Dream Journal 10/2/2020
So, I was complaining to my doctor that I have not been sleeping well as I have been having crazy vivid frustration dreams every night so he suggested I try going without alcohol as it can mess with sleep cycles and REM. Now, I will report to you on my dreams based on last night’s habits. Keep in mind that dreams are convoluted and sometimes have segue that don’t make sense
10/1/2020: No alcohol 3 nights in a row now, went to bed having not eaten in 2.5 hours, took some melatonin and 25mg benadryl
Dream: It started with some group releasing a monster from a labyrinth type trap. The gates were opened on both ends and then me and a small group of people had to flee as fast as we could before he got out. The monster was pure evil and would immediately cause the death of anything that came into his view. He could also sway anyone to do his bidding and work for him. There was another beast that was released at the same time – both were human-like but were at least twice the height of a normal human.
My group picked up and traveled with the second creature who was a very wise, all-knowing woman who we thought was also all powerful, but when we stopped at a flea market type place to buy some goods and food, we saw the two creatures talking over the tent (as they were very tall) and I knew that the evil creature was brainwashing our seemingly all powerful leader. I never saw the monster’s face, but he was wearing an open coat that was a rust orange with intricate gold embroidery and was therefore easy to spot. I had to stop the encounter before he completely had her in his trance. I ran quickly behind her so he wouldn’t see me and smacked her really hard and then continued to run – because if he even noticed you, he could have you dead. At one point he was questioning a man who decided to be smug and a smartass and the monster took a whip out and slashed once – completely removing the man’s face and front of his neck and causing his entire body to turn to lava. I remember the guy saying “ouch” and thinking “how can he say anything without a face/neck?”
We ran and jumped onto the roof of a stadium to hide and thankfully our leader came too. We then learned that we were traveling with a young girl who was the monster’s daughter and he was dead set on killing her. He found us on the roof and we fired some special water guns at him and ran. He had brainwashed numerous people to help him find us. One of our group ended up dying, but then she was able to come back and help the girl better as a ghost because the monster could not perceive her. She showed the girl a secret passageway through the house we were in and then, when the monster was in the house, we escaped by jumping out of a third story window onto a trampoline. The ghost girl somehow embraced the girl and silenced the fall.
We then ran to where we thought we would be safe – it was the house of a witch type lady, but she wasn’t a witch in the dream, just spiritual and holding power. We hid out in her place, thinking she could shield us from the monster, but his people found us and raided the house. The “witch” was able to use her power to get the men to aim their guns at each other to prevent them from firing. They merely burned each other with the laser guides.
Something happened here, I can’t remember, I want to say we got away, but had the feeling we would always be running until he found us.
Next, we were at an outdoor party/event that was ending and people were picking center pieces to take home with them. I was delighted to see that the flower bowl I was taking had some live fish in it. The bowl was a flimsy plastic and the water kept sloshing out and I was struggling to keep the fish in the bowl. Some sloshed out and I tried my best to put them back in the bowl. When I got in the car and was buckling up, trying to balance the flimsy bowl, I noticed that I also had a live baby that was used in the center piece. I had mixed thoughts about this. One: I thought it unfair that now I am responsible for another human being just because I picked up a centerpiece. And two: why on earth were babies used as decorations and what if a centerpiece wasn’t taken home, would they just throw the babies away?! I was horrified and made sure to buckle the baby in with me.
When I got home, I went to put the fish away and realized that I had other fish that I had completely forgotten about and had almost no water in their tanks and were all about to die. I frantically filled their tanks and fed them, wondering how I could forget that I had all these fish and thankful they were still alive. As I went around refilling tanks, feeding, and trying to find a spot to put the new fish, I just kept discovering more tanks full of fish that I had forgotten about. Some were busy eating the other fish in the tanks as they were all starving. I tried to move the ones eating others around to different tanks, but kept discovering more larger fish. At one point, I even found a huge red striped snapping turtle who was super angry and I was feeding it horse poop.
That was all I remember. So, I woke up tired. Still so very tired.
New vlog! “Cats be like..”
“Have kids”, they said…
Having children has been a myriad of happiness, frustration, worry, more frustration, and total embarrassment. Sometimes, through all the stress and anxiety of raising young children, you just have to laugh, even if you are also glowing red with embarrassment. One thing I think is important to know about how we have raised our kids for these stories is to know that we do not have any soda (aka Coke for the Georgia folks or pop for the Michiganders) or juices in the house, therefore any cans, bottles, otherwise packaged beverages are either alcohol or milk (the kids mostly drink water).
The Hail Mary
One of the benefits of having multiple children is that at a certain age, you can start to delegate some of your tasks to the older siblings. Sometimes that works and sometimes your son up roots your favorite flowers when you get him to help with weeding the garden. On this particular incident, we were living in Michigan and shopping late at *the best store in the world* “Meijer”. I was by myself with all three kids – ages 6, 4, and 1.5. First, not one person stopped me to tell me how wonderful of a person I was for taking care of my kids like Tony always got when he went to the store with them. Second, I was tired, all three kids were wearing on me. I tried to keep the 4 (Oscar) and 1.5 yo (Calvin) in the buggy with me, but it was getting too full, so I had Oscar feel important by letting him push the cart and tried to convince Calvin that holding onto the side was super fun.
We were almost done shopping when Oscar decided to let go of the cart and start ripping things off the shelves and throwing them in the cart. I went to stop him and Calvin saw his chance. At 18 months, Calvin was already starting to show his true devious self. He took off down the aisle and started across the store. I had no chance to chase him down and keep the peace with Oscar. I felt completely exposed, helpless, frustrated, panicked.. all the emotions. So I delegated. I looked at India and just said “India, go get him”. Like a loyal border collie, she took off across the store, dodging other shoppers, pushing a few over, and when she caught up to Calvin, she took him down. My 6 yo little girl in a sequined tulle skirt body slammed my toddler to the ground right next to an Amish woman and then sat on him until I could get there. The woman just smiled and laughed to herself. India then took Calvin by his arm and dragged him kicking and screaming to the front of the store while we checked out. I just had to laugh and ignore the judging stares.
The Triple Option
My kids attended a Lutheran preschool because of the good reviews it had gotten. They loved that school and were great. One day, they had a dentist come to the school to teach the kids about dental hygiene. When we went to pick India up, she was just as happy and chipper as usual, but her teachers took me to the side for a second. I was used to hearing little stories about how good of an artist she was or how well-behaved and helpful she had been to the class. But this time, they looked a little more concerned. They took me away from where any of the other parents could hear and told us about India’s participation in the dentistry talk.
The dentist had been talking about things that are not good for your teeth and had asked the children to participate by going around the room to each say something. They went around the room and children said jewels like “candy” or “sweets” or any other option but what India decided to add. When it came to be her turn, the preacher asked, “so, India, name something that is bad for you teeth” India spurted out “Whiskey is bad for your teeth!!”
And so, we got a talking to.
Another time, we were at a small group meeting with our church and all the kids were running around in the basement having a great time, while the adults discussed the previous sermon and dug deep into questions and scripture to better ourselves. That’s when Oscar comes running upstairs and says “Mommy, I want whiskey!” Tony and I look bewildered and ask what he’s talking about and he just says that all the other kids have whiskey and he wants some too! Cue all the strange looks between us and the owners of the house – Oscar’s whiskey was another man’s Sprite. They haven’t let us live that one down yet.
The bad call(s)
There were many occasions where our kids lack of knowledge about soda made us look really bad. One, Tony was in line to check out at Meijer and had India with him. The woman checking out in front of them was buying two or three cases of diet coke. India turned to her father and very loudly proclaimed “That woman is buying a LOT of BEER!!”
We went to the Clare, MI Irish festival around St. Patrick’s Day and brought the kids to the craft fair to look at all the amazing things people had created. The kids were actually pretty impressed, but Oscar was most impressed with these model pirate ships someone had made out of soda cans. He dragged me up to the guy who had done it to show me his work and says “Mommy, look at all these boats made out of BEER! I bet daddy would like one!”
More recently, I have been having some stomach issues and went out and bought some sparkling water to get the carbonation without the calories or caffeine to help with the nagging nausea (no, I’m not pregnant – just dying – just kidding). I was picking Calvin up from daycare at a Church and happened to be walking out of the building with another mom and her kid. When I opened the door to put Calvin into the car, he saw my Perrier and shouted loud enough for even Jesus to hear “Mommy, are you drinking BEER?! In the CAR!?!”
Personal foul!
Raising children is a confusing task. No manual comes with them to tell you how to prepare them for the world. At one point in India’s life, I think she was 3, she was very big into Rapunzel and wanted hair like hers and just loved long long hair. She wore nothing but pink and frilly skirts. We were checking out at Target and the young woman checking us out had very short hair – like a pixie cut and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. India was staring at her for awhile and finally spurted out “Mommy, is that a boy or a girl!?!” Mortified, my eyes attempted to leave my skull as my blood rushed to my face. This was just at the beginning of public gender identification issues and I was terrified to have to tell her one way or the other. But I apologized and said, “No, India, she’s a girl.” India said “No, mommy, he’s a boy, he has short hair” I tried to explain to the girl that India was very into Rapunzel and her long hair, but the woman did not look amused or understanding. I felt awful.
Illegal use of hands
Raising boys has been fun in it’s own right. Constantly telling them to get their hands out of their pants, and to pee IN the toilet. Just this weekend, I have had to tell one of the boys things like “You can’t hold your penis and a balloon at the same time!” and at dinner “please wipe your hands off on a napkin and not your underwear!”
The worst time, though was when Oscar was 3 and we went with my brother and his girls along with Tony’s family to the St. Louis Zoo. We were meeting my brother there and were standing in the courtyard just as you walk into the gates of the zoo. People were milling about everywhere, looking at maps, deciding where they would go, reading plaques and signs. If you’ve had kids, you know just how fast they can get away from you especially when you have three and there’s only two of you. Well, we were looking for my brother and Tony’s family was trying to decide which animals to go see first when we lost Oscar. Two seconds and he was gone. We looked around wildly and then found him on the side of one of the walkways, pants around his ankles, peeing into the decorative bushes. He was 3 and just starting to master the art of not peeing in his pants and his tiny yellow arch was already going, so we just laughed and pretended not to see him until he was done, then ran over to cover him up. We were absolutely sure we would be asked to leave the zoo, but I guess no one saw us. Or perhaps, if someone did, they understood what it was like to try and raise young, feral humans.
I hope you had some laughs. I have not been terribly inspired to write lately. If you have any suggestions or topics you would like discussed, please comment.
Let’s hear it for the clients!
So, I’ve written about some of the more annoying things clients can do or ask of us. To be fair, the majority of our clients are considerate and polite. It’s like always having something funny and typically negative to say about your spouse or kids when you’re telling stories in public – if I spent all of your attentive time talking about how sweet my husband can be or how squishy my kids’ cheeks are, you would quickly grow bored and may have to hold back your gag reflex. So, I decided I’d write about the good guys (and gals) who keep me in this profession – and will try to keep it entertaining.
Mr. Dean:
When I was working at my first job in South Carolina, it was my first time being a small animal vet and there was a huge learning curve. When I first met Mr. Dean, he was an imposing character. Older man, gruff, zero time for formalities or politeness. Not that he was rude, but he surely didn’t take the time for making you feel better about yourself. He was a hunter and had his pack of beagles. One of his beagles he brought to me wasn’t “doin’ too good” and we ended up diagnosing with kidney failure.
Mr. Dean was a very concerned owner. He would come to the office and just talk to me about his dog and his condition often and let me know how he was doing. I told him over and over about the basics of kidney failure and that a low protein diet was important to help his dog’s kidneys, but he continued to tell me how he makes him hand rolled meatballs every night for dinner and he “knows it’s not right, but he just loves them”. Then, he finally got to where his dog would eat biscuits. So, every morning, Mr. Dean and his wife would get up and make biscuits from scratch just to feed to their ailing dog.
Eventually, his dog got to the point where it was time to make “the decision” and Mr. Dean asked me to come to the house to euthanize his beloved beagle. This gruff, hardened man softened greatly at this point. It was hard to see, but we had been working so closely with his dog that I knew it was time to say goodbye. After his favorite beagle had passed, he gave me a tour of his property and his “hunting kennels”. These were not your typical hunting dog kennels – they were immaculately clean, the dogs were all allowed into the house at some point during the day. This gruff old man who spends his time hunting rabbits and turkey, even had a couple of turkeys that he had taken in as pets. I don’t know much else about him, but if I died and came back as a beagle, I would certainly want to come back as one of his.
There was one guy that I met after helping him deal with his ailing old boxer and then, eventually, euthanizing. In the next few weeks, we were all so happy to see him come in with a new little bulldog type puppy. That little puppy was just a little hopping ray of sunshine! He made us happy, but most importantly, he made his mourning owner happy. Everything was as usual through puppy vaccines, neuter, and into his first year of life. And then, it happened. The owner rushed this young dog into see us because he had been seizing and would not stop. We worked on him for what felt like forever, giving anti-seizure medicine, placing an IV, running blood, had him on monitoring, but we could not get him to stop seizing. I called my boss as I was still a new graduate and asked what else we could do. He told me to try giving tiny amounts of the euthanasia solution (which is just a concentrated anti-seizure medication) until the seizure stopped.
This was the point where I had to make the decision of whether to allow this dog to continue to seizure or give him euthanasia solution to SEE IF IT WOULD work. This was in the middle of nowhere with no access to emergency veterinary care, I was alone, I was still wet behind the ears, and everyone was looking to me to fix it. I went outside the building and started crying. This was all too much for me. Then I thought of one of the girls working there as an assistant and how I had heard her talk about how weak girls can be in situations of stress. So, I stopped crying and went back into the building and started titrating euthanasia solution (pentobarbital) until the sweetest little bulldog stopped seizing.
It took him almost 12 hours to come back to consciousness, but when he did, he wasn’t the same happy, go lucky sweet puppy. He was angry, charging the cage, growling, snapping. I talked to the owner and said that this can sometimes happen with the post-ictal phase where the brain is recovering and that we would just need to give him more time. He did not recover. Finally, the owner came in to see him to see if the dog would recognize him. He didn’t. Just like with us, he charged the opening of the cage, trying to bite this sweet man who was dealt too many unfair hands. Then the owner made the heart wrenching decision to euthanize. We could not even reach into the cage to get to the injection port in his IV line. We had to just stab the needle through the plastic line and give it that way.
Broken hearts are a commonality in this profession. That owner didn’t deserve that. He was a great owner, always wonderful to us, and was even gracious after the fact, knowing that we had done everything we could.
There have been farm clients that understand that we are hot, tired, likely deprived of calories. I had one client who brought me out a freshly made smoothie in a glass after I had worked on her horse’s lacerations. Numerous clients who have brought out water, soda, coffee, some even offered beer or wine. I had one client invite me in for lunch after working on his horses. I met his family, felt 100% too grungy to be in this nice of a house and around this much money, but it was so nice to feel welcome, especially when being called out for an emergency. Small animal clients who bring us buckets of coffee and doughnuts, buy us pizza, or a sandwich spread, cookies, baked goods for Christmas, even a card sent just saying thank you.
I had one client in Michigan, who, upon hearing that I was leaving, brought in a present of a bottle of wine made from their grapes in their garden (not a vineyard), displayed on a wooden wine bottle holder the owner made from wood from their own trees. The wine bottle was decorated with a picture of the horse that I had helped them with. I still have that bottle on my kitchen counter and am afraid to mess it up by opening it.
There have been so many good clients, it’s hard to tell a full story about each of them. There was the client who was comforting ME while I was euthanizing HER horse. She was very worried about me and having to do the procedure. There was one who gave me a beautiful drawing of their dog I had worked on. There are all of those who have their animal caught and restrained for us when we get there, or let us know ahead of time that their dog or cat has been known to bite – instead of waiting until we have finished listening to their heart and then suddenly have to dodge the teeth coming at our face only to have the owner say “yeah, I thought he might do that” – and ALL the ones that understand that we are slammed with sick patients and don’t grumble at us when we fly into their exam rooms, hair disheveled, 15 minutes late.
Then, there are all the clients who just make our job easier and, dare I say, worth while by the simple act of *drum roll!!!!* following our suggestions. It’s that easy. Sometimes, when I see a client coming in for a recheck, I get excited that they are actually coming back! And then, when I find out they’ve been giving the medications as I said (though I understand some animals are difficult to medicate – but at least they gave it “the old college try”) and using the products I told them would help the most – talk about a heart fluttering moment! I’m not even talking about spending all the money on all the available diagnostics and treatments, just giving a medication every 8 hours like I said, or applying ear medication once EVERY day, or decreasing the number of treats and food given and getting their dog to lose weight.
Some clients have really grown into our lives and become our friends that we think of on a daily basis, even if we moved far far away – Mr. Dean, I still “peench ” them dogs real hard before I give an injection, and you’re right, it seems to help.
Some clients feel the need to connect with us with gifts, which is awesome!
But, as medical professionals, we mostly only get to revisit the cases that are not improving despite the hours of research and brainstorming we have been giving to that animal; who have the call backs from clients complaining or upset; who pour hours of emotional weight onto people; consoling them or talking them through difficult decisions, knowing bad news and preparing to tell the owner who is waiting so hopefully in the room for something “easy” to fix, telling them bad news and just watching as the shock hits them followed by the collapse of their shoulders and welling of tears. ALL DAY. EVERY DAY.
So, being a polite, considerate owner when things are okay for you and your pet, or taking advice on treatment for your animal, or letting us know when something got better (even if we totally expected it to) is all it takes to be a good client in our eyes. Unfortunately, sometimes, we have to put up walls of armor through humor, usually dark humor, so I apologize to those who were offended by my last post, but at the end of the day, we’re all just softies who can’t watch movies where animals get hurt, and who break down crying when we watch a Subaru commercial, but sometimes have to use sarcasm as a way to make it through the day.
What’s coming into the clinic?
I’ve decided to compile a collection of expected diagnosis based solely on judging a book by its cover. Basically, what we, as vets see coming in and go ahead and make large assumptions (normally we assume the worst or most obnoxious). So, here are some presentations and the expected problem.
Basset hound/Cocker spaniels: Ears. Always ears. Even if they’re just coming in for a rabies vaccine only and refuse to pay an exam fee, they will want you to check out their ears…. and a nail trim.
Red/white/blue pit bull: skin – allergies and or mange. Dilute colors = skin issues – also nail trim.
Labrador (any age, any color) not eating/vomiting – foreign body – ate toy, golf balls, raw hides, rocks, dry wall, socks, underwear, etc.
Any female dog over the age of 1 year and not spayed – WILL ALWAYS BE PYOMETRA until proven otherwise – and owner will give you a guilt trip about the expense of the emergency surgery “So you’re just going to let my dog die then?!?” even though you told them from the beginning to get the dog spayed “No, sir, I did not tell you to NOT spay your dog” (avoid a $800-$4000 emergency bill)
Puppy (any breed) under 1 year of age presenting with diarrhea, inappetence, and/or vomiting: Parvo until proven otherwise.
English bulldog: this one is wide open but can include some or all of the following: skin issues – (allergies, hair loss, ear infections, skin infections), respiratory failure due to nonexistent nostrils, too long of a soft palate, heart failure, or obesity. Inability to use hind end due to hemivertebrae, spinal bifida, obesity. Eye issues due to entropion (eyelid curling inward causing eyelashes to scrape the eye), cherry eye (gland of third eyelid popping out), dry eye (eye is dry.. and covered in thick green mucus and crust). Infection of skin around butt hole due to tail corkscrewing around and stabbing them in their own butt, also obesity. C-section: they literally cannot have puppies naturally due to large heads, small pelvis, and, well, often obesity (most also have to be artificially inseminated due to their poor conformation). *** hint – if you want an english bulldog, go ahead and save for $1500-2500 PER year in vet bills.
Old chihuahua/toy poodle – coughing – heart failure – will want nail trim – dog will turn blue trying to bite us
Young chihuahua/toy poodle – broken leg from getting sneezed on
Great Dane – vomiting/retching/bloated – GDV or twisted stomach bloated. Get to the emergency clinic NOW – the stomach is likely dying as you drive.
Cat (outdoor) swollen leg/lump/lethargic – cat bite abscess – sometimes caused by just a friendly cat fight gone wrong, but much more often by a neighborhood Tom – they will try to breed anything with a cat shape – male, female, spayed, neutered, it doesn’t matter and the fights that ensue end up with someone getting a serious bite wound. Cats have a particularly nasty bacteria in their mouth similar to the bacteria in a komodo dragon’s mouth and the bite wound will fester and cause fever, lethargy, limping until it breaks open and drains. Antibiotics are very helpful.
Male cat – vocalizing in the litterbox/posturing to urinate, but nothing or very little coming out – blocked urethra – right now emergency! Don’t wait until morning. The urine backs up to the kidneys and causes serious, sometimes irreparable damage.
Same thing goes for castrated, male goats – looks like stretching, urine dribbling, loud vocalization, sometimes looks like constipated – it’s not constipated – get to vet immediately! Some studies have shown that if you wait to castrate until 6 months of age and avoid feeding grain altogether, you can avoid this fatal issue.
Older Dachshund/chihuahua/other tiny breed dogs: “trench mouth” – the teeth are rotting out of mouth – will also want a nail trim.
Dachshund of any age, unable to walk/stumbling: Intervertebral disk disease – the same gene that makes them short legged and long backed also makes their connective tissue crap and they will often “slip a disk” and without surgery +/- major anti-inflammatories, will be paralyzed – will definitely request a nail trim.
Coughing dog anywhere in the southeast – Heartworm until proven otherwise
Dog constipated: diarrhea – almost every time. Diarrhea causes straining, straining looks like constipation. Most owners, including myself don’t necessarily pay attention to their dog every time they go out, but will notice when the dog is going out all the time and straining.
Dog stares off into space, stumbles, or collapses when not walking, urinated on self – marijuana – just admit it and save us all a big “told you so” and, like, $400 in diagnostics. We won’t call the cops.
Any animal with the history of “I think my neighbor poisoned him” = anything except poisoning by the neighbor – just doesn’t happen.
Lump on boxer : mast cell tumor until proven otherwise
Dog with episodes of choking or “something stuck in throat” – allergies with reverse sneezing or kennel cough
Dog with lameness/stiffness/lethargy in certain areas of the country: lyme disease until proven otherwise
Small breed dog with hind limb lameness: luxating patella (knee cap slipping out of place)
Large breed dog with sudden hind limb lameness: ruptured cruciate ligament (like the ACL tear in athletes)
Goldens: especially the super sweet ones that belong to a special needs child: Cancer. Every F***ing time.
German Shepherd: will rush the door viciously barking as soon as you open the exam room door. Everyone in the clinic will hear and will assume you saw the shepherd. Will not let you touch it the whole time without heavy restraint, muzzle, sedation. Absolutely will request nail trim.
Cat with scabs all over body: fleas/flea allergy (even one bite from a flea can trigger the allergy in some cats)
Obese draft/quarter horse/donkey/pony that is stiff, doesn’t want to walk: founder/laminitis
Anything that is scratching and not on veterinary prescribed flea meds: fleas. Always fleas. Especially if the owner preaches essential oils and says there are absolutely not fleas and uses a natural remedy for flea control – fleas all day.
Cat with significant weight loss: and drinking a lot/not eating: kidney failure. Eating a ton/personality change: hyperthyroidism
Anything named “Lucky” or “Miracle” = doomed.
Anything named “Angel” will bite, unprovoked – owner will definitely want a nail trim.
Again, these are things vets just assume when they see it on the schedule. It doesn’t mean every patient every time and we all certainly go into the exam room with an open mind.
Toddler or Drunk Friend?
Ever notice how much toddlers act just like a drunk friend? Emily and Tony made a video exploring this very idea.
This Little Light Q&A part 2
Emily and Tony are back with another q&a video. Hope you enjoy
White privilege and one eye-opening event
I realize that I may lose some followers with this one, but I felt it needed to be said… for the 40 millionth time. This is not a political post, race relations spans all of humanity whether or not you believe we should tax the rich.
First of all, I feel like people immediately get offended and on the defensive when “white privilege” is mentioned and it really shouldn’t be that way. It’s a term to simply ask you to stop, think with your heart, hear what people are saying, and try to see life through the eyes of a person of color. As white people, even though we don’t realize it most of the time, we are given certain privileges that others don’t see. We expect that if we enter a building, we will be treated courteously and not be followed by a security guard. We expect that if a police officer pulls us over and we are polite and courteous, that everything will go okay except maybe the ticket we take home. We even expect that when we do raise a little hell and talk back to the authority figures, that more than likely, we will not end up dead.
Let’s think of “white privilege” as like what royals or “A list” celebrities experience compared to what the average citizen might. A royal walks up to pretty much anywhere they want and security guards simply step aside and question nothing. However, at that same location, an average citizen would be IDed and have their bag inspected before entering.
I thought that I understood my privilege before and I was ashamed of it. But being ashamed does nothing, and in the wrong mindset, causes bitterness and resentment. I thought I understood until one day, I was scrolling through Facebook after a few recent stories about innocent black men being killed for things as innocent as simply going for a jog and saw a friend’s post. Let me tell you about Cherice, a black veterinarian. I barely know her. I joined a Facebook group that is for veterinarians who are mothers and is a place where we can talk about cases, ask for parenting advice, or just vent about rough times in our lives. A couple of years ago, I posted about the very hard time I was having working at the clinic I was at and expressed my feelings of frustration, severe depression, and of being trapped. She was one of the first members to privately message me and give me support and pour out her life story to let me know that I was not alone.
Later, we became Facebook friends and, eventually met at a Veterinary conference where we got to have a brief chat between lectures and got to hug each other – finally through all the help she’d extended to me. Cherice had NO IDEA who I was when she reached out to me, but gave me her heart and soul. So, when all this was coming out about Ahmaud Arbery, I saw a post from her on Facebook that made my heart sink and tears immediately well up in my eyes. She posted an adorable picture of her two little boys taking a bath, and wrote:
“At this point I have no idea how to keep my own sons alive. I imagine I’m supposed to feel “lucky” that they don’t look “that” brown. Maybe they will get a pass and someone won’t kill them. I don’t even know how to feel about even typing that”
Read it again.
I thought I understood what it meant that I have unwritten privileges that people of color (POC) do not. I thought I got it that when I send someone my resume or have an interview on the phone, I am lucky enough to not have to worry about if my name sounded white or if my accent sounded white enough. I thought I understood that my father was able to go from absolute dirt poor to second in command at the Robins Air Force base because of the opportunities and unspoken advantages available to him from his time of birth that allowed him to succeed and get into Georgia Tech (one of the first white colleges in the south to allow black people and not even until 1968 – that’s ONE generation, not 100s of years ago), and get the promotions he got. I thought I had pretty well educated myself by watching documentaries and shows on Netflix such as “Dear White People” – where the main character looks almost exactly like my niece (white/black blend).
Then, I read Cherice’s post, guys, and my guts. Hit. The. Floor. I have suffered from post partum anxiety where you are constantly in fear your child will be harmed or die to the point that I sought help. I cannot watch shows where a child or baby is in danger, even though I know it’s fiction. But, to read her post and think that of all the crazy scenarios I have pulled through my head, I have never thought what would happen when my babies grow up and someone sees them and immediately judges them as a criminal just by the way they look. I will likely never have to, but what if I did? What kind of pain it must be for POC to create the most beautiful sweet babies, the centers, the loves of their lives, and know that others will likely look at them like they are less than. Not only that, but have to worry that because of the way they look, people may even want to harm or kill them.
This is white privilege. No one is asking white people to feel ashamed. We cannot help that we were born into privilege just as they cannot help they were born not white. What we can do, though is talk about it. Next time you are driving down the road or watching TV, try to note the ratio of white to black or POC you see when it comes to movies, shows, even simple billboards. Black people and POC have a stigma and none of it is being helped by the majority of the everyday people we see in the media being white. If we could surround ourselves by a normalcy of seeing POC doing everyday things that we can all relate to, maybe the idea of seeing a POC would not be so shocking.
When I moved to mid Michigan from the south, I had been there about 2-3 WEEKS before I saw a black person. I was so excited, I called Tony who was still trying to get all our stuff together in South Carolina. Despite the fact that I saw like one POC in the first 2-3 weeks I was there, and not many in between that time and when I left 5 years later, some people there were still racist. I wondered “how can you be racist when you don’t even see black people?” The only thing I can reason (because everything needs reason) is that these people only knew black people in the media. And what does mainstream media normally show black people as? That’s right. Nothing. There’s not even a normalcy for black people in the movies. It’s definitely getting better, but not much. So, for these people living in mid Michigan in their mostly white world, black people and POC are basically foreign to them, and anything foreign must not be trusted.
So, when you consider your white privilege, don’t get mad. Don’t be offended. Don’t immediately start swinging. Try to see the world through the eyes of the unpopular and try to think of anything you can do to help. Helping can be anything from purposefully hiring a POC (qualified, obviously – and so many are) to just looking deep inside yourself to make a change, then spreading that change to anyone who will listen. It’s 2020 and there’s still leaps and bounds of progress we can make.
I’m sorry if this post has somehow offended you. I mean literally zero ill will. I just want to help bridge people together. Sometimes it’s hard to think of yourself as needing to grow, I face it everyday in my own work as a vet. I’m never the best I can be, I can always be better. So can you. <3
Thanks to my friend, Cherice for approving my use of her quote. I will keep you in my prayers and hope the world changes sooner rather than later.
Love, Emily
Vlog: The Down Low on Diarrhea
Diarrhea is one the most common issues we see at the vet clinic, and it is caused by a huge host of problems. Luckily Emily and Tony are here to break some of them down.
We hope you enjoyed the video, and, as always, thank you for watching!!