What? I Post... Now And Then...

Just popping up inbetween midterms and walking pneumonia (ask me about my "Muttley laugh"!) to share this brilliant video. Enjoy!

Move Along, Nothing to See Here...

So, where I have I been? Working at the toughest fucking two years of school I've ever experienced. I will never make community college jokes again. Graduate school had nothing on this vet tech program. My brain is constantly fried and I am lucky if I have time to scratch my ass in between classes and studying.

I only hope that I am learning the skills and diligence necessary to be a good veterinary nurse. I have a feeling I will not stay in that particular profession for long, but I have learned more and more how important it is to be at your best at all times to provide the best possible care and comfort in a medical profession. Also, you have to be able to put up with a lot of shit, both metaphorical and literal. If it's not shoveling puppy poo, it's dealing with people so obnoxious you can't believe they haven't been killed by somebody, yet (and they may yet be, before long). One of my instructors seems to have dedicated her life to making people miserable. I imagine that once I get into practice, there will be the usual asshole clients, supervisors and coworkers. But once I graduate and pass my state exams, I will gladly exercise my right to fight back or quit if anyone ever treats me that way again. Until then, I remain quiet and persevere.

So, that's my life in a nutshell. Mrs. Nator is fine, still keeping out an eye for that dream job. We have a warm apartment and the cats and turtles are all as neurotic as ever. In a few days, we will have the first ever black president of the U.S., which is still amazing, even if we are mad at uncle Barry for Rick Warren.

Maybe I will get more time in the future to re-instate this blog. In the meantime, peace to you all and try not to do anything stupid.

XOXO,

- DN

Just A Leech On The Groin Of Society

Mrs. Nator surprised me yesterday. She told me that she'd been working out some figures, and decided that it would be better for us to take out another loan until I graduate, rather than having me find another job.

Do you think it had something to do with the hour-long crying jag/anxiety attack I had that morning?

Yes, school has been more intense than I ever imagined it. "A two-year degree at a community college," thought I. "How hard could it be?"

I did not realize that the reason they have about a 100% rate of graduates passing the licensing exam and getting jobs immediately is because most of the students wash out before graduation. Nor did I realize they essentially cram three or four years' worth of information into two straight years, with almost no break, since we have summer internships. Finally, I did not realize how the thought of possibly screwing up and hurting an animal - as I nearly did by mis-placing my first solo endotracheal intubation into the dog's esophagus instead of her trachea - would raise my already high anxiety generator to nuclear meltdown levels.

So, thank you Mrs. Nator. What's another few thousand in debt when at least we haven't defaulted on a mortgage or lost our shirts in the stock market? Now, I hope, I can focus on studying, rehabilitating my leg, and learning how to meditate the stress out and the confidence in. I'll make you proud, I promise.

Glass Half Full

I broke my uninsured cell phone - but the nice young man at the service center got me a free replacement phone as a courtesy! So, all I lost were some blurry photos from a Joan Osborne concert and a few phone numbers, not several hundred dollars.

I had to schlep to the city and wait a long time to get the phone - but I got to sit in lovely Bryant Park and watch the Polish Day Parade at one end and some quaint old French guys playing petanque on the other - now that's cultah!

I had to leave my job because of my knee injury - but the head receptionist at the office has to be out for a couple months, so they might hire me back at the front desk!

My days off from school are over - but that's great, because I seem to get all stressed out when I don't have a structured day and things to do!

I can't afford any new clothes - but you can't even tell that I patched my favourite old jeans!

We are durn near broke this month, what with my accident and loss of employment - but there's a two-for-one special on spaghetti sauce at the Latino supermarket!

This message has been brought to you by the Campaign to Get Me To See Some Silver Linings and Stop Wallowing Pathetically.

Excerpts from a Zoo Intern's Journal, Pt. II

Names and details fudged to protect the innocent and influential.

I help change out the dove’s paper. The frogs get specially distilled “Culligan water” every day and get powdered (not gut-loaded) crickets every other day. We are supposed to give them plenty, so they never have to fight over food. They also get misted with the Culligan water. W is pleased that I know this is because chlorine is bad for their skin, which they breathe through. Their lamp, like the turtles’, is a large UVA/UVB spot, and they are kept at around 82 °F. No wonder I’m sweating in here!

The birds get diets of mixed veggies, fruits, seeds and other stuff, like “soft bill” mix for the dove, ½ in the morning and ½ in the evening. We have to put the birds’ food bowls in a larger dish of water to form a “moat,” because there is an ant problem in this building. If you look closely enough in almost any area animals are housed, you see lots of tiny ants sniffing around for scraps. Frankly, working with animals and their food in old buildings in the middle of a park in summer, this is probably the least offensive problem they could have.

W also shows me the notation system on the whiteboards, which matches the zoo database. Each animal has an assigned number and code. They also have a numbering system by gender, where, for example, 0.0.3 stands for 3 mantella frogs of unknown gender, and 0.1 stands for one female fruit dove. There are notations for what rooms the animals are in, as well.

By the way, if you introduce a new animal into quarantine, all the other animals in the room go back to day one of the thirty days, too. However, according to W, there are “grey areas” where the full 30 days is judged unnecessary. I imagine that there would have to be, with the limited space they have.

W takes me in to see keeper Isabela in ISO. ISO here is not really an isolation unit, but a sort of holding area. It’s full of fish tanks, aquariums with bugs, snakes, turtles, lizards and frogs in them, and a separate room where some other animals are being held because they are supposed to be moved elsewhere. W gets the impression that I’m a herp nut (well, I do like them) and thinks I’ll enjoy looking around. They do a lot of water quality checks here, usually in the morning, and W later tells me that learning how to do that got her her first job at the NY Aquarium. I hope I get to learn that while I’m here.

Back in the clinic, she enters info into the database system the use. Holy cow – it’s on DOS! Another small budget constraint, I guess. W says she used to be a computer programmer in C++, by the way, so that must particularly annoy her.

The vet, Dr. R, comes in, and things become a whirlwind. She does a bandage change on the scalped tragopan (a type of pheasant). I keep an eye on the anaesthesia settings as she explains the exposed bone of the skull must be kept moist. She is intentionally a bit rough with the wound area to promote blood flow. They use a rectal probe for the pulse oximeter. Both she and W are pleased when they forget they meant to pull up fluids and I ask if they want me to do it for them. I feel like having to be on my toes at the hospital is maybe helping me out a little bit.

Meanwhile, I’m noting where all the supplies and meds are, and that they use PDS-II 4-0 sutures and give fluids near the rear of the bird to avoid the air sacs. W tells me the pocket under the dorsal hinge of the leg is a good place. After applying SSD, they discuss with the supervisor whether there’s any medical reason for the tragopan not to go back on exhibit. The doctor takes a Sharpie and colors in a piece of Duoderm, testing to see if the ink will bleed through. It doesn’t, so they put it on the bird and she’s ready to go. Up close, she looks like she’s wearing a little birdie yarmulke, which I guess will match all the little Chasid boys running all over the zoo. We are near a famous Jewish neighborhood, after all.

Next up is a Western screech owl with a chronically inflamed joint on her wing. They take radiographs (which I develop) and blood samples. The owl skeleton, particularly the head, with its enormous eye sockets, is very cool. Unfortunately, the bone looks like it’s part of the growth, so they discuss amputation as they wake her up.

Now we have Hydrox, an elderly guinea pig whose hair sticks up in clumps like an anime character. I keep processing rads and track of where W is getting the supplies from, like the formalin sample jar, catheters, slides and surgery pack. They are checking out a wound on Hydrox’s foot and taking a biopsy of a growth in the lower conjunctiva of her eye. They don’t have some of the instruments Dr. R wants, so she MacGuyvers something out of a scalpel and some wire. She is clearly really good at what she does.

They use DMSO on Hydrox’s foot to help her absorb the medication. The supervisor grinds her claws down with a dremel, as long as she’s out, anyway. Her rads show she is full of gas – poor thing – so they give her Gas-X, as well. Her veggies will be rationed to discourage bloat. She takes a long time waking up and it worries us a bit, so she’s put in the incubator to recover. I make her up a paper tray of food and wish her well.

Heading to lunch, I meet Stu the fish crow, who calls out “hi!” from his enclosure near the clinic. There are chipmunks all over and wild bunnies zooming through the undergrowth. I guess the zoo is a haven for the wild local critters, as well.

By the sea lion pool, I meet up with zookeeper Dalli, so she can let me into the locker room. She is stopped by a woman, grandchild in tow, who says “oh, there used to be bears and other big animals here. I remember when it was a really INCREDIBLE zoo… about 45 years ago.” When she leaves, Dalli and I share an eyeroll. “Oh, back when they used to keep elephants in trash-compactor sized cages, you mean?” we snort. Sadly, this is not even close to the most ignorant comment I will hear from visitors as my internship progresses...

Excerpts from a Zoo Intern's Journal, Pt. I

Names and details fudged to protect the innocent and influential.

Day one. Although we corresponded beforehand about my sizes, the supervisor didn’t have time to look for a uniform for me, so we spend the first 15-20 minutes searching. What are the odds they have other fat zookeepers? Aren't they usually outdoorsy, willowy people with ponytails? Surprise! None in my size. Fortunately, I brought scrubs.

A call comes over the radio that one of the ferrets has crashed and needs to be taken to the clinic stat. A senior zookeeper rushes out with the limp critter in a carrying case and we all run over to the clinic. (I learn here that my boots are going to be too stiff.) Heloise has collapsed before, but not this badly. She was flat out in the middle of her cage, which is a sorry sight when you know that ferrets are usually hidden in their bedding or zipping around like they are on fast forward.

W., the vet tech, administers dextrose and fluids both SQ and PO for hypoglycemic shock. Heloise slowly revives, but is still blinking and stumbling a bit when Karen OKs her to go back to her cage. Pitiful! One of the veterinarians is coming in today, so they will run bloods and consult on her problem.

...

Later, W. walks me through the clinic. She shows me how to run the radiograph processing machine, which is pretty straightforward. The smell of the chemicals brings me back to my darkroom and retouching years in high school and college. Next thing you know I'll be putting on a black beret. W. says their budget isn’t huge, and they just got the machine about a year ago. All rads were hand-developed before that. It’s quite a difference from the digital set-up at my job. Fancy emergency hospital group, meet small, non-profit zoo.

All animals are kept in quarantine 30 days, more if they end up housed with later arrivals. In quarantine right now are a green-winged king parrot, 2 monkey frogs and, in the back room, 2 mata mata turtles and a nervous fruit dove. There’s also a tragopan –a type of pheasant- elsewhere in the clinic that was scalped by another bird. I can’t get into her area, nor am I allowed in with the macaques, for liability reasons. I’m a little sorry about the macaques, but not at all about being banned from being near the Hamadryas baboons. Those guys are one of the few animals I am actively frightened by. They're all aggression, muscle and teeth.

...

Karen shows me basic husbandry – hosing down enclosures, feeding, etc. I have to be extra careful to watch the drains if I have the covers up, so animals don’t go down them. The parrot, “Holly” according to W., is an escape artist, too. I am do a head count on everyone – especially the tiny, jumpy mantella frogs – and to note feedings on and the animals' health on cards. The mantellas are poison dart frogs I've never seen before, ebony black with outlines in yellow, green and orange. "It's okay, I've been to your cloud forest and respect you," I silently tell them. Hop, hop, suspiciously hop, the mantellas say.

The mata matas get around 10-12 minnows every couple days and have an optimal water temperature of 80-85 °F - similar to my red-eared slider turtles. The mata matas are so COOL! They look like lumps of leaves with triangular heads. The shells are covered in pointed peaks, and their skin is covered in irregular nodules and flaps, to make them look all the more like plant litter at the bottom of a creek. Their tiny snouts just poke up out of the water. Just when you think they're ugly, you look closely enough at their alien faces, and their mouths turn up like a happy-face smile...

Beat That, Whitman's

Well, my Valentine's Day involved a room full of dead cats, violent illness in a subway station bathroom, commemorative glow sticks, men dancing awkwardly while dressed as nuns, silly string, and Rufus Wainwright singing in drag as Judy Garland. Oh, and Mrs. Nator was there, too.

How was yours?

Stay Tuned...

I know I have been mainly absent or boring around here, but finals are coming and I'm negotiating a job offer I got. I am really interested in working at this place, but need to hammer out some financial details. I won't share too much until I'm a little more sure, but please wish me luck. I hope to be more interesting again once I've gotten this worked out!

The News from Here

1. I officially got into the clinical vet tech program!!! OK, it was unlikely that I wouldn't, but that didn't keep my hands from shaking when I opened the letter. Next stop: Modell's, where I can finally cash in an old gift certificate for my first set of scrubs! (And possibly a Giants cap, for obvious reasons.)

2. Skype kicks Yahoo Messenger's ass, yo. I mean, I've been trying to get this VOIP thing going for months so I could record my AC consultations for my clients, and I could not stop my calls from getting dropped. First the headset was for crap, then I was afraid it was my cable connection. Now I know I just should have been paying the extra money for Skype. It's worth it to actually be able to hear both ends of a conversation and not have malfunctions every few minutes. Now, if I can just get my recorder to register both speakers at a reasonable volume...

3. I still don't have a job. But! I had two AC clients today, a follow-up on a web job, and a referral from a classmate to an opening at the vet hospital where she works. Progress?

4. I am disturbed to inform you that now I cannot look at my cats without imagining their skeletons. Unfortunately, my first cat dissection will finally happen on Tuesday. I think I'll get through it okay; I just hate the thought of imagining slabs of dessicated meat every time I hug my critters.

5. Tomorrow night we see Kathy Griffin! Woo!

Further bulletins as events warrant, y'all.

Did You Ever Have One of Those Moments

... where an entire song you wrote when you were maybe seventeen years old, but had completely forgotten, comes back to you in its entirety, and you think "wow, that was actually a really good song," but you realize that, although you could put so many deeper nuances of emotion into it now that you are older, you probably can't sing all that well, anymore, and maybe weren't as good at the time as you thought, either?

No? Well, then.

P.S.: I had a really intriguing job interview yesterday. As in, I'm beginning to think it might be possible to have an interesting job I care about while going to school to study something else I care about. Hmmm.

What I Learned In Lab Class

Behold the lamprey: not quite an eel, not quite a fish, not even quite a vertebrate. In other words, one weird-ass mothafukkin animal, my people. Damn.

What you see at its front is essentially an extended upper lip with nary a lower lip in sight. Lampreys are jawless. They sort of have heads, but you'd be hard pressed to find exactly where they end and the body begins (not to mention their brains are barely more than a cluster of cells). Their front ends are basically sensory organs with that big mouth at the end, which functions like a suction cup with teeth in it. They glom onto a hard-spined fish, stick to them and rasp away with those teeth, ingesting the fish's blood and tissues. Their tongues even have teeth on them!

I have stuck my finger into this maw - and lived!

Their skeletons are cartilaginous, like sharks, and they have both a nerve cord, which is similar to a spinal column, minus the vertebrae, and a notochord, an early version of the vertebral column which is much less rigid, and is now found in mainly lower forms and embryos (yes, you had one, too, early in your development). A bizarre throwback to ancient times, fossilized records show that they may not have changed in over 360 million years. Judging from the condition of our dessicated dissection specimen in lab class, it was probably among the first.

1. nerve cord, 2. notochord, 3. the eggs that become millions of little lampreys waiting to suck your braaaaiinnns!

My first dissection went fairly smoothly, considering the condition of the specimen and the fact that the scalpels in those dissection kits are about as sharp as prison-issue sporks. The lamprey was actually pretty small, so it's a stretch for eyeballs over thirty years old to see all the mushy parts, especially since doing so meant getting close to that smell. However, I did it, and I made a new friend in one of my new lab partners. It turns out she is a geeky gay white girl, too. In fact, she's so gay, geeky and white, she makes me look like Snoop Dogg. Let me put it this way: we ended our conversation by talking about the origin of slash in Star Trek fiction. For further research in lab: how did the idea of Kirk, Spock and McCoy all getting it on at once not kill slash in its infancy, if not actually kill homosexuality altogether? Discuss.

Do not try this at home.

After a long-ass lecture, delivered in an outrageous French accent by our professor (thank goodness I did the reading), I filled in an application at a local vet's office, and then went home to find my lab coat had arrived in the mail. Question: if you found out your animal health care professional had run around the house in his or her lab coat and underwear singing "(s)he's the one they call Doctor NOOOO PAAAANTS!", would you entrust him or her with your beloved pet? Does it help to know it was to the tune of an old Mötley Crüe song?

All in all, a very productive day. I think I'm going to enjoy this class. It makes me feel AAAAWL RIIIIGHT!

May Your Life Be Interesting

What do staring up at a giant whale shark, joining in with a sing-along in a nursing home, getting frisked in an airport after losing your i.d., getting scheduled for a root canal after experiencing blinding pain, purchasing a dissection kit, being called by a NY Times reporter for an interview and having sudden onset diarrhea on a mass transit train all have in common?

These are just a few of the things that have happened to me in the last few days.

I'm going to take a nap now.

P.S.: My cat has just decided for the first time in her life that she must watch me from atop the monitor. What is God trying to tell me?

P.P.S.: Please don't say it's "vote Romney."

P.P.P.S.: Go read Water for Elephants now. It will make you forget all of this kind of shit. Really.

Hot Hot Hot!

What's so hot around here? Is it the fact that I just found out that I got all A grades in my courses this semester, despite the hospitalization?

Is it these views of the Pu'u O'o vent and flowing lava as taken by me from a helicopter over Kilauea volcano in Hawai'i?

(clicky makey biggy)

(clicky makey biggy)

No! It is my stepsister and old friend Liimu and the rest of Patti LaBelle's choir on Clash of the Choirs, 8:00 PM on NBC, tonight and tomorrow! I mean, sure, the show's a little cheesy, but watch them tear it up in this video. Be sure to watch and vote, Vote, VOTE as Liimu is supposed to have a solo on one of the last two nights. Note: she's the one in the front left, light skinned with a black skirt and sparkly top, dancin' like a natural-born foo'.

W00000T!!!

Things Made of Awesome

Last week of finals, my lovelies, but I haven't forgotten you. Here are a couple little things to entertain you in my absence.

1. I love the National Geographic Atmosphere podcast. Here is one filled with faboo cinematography and surprising animals. Bonus points if you know the name of the first critter without looking it up.

2. If that's not enough for you, spend some time perusing American Science & Surplus. It's not just the fun products and cheap prices; it's the little drawings and droll descriptions that get me.

Stay warm, kiddies!

Can't Talk, Studying

Heading into finals. Will I ever be mildly interesting again? Talk amongst yourselves.

Gobble Gobble Hey

Sorry I've been such an absent blogger and not commented on others' blogs, lately. School has been beating my ass.

The good news is, I seem to be beginning to beat its ass back. That's right, I got the results of my latest Chem exam this morning. This was the one I was fairly sure I'd be lucky if I got a 70 on, and figured would probably indicate that there was no way I'd be getting into the clinical program (thus meaning my whole school time was a waste, I was a failure, I should go live in my mother's basement, etc.). Well, guesswhatholycrap I got a 94 on it! Apparently, I didn't have to get all the answers right exactly (although I did almost all of them right, to my surprise), I could get credit for using the correct formulas, setting up my problem accordingly, and showing I did the work. Go know!

Not only that, but the teacher decided to throw in an extra 5 points for everybody, just as "Thanksgiving points" - which means my grade will go down as a 99!

I think I frightened some of my classmates when I got my exam back and doubled over yelping "WHAT??!!" It was a happy yelp, though. This takes so much pressure off me, you can't imagine. I mean, maybe you can, and I still have to keep working hard, but it means my studying paid off, and I'm not in danger of getting below a C (which would surely knock me out of running for the clinical program). I'd started to consider what kind of full-time work I'd have to start looking for when I failed out at the end of the semester, and convinced myself that no matter how hard I studied, I'd never grasp anything about Chemistry, and now this.

I think I can enjoy my Thanksgiving, now.

So, thanks being in order this time of year, thank you to all of you who read my self-involved rants and leave supportive comments. It really does help. Now I'm taking a long nap before I start my reading for my final Intro to Vet Tech project on green sea turtles, and reviewing chapters of Chem. I hope you all have a great holiday, and have some time and space to remember what you have to be thankful for, too.

Brooklyn's Got Talent

Lots of talent. And I've got... a little tiny piece of it.

Which means, aside from working feverishly to catch up in school and get my grades up (which is going... well, it's going), plus beginning to kick the search for any kind of semi-decent paying job into high gear (two interviews with temp agencies coming up, and pouring over listings on the student employment site and various others), I've had a little bit something good going on. I got some unexpected recognition for some of my photos.

Yep, when I recently checked my Flickr account for the first time in weeks, I had two requests to use some of my photos. One of them was a request to us this photo as a slide for a Remembrance Day musical performance in Vancouver. It's a local theatre project and pays nothing, but I was surprised and tickled to have someone just randomly discover one of my photos and ask to use it. I will get some sort of credit in the program, I'm told.

The second request came from a representative at priceless.com, a MasterCard promotion site that posts people's stories and photos of "priceless" experiences they've had. I guess she was searching Flickr, trying to drum up interest in their site, and she liked this set of my photos, because she asked me to submit a brief description of them and let them post them there. This one actually pays something, too. A nominal amount, really, but it's the first time anyone's paid me anything for my photos, so... neat, eh?

Anyway, it's nice to get a little encouragement and recognition while I'm so stressed out about other things. Now if only I could start making more money off my photography, maybe I wouldn't have to resort to temporary admin assistant work to get by for a while... sigh.

...AAAAAAAAAAA...

Chemistry exam on Friday! Help!

Smooches,

- DN

P.S.: Anybody got a freelance or part-time job I can do? I gots lotsa skillz. You don't want us having to move in with one of our mothers on your conscience, do you?

P.P.S.: Anybody know a good malpractice lawyer? Hello?

P.P.S.: Yes, I am still boring. Check back sometime when I'm not in a panic.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

O, hai.

I has a paper, a quiz, three science labs and chemistree hmwrks due tomorrow.

Chemistree makes me dumbm and I no remember partz of cells.

I also has to interviewz at employmentz agencees.

kthnxbai.

Please Pardon The Interruption

What kind of idiot mutilates herself with a granny cart?

I have a giant hole in my leg!

I am so behind on everything in school I am never going to catch up!

The universe is trying to tell me that I made a mistake in going back to school!

I don't WANT to have to go back to doing computer work to make enough money!

I don't deserve anything better!

I am a failure! And unlovable!

It's NOOOT FAAAAAIRRRR!!!

WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Sigh.

Well. I wonder if that got it out of my system?