If you've never had the opportunity, no, privilege, to work with
goats, I highly recommend doing so. For the past couple of weeks,
the 2nd year students are becoming acclimated with
anesthesiology in ruminant species. In order to properly
anesthetize and monitor a goat, one must first learn to rodeo the
goat. These goats have attitudes. If you don't believe me, ask my
fellow classmate who, while leaning forward to give his goat friend
a warm, goat-hug, received a horn to the face, instead. If the
attitude and horns aren't enough, toss in some lice and
simultaneous, ear-piercing bleating from 15 goats in a small,
basement room. I know what you're thinking, "Jaime, I thought you
said it was a privilege to work with goats? Why should I get goat
experience on my vet application if I might get a horn to the
face?" As with any animal we work with, there will be dangers. Yes,
even with "Princess" the 5 lb. Chihuahua. However, after the goat
settles down, you perform your physical exam, and they become more
acquainted with you and your colleagues, they're amusing to work
with and will ALWAYS leave you with a story to share at dinner;
although, I've learned to spare details of the crawling lice.
While our sleepy goat makes its way back to its kennel, I
hastily gather my notes and coffee and make my way to the elevator
to head up to the main floor of the small animal hospital. I look
down at my watch; it reads 9:50am. I have plenty of time to make it
to my next class! I walk into the elevator by myself, the doors
close, and I hit the main floor button. Suddenly, all of the
buttons turn off and I hear this "WHHIIIiiiirrrrrrr…." sound. Hm,
that's odd. I press all of the buttons to see if something,
anything will turn on. Nothing. As I look around this prison of an
elevator, the walls begin closing in on me. I start to panic. I
look back at my watch; it reads 9:57am. I've been in here nearly 10
minutes and I am positive the oxygen level is reaching a critical
low-point. I sit back and think, "What do I have that can save me
from this horrific nightmare?" My iPhone! Luckily, I have service.
I call the front desk of the small animal hospital and articulate
my will and last wishes: "Please give my dog, Khan, a kiss on the
forehead and tell him Daddy will miss him." The receptionist scoffs
and says, "Relax...I'll call someone." Relax?? My steel cubical of
a tomb is becoming warmer by the minute, and I think I'm almost out
of coffee! 10:05am - I am becoming dehydrated and starvation is
quickly ensuing. 10:13am - everyone is in class and won't update
Facebook. What will I do to entertain myself, now?? I decide to
post my experience on Facebook and a few classmates respond,
"Lucky. I wish I was in your shoes." "That's awesome! I think I'll
come join you!" My fiancée responds, "You're a handful." Clearly,
no one understands the severity of my situation. It's a scalding 74
degrees in here, I'm coffee-less, and no one is playing Words With
Friends. 10:27am - the emergency phone inside the elevator rings,
"Hello, are you stuck in the elevator?" I resist a strong urge to
respond with a snide remark. "Why didn't you just pick up the
emergency phone?" she asks. I respond, "Uh, I got nervous,
ma'am."
20 minutes later, the jaws-of-life arrive (a maintenance man
with a 4-inch, homemade elevator key) and the door is pried open
with his strong arms. Parched and starved, I struggle to rise to my
feet and shake my hero's hand.
I've learned my lesson: stop being lazy and take the stairs.