Re-Introduction

Hello! A lot has changed in the years since I started this blog, and after a few year hiatus, a re-introduction seemed like a good idea.

Hi, I go by Nala here on the internet. I'm a small animal veterinarian who works for a large corporate practice, and in my spare time I play World of Warcraft.

I still consider my self a doctor in progress. One of my favorite things about veterinary medicine is there is always more to learn, more to do. You can always go learn something new, some new procedure, some new way to help your patients.

Last year, my big learn was acupuncture. I have an older lab, and I want to keep her comfy and happy forever. Since I know forever is not feasible, as long as possible is my goal. Acupuncture can help with pain control with arthritis and really everything. When I finished my training, I kept thinking, there's a point for that! But I definitely  don't use acupuncture as well or much as I could.

Cause I'm still in progress, and a wimp and scared of failure sometimes.

I thought about doing "a day in the life" but someone already did it much better than I could. She does talk more about the burn out and suicide rate than I perhaps would  have, but it is fantastic. Here is the link to Dr. Bowden's talk.

That's a good, typical day. I went from back to back euthanasias today to a new puppy appointment. It happens frequently. I don't have a phone call slot- I have to work that around appointments. Otherwise pretty similar. We all have our Ollie stories. Some are a success. Some are a failure. And I will carry those with me. And honestly, I worry that the day I don't take those thoughts home with me is the day I just won't care anymore, and should stop treating patients.

Today was a harder day at work than usual. And I came home to my hobby, WoW. Where we're starting mythic work, yay! And we're struggling to get 20 people, have to fill in. And we're working on a new boss. And I just want something mindless that I can be good at, but it's not quite working out.

In WoW, I am an officer in a fairly new guild- been around about 9 months now? It seems like longer since I've known most of the people for years. I've stepped down from raid officer, for someone who kinda blew it off with his real life responsibilities, and some one else stepped in.

And in some ways that also makes me feel like a failure. He's a great guy, and doing a way better job than I ever did. But the support that was given at the start of this tier- and frankly wasted by the guy who wanted the job at first- I was just so conflicted about. Was this help always there, and I didn't ask for or see it? Was it only there now because I wasn't? Was I a failure? Am I bad at this game I've played for so long?

Then I realized I was in a downward cycle of depression. And I spiral up and down, great some days, so unable to bring my self to do the simplest things other days. And some days the fact that my help isn't needed or wanted puts me in a bad place, and some days I'm grateful that I don't have to do anything. And some days I worry that people don't like me, and some days I remember that I'm an adult and who the hell cares?

So I'm a doctor in progress and working on being a healthy human being as well. That last part is such a work in progress. Sleep, eating well- it's tough. The fact that we have a candy bucket at work doesn't help. Though someone did put a few apples in it, which was a nice gesture that I am sure we will ignore in favor of the starburst jelly beans.

So that's me- a messy, emotional ball who will spend a lot of this blog worrying over a variety of daily life issues that plague me. I may occasionally attempt an educational piece, or just an update on progress.

Mostly, this blog is for me- I hold so much in. I haven't told anyone in my support circle about how tough today was, aside from a note that we should celebrate Cinco de Mayo with some margaritas because today was long. And I don't know if I should tell the woman who was crying at her dog's euthanasia with her sons out in the car, when I write her sympathy card, that on post-mortem exam it appeared to be oral cancer and she absolutely made the best decision for a likely untreatable condition. The location of the tumor would make surgery really a bad option, and he was 15, with a heart murmur, cryptorchid with one testicle larger than the other, and a host of other problems. I already told her she made the least selfish decision she could, and that treating him would likely not have helped and been really tough on him. But I didn't know about the tumor until after she left, and I don't know how to tell her now, if it would hurt or help. But these thoughts and experiences are what keep me in progress instead of stagnating.

So I will sleep on it, with a good margarita from my favorite Mexican restaurant, and write again later.