it's never a good way to start the day when the office manager says to you as you walk in, "Computers are down, sweetie."

I really should have just turned tail and went back home and stuck my head under a pillow.  *sigh*

The full-time receptionist is on vacation this week. So, Dr. J asked me to fill in. So here's where the crazy schedule comes in that even I can barely keep straight. I still had to take a day off so I wasn't working 6 full days. But he wanted me over at the main clinic in Town, so he had the office manager's assistant fill in at the Sticksville clinic for me today. And had me take Tuesday off, which meant all three techs had to take turns playing receptionist, and they don't play receptionist very often. And some of you may remember my post on how reception is the worst position in the clinic - no one wants to fill in for the receptionist.

And because the techs were all playing receptionist on Tuesday, it meant they did, in essence, the bare minimum. They didn't file files back, didn't pull the next day's files, did bare minimum straightening up at the end of the day, and they left everything on. Fortunately, they didn't leave me a disaster of a mess.

So, I come in to the computers being down and the office manager having to call in our computer guy to hopefully fix it quick. Meanwhile, the phones are ringing off the hook with people suddenly wanting to pay their bills over the phone. Must have been something in the water today. I got everything filed away, but only pulled a portion of the files for today's appointments. Why? Because I either couldn't read the person's hand-writing, or the client had a common last name and they didn't take a first name, so I had no idea which Smith or Johnson or Jones they meant. And even though we take phone numbers as well, people change those like they change their freaking socks, so often times we don't have the correct number on file, meaning, the phone number is often useless.

My stack of stuff to enter into the computer keeps getting bigger. I had to manually write up receipts for people, which I do at the Sticksville clinic anyway, but this was on a much busier scale. And doctors and techs keep setting things down in places that are actually meant for something else. Meaning my desk was a freaking disaster zone until closing because I had to keep moving things to the right piles and stacks so I could keep things straight.

The computers were finally fixed around 11am, and then I had to wait half an hour for the office manager to do "end of day" for the previous day, so I while I could look things up, I still couldn't enter anything into the computer. *sigh*

At 11:59, some guy walks in with a cat saying he had an appointment for his cat to get shots, but he'd had a hard time catching him. Okay, I'll give him that. But his appointment was at 10:30am. He couldn't have called to give us a heads up? So, I had one of the girls lock the doors, and he asked, "You guys close at noon?" I smiled and said, "Yes, we close from noon to 1pm for lunch." Never mind that it says so on the sign on the front door with our daily hours. Never you mind that minor detail, sir.

I called in an order to go, went to the bank, picked up my order, and went back to work to eat and work for the remainder of my lunch. It was actually very peaceful as the phones were forwarded to our machine, the lights were off, and no one was around. Even still, I only got maybe half the work done that I wanted or needed to get done. And once 1pm rolled around, the phones rang off the hook again and my lobby was full of people. And to make things similar to morning, doctors and techs were still putting things in piles and stacks randomly because they didn't bother reading the sticky notes I had for myself or asking me where I'd like stuff. The only reason they didn't get kicked out of my little area was because they helped me answer the phones and help the poor souls in the lobby.

It took me all afternoon to finish my pile of "needs to be entered" stuff. Took me all afternoon to get stuff done for the surgeries that get dropped off the evening before. That was just in between the phones and the people in the lobby. And then I finally noticed a little pile of "entered" sheets with a sticky note on them: "please print invoices for these in your spare time". It was in one of the doctors handwriting. I'm sure you could imagine what went through my head. I clamped my mouth shut, put the pile aside and I'm pretty sure I felt steam coming out of my ears for about 10 seconds. In my spare time?! Needless to say, that pile is still sitting there and when I have spare time, I will be more than happy to print invoices for the doctor. It's very easy, but it was definitely on the bottom of the priority list.

In the end, I got a call from Dr. R's wife after I got home about my one boo-boo. In the chaos of today, a "one time only" invoice forgot to get entered (which is all on me). I had run his credit card, but somehow the papers got stuck under another pile or in the wrong pile or the wrong something, and I forgot to actually enter that payment into the computer. I explained the situation and she totally understood and asked me how to enter this "one time only", because she didn't know how to enter in a new client. I told her just do it under the "cash" invoice, because he lives down in Imperial Valley and was up here on vacation, so there's no need to make a file and an account for him when we will probably never see him again. She said she'd take care of it. Considering the day I had, I'm surprised that was my only hitch.

Anyway, by noon I was thinking a Cosmo in a gallon bucket would suffice just fine. Or a vat of a chocolate. Maybe both. By 5pm though, I was thinking of a whole different drink: a "margadaquiriscrewalottaonthebeach" would be just about right.

A lil sumthin'-sumthin' to make your lady bits pucker

Oh yes, folks.

Awhile back we had a cow that had a prolapsed vagina. A pregnant cow, with a nursing calf, with a prolapsed vagina. First, the mere idea of this made me cringe in sympathy for this poor cow. Then I saw it. Yikes!

We were in the middle of work, so I didn't snap a picture of my own, but here's the gist:

 If you're hurting in places you can't mention, then I'm sure you're quite normal. This sort of thing happens on occasion and during a cows pregnancy, can almost be normal. Sometimes when a cow lays down, you might see a little something poking out, but generally not quite this size. When she gets up, it gets sucked back in. I think generally the further along the cow is, the more apt it is to happen. However, once in awhile, in early pregnancy, like what happened with our cow, the above image happened.

This is not something ranchers like to see and take care of, because typically this means that as soon as her current calf is weaned, she'll need to be culled before she calves. If you keep her, you'll have to be there for the birth as there are likely to be complications. So, to save yourself the headache, you'll get rid of her before she calves. Also, once a cow has had this happen, she's likely to do it again, and become a migraine instead of a regular headache.

The vet came out and cleaned it up and put it back in. He also put sutures in to prevent a recurrence. 

So, for our cow, she's still out with her herd-mates, nursing a calf that will probably weaned in the next month. After that, we will amicably part ways.

Last Friday, K calls me a few minutes after 5pm saying they had just pulled a breeched calf (meaning it's butt wanted to come out first), and the cow had a prolapsed uterus. She couldn't remember Dr. J's cell phone from the voicemail, and asked me to call him. I did, and left a message. It was close to 6pm when he finally got back to me, and I told him what was going on. He said he'd call me as soon as he was done with a horse he was working on. About half an hour later, he called me back and told me he was on his way. K and her brother had stayed with the cow in the barn. The calf survived, and is doing well.

Mamma obviously wasn't doing so hot because a vital part of her anatomy was hanging out on the barn floor. Not sure about y'all, but when K told me about the prolapsed uterus, I swear I felt a twinge.

Dr. J and K's brother were the two trying to push this poor cows uterus back inside her body, where it rightfully belongs. Some things we gals just don't want hangin' in the wind. Now, I stole the following pictures from another website, obviously, and I feel I should warn you about their graphicness. As you can imagine, this is a bloody and serious mess, and in the ranching world, is a serious emergency as a cow could easily bleed to death. So, I've given fair warning, these are pretty ugly.

 It's definitely a two-person job. The goal is to safely get all of the uterus back inside, without puncturing it.

 In our case, K's brother kept getting back spasms. You can see why, as it's not as easy position to push on something so heavy.

 It's easy to feel sorry for the cow, as she basically has to lie there and take it. Most times, the cow is given a sedative. Also, as you can see, barn or field, it's a challenge to get it back in clean. (FYI, at this stage, this particular cow in the picture, they got about half of it back in)

 It's also easy to see that Dr. J left my grandparents a bloody mess, literally. He had to basically shower before going to his next emergency. (Yes, he had a late night)

 In the end, a cow gets sutured up, and gets lots of antibiotics to help ward off infection.

Just so you guys know, both cow and calf are doing well. Mama cow is still getting antibiotics, and has bonded well with her calf. We are keeping them in the barn at the moment, so we can easily get her in the head-catch to continue the antibiotics. This cow will probably not get culled from the herd. According to my grandparents, it's not likely to reoccur  - not like the vaginal prolapse.

Oh and poor Dr. J had a rough night. After cleaning up after this bloody mess, he went to look at a horse that hadn't been able to pee for a couple days. Wound up having to do some special surgery that he's never done, as the bladder was so damn big and they knew there had to be a stone somewhere in there blocking up the poor guy. In the end, the pee came gushing out and guess who got hit? Yup, Dr. J. Poor guy.

THIS SUCKS

Libby at lunch today. The vets actually put a pin in this leg to keep it straight, which is unfortunately another issue with her back legs. She's bandaged for a month. Kinda looks like a candy cane . . .
 

I gave Libby her meds this evening. By myself.

It turned into a 15 minute torture fest.

I have a total of 3 pills to give her - Tramadol for pain, Previcox for pain and inflammation, and stool softener because Tramadol will plug you up like there's no tomorrow. Dr. J has personal experience. With the stories to prove it.

I'll spare you.

You're welcome.

She also gets Cephalexin in liquid form - her antibiotic. This is the easiest thing to give her.

The Previcox is the second easiest, as it's beef flavored or something.

The stool softener is on the line.

Tramadol sucks majorly. It's truly bitter. And you try shoving a quarter of a tablet down a Yorkie's throat and see how easy it is for you. Alone.

You could shove that shit to her tail and she'll still spit it back up. Whole.

We used to put it in a hot dog and she'd eat it. Shake her head a lot, but she'd eat it. Then she started spitting it out. So my mom crushed and tried putting in a hot dog. Stopped working. My grandmother suggested butter. That worked for about two days.

Now the second you touch her face in the manner that you do when giving meds, she starts thrashing her head around and then progresses to something akin to an alligator's death roll.

Since this torture-fest, I've been getting the saddest little puppy dog eyes ever. Like, it beats Puss N Boots on Shrek.

Yep. I'm talking serious business.

I feel like I've severely hurt her feelings.

I feel lower than pond scum.

And I have a full 7 to 10 days of this.

I just finished day one.

This is going to be a long-ass week.

Craptastic Wednesday

8:00 am: Roll into work a couple minutes early (like 7:55) to find some guy sitting in his SUV waiting for me. He has a dog in his back seat. I couldn't figure out on my own what the dog and the guy were doing at the clinic because all of my four cat spays had been dropped off the afternoon before. I didn't have time for more. I wave at the guy to follow me in, where he then tells me that his dog still has a drain inside of it. Uhhhhhh........ He said the dog  chewed off the end of the drain that had been sticking out, but he can still see something inside this gaping hole. I had him drop the dog off and told him I'd call him when his dog was ready.

8:10 am: Finally get around to listening to the two messages on the machine. And I'm just realizing (at 5:30pm) that I forgot to call someone back..... The second message is from Dr. J telling me to "pop a cat" (meaning to anesthetize it) as he was on his way. As I'm listening to the message I heard the back door and looked up to find Dr. J standing  there. Oops.

8:15 am: Popped two kitties and a few minutes later was prepping for surgery. Took opportunity to bug doc about Libby. Update: Libby still at vet clinic in Town. Not using leg much, but is at least now setting it down while standing; he says it can easily take dogs two to three weeks before they start using leg much at all. Then its two months of healing before right knee is done. Goes to bathroom regular (which is good with all the meds she's on). Mention I'll be delivering publication to Redding this weekend; he says we'll talk about it Saturday. I hope he says Libby can go home because my mother is starting to drive me a bit nutso. (Love you tons Mom!)  :D  (please don't hit me)

8:30 am: A gal calls and says, "My neighbor trapped an extra cat, but has already taken two cats over to Town. Can you guys squeeze in an extra spay? Or well . . . we don't what the gender is." I explained to this gal that we had four spays already and that we didn't have time. She countered with, "well he won't be able to trap this cat again." Sigh. I talk to Dr. J and he just looks at me. Then he says that if I can get a spay pack autoclaved he can do it over lunch. So I tell the gal to have the cat dropped off and we will do it during our lunch hour. I kinda wished he had charged her extra. Is that wrong?

9:00 am: Second kitty is prepped and on the table, the doc doing surgery. Some guy comes in the front door:

Him: "I have two cats here for their vaccinations. I have an appointment." 

Me: I looked at the book and state, "You're an hour early. I have the doctor in surgery."

Him: "Well I have other things to do."

Me: OMG Seriously? Then why bother making the damn appointment??? "If you'd like you can drop them off and pick them up later this morning."

Him: "That will work."

9:15 am: Pop two more kitties and try to keep surgery area clean while answering the phone which has been ringing every two minutes since 8:15. People calling with their dire need to get their pets vaccinations today, even though I don't have anymore space and then we have the vet out on ranch calls 3/4 of the day.  I was double booked for 9:45, triple booked at 10:00, and so forth until 11am.

9:20 am: Third kitty on the table, doc starting surgery. I keep trying to do something productive, however that pesky phone keeps ringing and I can't ever find the stupid thing because I keep leaving it some place different. Three phones and I can't find a single one. Yet it still rings. And rings some more. I've also come to realize that though these cats are zonked, they still want to curl up into a ball, which makes trying to pre-prep them for surgery not easy.

9:40 am: Fourth kitty on the table, doc starting surgery. Our appointments start showing up. The first gal has never been to us before, so I have her fill out the contract and take down pet info. In the meantime I'm still helping Dr. J with stuff as he's finishing surgery. Dry cleaned surgery pack and quickly put it together, refill water in autoclave, put surgery pack in autoclave, and seal it up and turn it on. Second gal walks in and get her info, still helping Dr. J. Third gal walks in and she's got a dog with an abscess on its jaw but she can't bring it until the office is clear of cats. Um. Okay.

10:00 am: Surgeries are finally done, all kitties back in their carriers, surgery stuff pushed out of sight. Will clean up later. Call back first appointment, 15 minutes late. First gal with stray she picked up. Do vaccines, Dr. J pulls blood (which at 7pm just realized that I forgot to send blood over to Town with Dr. J . . . DAMMIT!), and she pays just under $200 for a stray. The CBC/Chem/T4 was altogether $160. Doc was nice and left off the $40 exam fee. I still thought she might keel over.

10:15 am: Call back second 9:45 appointment, quick and easy vaccines. As she's paying, 4th gal comes in for her 10:30 appointment. Dog has grown too much, so I quickly scold Petey for growing so much. He's not so easy to pick up and cuddle with anymore. Get second gal her receipt. Third gal brings most uncontrollable Weimaraner I've ever seen. Dog struggles on the table, owner has to attempt putting muzzle on because Dr. J can't do it without losing fingers. Owner asks me to hold onto dog's butt so he doesn't slide off exam table. Big mistake. Dog rounds on me, my life flashes before my eyes and I jumped back into my desk. Owner finally gets muzzle on, dog gets muzzle off. Repeat three more times. Doc suggests sedation. Owner declines. I suddenly tune them out so I have no idea what Doc suggests to owner. But they don't leave soon enough. Third gal with uncontrollable dog barely gets dog out of office before getting into a dog fight with cute Petey. Weimaraner would have had to die if he'd messed with Petey, because Petey actually behaves. It's called dog training you irresponsible pet owner.

10:30 am: Dr. J realizes he forgot cast cutter. Has a ranch call at 11am to cut cast off a calf's leg. Calls the main clinic in Town and asks one of the techs if she has time to run it 30 miles over the mountain. He then calls ranch to tell them he'll be about twenty minutes late. By this time, he's played phone tag with two people who called while he was in surgery. He's played phone tag with family as his mom was having a procedure done in SoCal today. During this time I check the autoclave and the temperature is rising. Should be done by noon - yay!

10:45 am: Call 4th gal back with Petey for his rabies shot. Visits with doc about her knee - apparently has been fighting with insurance or something for a much needed knee surgery for over a year. Hopes to be getting it soon. 5th gal comes in, for a quick shot for her cat. 

10:50 am: Send Petey on his way. Call 5th gal back. Done in two seconds. Easiest appointment of the day. I told her as such. Sent her on her way. Gal calls and says the cat that the ticks in his ears earlier needs to be seen. Something still wrong with ears. She's insistent. I finally tell her to come by at 12:30 during lunch since we will be doing surgery on lunch. Gee, what's one more freaking appointment?!

11:00 am: Grab dog from back to check on this whole 'drain left inside' thing. Doc says drain should have come out 3 days after surgery, can't believe drain could still be inside two months later. PLOP!! We just stared at each other. Both of us be damned, but that drain was still inside. Doc flushed wound, sent dog home with antibiotics. No charge for anything.

11:10 am: Tech shows up with cast cutter. Doc runs off to ranch call with it. Check autoclave, in the green zone - perfect! Let tech get her morning off her chest as apparently it was a clusterf*** over in Town as well. Must be something in the water. She runs off to grab lunch, realize I'm starving and know I won't get a real lunch today. Sigh.  Put other surgery pack in tub to soak in warm water and Nolvasan. Clean up vaccine syringes. Guy calls with questions about vaccinating cows that are aborting. Take name and number, tell him will talk to doc and call back.

11:30 am: Text K to please bring me a sandwich for lunch. Says she will. Clean up surgery area. Post on Facebook via my phone, "What a craptastic day! Stop the ride I want off!" (thanks to Average Girl, craptastic is my new favorite word)

Noon: K shows up with two sandwiches, peanuts & M&M's, a bag of Ruffles, and two Diet Pepsi's. Complete with napkins. Awesome grandmother. Shut down autoclave, open steam vent. Dr. J calls says, "on my way, pop kitty." Set trap on surgery table, draw up stuff. First attempt the syringe doesn't make it in kitty's thigh. Instead it sprays all over kitty's leg. Well damn, that's not gonna work. Draw up more, try again - success! Guy shows up to talk to doc about aborting cows. Have him wait in lobby.

12:10 pm: Doc shows up, I start prepping kitty for surgery. Check kitty for balls, hoping for a neuter, no such luck. Doc talks to guy, gets him squared away with proper vaccines. I write up ticket, send guy on his way. Gal shows up with cat with bad ears. Tell her to wait. I start eating lunch, tell Doc that K made a second sandwich if he wants it. Doc begins surgery, can't find uterine horns, tells me to check for balls - still none. Tells me to check ears for notching - ears are whole. We both stare inside and whoop! finally grabs a uterine horn. Would have high-fived, but he was in surgery.

12:30 pm: Doc finishes surgery on cat. Call in 6th gal to check cats ears. Left ear good. Right ear bad. Cat keeps shaking head, liquid flying all over. Figure it's slobber. Look down at smock, see blood spatter. What the hell? Find out cat had been in fight had scab on left ear, we had broken scab while looking in ear. All blood got on me, table and wall. None on doc or owner. Yay. Give owner medicine for cat's ear which has a ruptured ear drum. Wants to leave cat at clinic for couple of hours to make sure left ear doesn't bleed again. Owner leaves, I have bloody mess. Spend time in bathroom wiping off my face. GROSS. Change smock (fortunately there are extras at clinic).

1:00 pm: Doc heads out to afternoon ranch calls, running off with second sandwich and a water. Call dog's owner to pick up dog. Gal comes in for fluids on her dog. Guy shows up to work on electrical in back room. Doc calls while on road, having suddenly forgotten where he was going. I tell him.

1:20 pm: People are finally gone, except for electrical guy. Re-clean surgery after lunchtime spay. Finish putting away supplies unloaded from doc's truck at 8:15am. Put second surgery pack in another tub to soak in warm water and Nolvasan. Guy comes in to pick up dog. Send him home with antibiotics for dog. Decide not to tell him that drain should have come out two months ago.

2:00 pm: Finally get to sit down to clean up the disaster that is the front desk. Realize two minutes in I have prescriptions to refill, owners will be in soon. Stand back up to refill prescriptions.

2:10 pm: Sit back down to actually work on disaster desk. Write-up receipts for all surgeries. Write in charts for morning appointments, transcribe money onto cash/balance sheet. Fax credit card slips to main clinic in Town. Fax over new client/patient info. Have to keep waiting for fax machine to redial, evidently Town's fax machine is overwhelmed. I'm not helping.

3:00 pm: Doc shows back up, makes me clean bull ejaculator which is covered in bull shit. Literally. Yay. Guy shows up for prescription refill. Send doc off to final ranch call with clean bull ejaculator. Gal shows up to pick up kitty with bad ears.

3:15 pm: Gal comes in to pick up noon surgery kitty in trap. She gets all talkative, and I start running out of patience. Charge her, hand over kitty. Fax over her credit card slip.

3:30 pm: Gather up all the trashes. They are exceptionally full today. Finally realized phone hasn't been ringing off hook since before lunch. Yay! Guy comes in to get two surgery cats. Billed to Humane Society, send him home with cats.

3:50 pm: Trash done. Start doing money. Gal comes in to get last of surgery cats. She used to work at this clinic, sympathizes, so I complain about my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Take her money and send her home with cats.

4:10 pm: Finally get back to money, get it all squared away. Electrical guy leaves, will be back the next day - should be done then.

4:20 pm: Get wish-list, money, etc. back in box to back to Town with doc. Doc shows up with not one, but two dirty bull ejaculators. Yay. Bleh.

4:30 pm: Send him back to main clinic with two clean bull ejaculators, two bags of trash, and the box of stuff. Fist bump, and say, "see you Saturday". Go to close back door, and realize the neighbor was watching us through kitchen window. Creepy. Go back inside, scrub both surgery packs. Fax over new appointments made for future Wednesdays to main clinic.

4:45 pm: Start shutting off lights, turn signs to "closed", grab my stuff, and get the hell outta there.

5:00 pm: Have kicked off shoes, taken two Advil, fed cat, and sat down on couch. Holy shit, I'm exhausted!