Saturday, August 27, 2016
Friday, August 26, 2016
Veterinarians Are Greedy Bastards
I'm LIVID. My Godchild is a vet, working at a practice too far away for me to get to or I would pack up my kitty and drive that far. Coco has been with me since she was 6 weeks old, she's 8. She's always been a thin cat, Her brother is heavier. But not Coco,who, in the last week has been attacked by fleas. She's anemic. Severely. So we packed her up and hauled her to the emergency vet. 1800.00 to do a blood transfusion and run some fluids into her. I don't have 1800.00. Thanks to other life crap I have 42.00 to get through to the first of the month.So we brought her home, with some immediate flea killer in her and bundled in warm towels. I sat with her the rest of the night, begging her to live.
This morning she went to our regular vet. The one we have had a standing relationship with for almost two years. After explaining that there had been extenuating circumstances the month before that left us at the bottom of the money barrel this month, they refused to work with us. Nope, will not take a post dated check, nope will not take the credit card number and run it on the first. Nope, will do a damn thing that actually helps the situation. Not until my husband said "So you want to call my wife and explain why we will have to put down the cat because the dollar means more than the animal?" She acted like she had been slapped in the face. "Well that's not it at all, none of this is cheap" When he responded with "Our godchild is a vet, she said even with you quoting 600.00...you are still 200.00 over the actual cost. And there's only 3 cat blood types- A, B & AB, the latter is extremely rare, Bs tend to be more west coast cats and no, no one really knows why, and most east coast cats are As. She came out of Michigan so, probably an A.
THEN. RIGHT THEN is when she decided to do something helpful. NOT until it was waved in her face that we had inside knowledge of the costs did she even mention, "well we can do this, lets get her some flea prevention, her body temp is up but still low, we'll do some sub cue fluids and I'll send you home with needles, the fluid and a supplement," They ran fluids then and she immediately responded.
So I asked my god child why they had told me it would dilute her blood too much to give her fluids- "because they only wanted to do IV which they can then charge more for."
They have a frigging oath for god's sake.
This morning she went to our regular vet. The one we have had a standing relationship with for almost two years. After explaining that there had been extenuating circumstances the month before that left us at the bottom of the money barrel this month, they refused to work with us. Nope, will not take a post dated check, nope will not take the credit card number and run it on the first. Nope, will do a damn thing that actually helps the situation. Not until my husband said "So you want to call my wife and explain why we will have to put down the cat because the dollar means more than the animal?" She acted like she had been slapped in the face. "Well that's not it at all, none of this is cheap" When he responded with "Our godchild is a vet, she said even with you quoting 600.00...you are still 200.00 over the actual cost. And there's only 3 cat blood types- A, B & AB, the latter is extremely rare, Bs tend to be more west coast cats and no, no one really knows why, and most east coast cats are As. She came out of Michigan so, probably an A.
THEN. RIGHT THEN is when she decided to do something helpful. NOT until it was waved in her face that we had inside knowledge of the costs did she even mention, "well we can do this, lets get her some flea prevention, her body temp is up but still low, we'll do some sub cue fluids and I'll send you home with needles, the fluid and a supplement," They ran fluids then and she immediately responded.
So I asked my god child why they had told me it would dilute her blood too much to give her fluids- "because they only wanted to do IV which they can then charge more for."
They have a frigging oath for god's sake.
Being admitted to the profession of veterinary medicine, I solemnly swear to use my scientific knowledge and skills for the benefit of society through the protection of animal health and welfare, the prevention and relief of animal suffering, the conservation of animal resources, the promotion of public health, and the advancement of medical knowledge.
I will practice my profession conscientiously, with dignity, and in keeping with the principles of veterinary medical ethics.
I accept as a lifelong obligation the continual improvement of my professional knowledge and competence.
I have gone to the source and asked why they even bother with an oath. I mean really. My son knew he was going to lose his horse to colic, after meds and endless hours of walking her through snowy mud, so we called Dr. Knight and his wonderful comment was "well if she's going to die-she's going to die" Really ass wipe? And then he was offended when I banned him from ever coming back on my property under threat of leaving in a body bag. He was the on-call for 9...N-I-N-E vets that weekend and this is what we got?? Really? Then he said "well my wife is pregnant" No sympathy bud- I had 6 kids in the military with a deployed husband. Maybe, if you wanted to be glued to her side & by the way- she is a vet too- maybe you should not have agreed to being the weekend emergency guy...just saying.
https://www.avma.org/About/WhoWeAre/Pages/contact-confirm.aspx is where I went for answers- not getting any. Just telling me what I already know- I can lodge a complaint which goes to a group of fellow vets and not a whole hell of a lot really happens
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Tribute to a friend or two
Over the years I
have had several dogs that taught me something that I needed to know at that
moment. Barney was named for Barney Fife & at 240 lbs was afraid of
everything when he first saw it. I found him in a burlap bag in a watery ditch
and I learned that even a kid can make a difference. I put that bag in the
basket of my bike and rode down the side of 436 like Elmira Gultch all the way
to the vets office- 11 puppies and 8 were viable. They turned out to be English
Mastiffs…big babies. He was quite impressed. (Less so when I brought home a
horse from the pound & proved him wrong when he said it was a goner.) From Rana the rotti I learned to not buy into
the hype on anything. She was a goof ball that loved to grab mudbugs as they
crawled out and eat them…totally crazy. If there was one word for her it would
be “Play”. Sasha is “old” by Saint
Bernard standards…she’s teaching me age is a number, she’s still all puppy-ish
and so not ready to play by the rules.
Today marks a year since I had to say goodbye to my furry friend who taught me the most. Daisy owned us for a decade. I teased Ed that she liked him better, but, she was my salvation. We found her running the streets with her mama and a stray terrier. Not long after we found mama dog on the road- she lost to a logging truck. I pulled in the driveway and told Ed to snag her, and what had happened. That afternoon we bought her a crate and a collar and got bowls, a ball, food and made a vets appt. for her. I expected the worst-instead we found out she was about 5 weeks old and perfectly healthy. She knew sit, shake, and went to the door to go out. She also learned ‘high 5’ real fast. She taught me to laugh at the silly things when I was so depressed and missing my family & home-I didn’t want to deal with anyone. Really, when there’s a puppy digging in a dirt pile and all you can see is dirt flying and a waggedy tail going like a furry metronome until she’d come up all sandy nosed and bouncy…you had to laugh.
Today marks a year since I had to say goodbye to my furry friend who taught me the most. Daisy owned us for a decade. I teased Ed that she liked him better, but, she was my salvation. We found her running the streets with her mama and a stray terrier. Not long after we found mama dog on the road- she lost to a logging truck. I pulled in the driveway and told Ed to snag her, and what had happened. That afternoon we bought her a crate and a collar and got bowls, a ball, food and made a vets appt. for her. I expected the worst-instead we found out she was about 5 weeks old and perfectly healthy. She knew sit, shake, and went to the door to go out. She also learned ‘high 5’ real fast. She taught me to laugh at the silly things when I was so depressed and missing my family & home-I didn’t want to deal with anyone. Really, when there’s a puppy digging in a dirt pile and all you can see is dirt flying and a waggedy tail going like a furry metronome until she’d come up all sandy nosed and bouncy…you had to laugh.
Daisy taught me
that I really didn’t need the crust on the bread- even though I liked it, or
pizza crust, or the last bite of anything. She taught me that bananas were
really yellow puppy treats and not something to make bread with or for Ed to
snack on. She loved the puppy ice cream we made and would sit, one paw on
whoever held the cup and lick it with her eyes closed- like she was savoring
every bit of it. Daisy loved to go for a ride and Ed’s gator became the
Daisymobile. She loved to dig and the
wild blueberries of Michigan… sadly she never got to have any of ours here. Without
having any training, she seemed to know when the nightmares had returned and
would bark from her kennel, next to Sasha…which normally would have set her
off- but never did. Just hearing her would bring me out of it. I lost track of
the number of nights she sat at my feet as I plugged away on my Master’s
project after everyone else had gone to bed. She also listened to more papers
and stories than anyone else had. The day we lost my brother I was home alone
when I found out- she climbed in my lap and whined as I sobbed into her fur.
She had the softest ears- one stuck out like Yoda.
Daisy wasn’t a barker. If she did, you needed to go check it out—then, and she rarely took a dislike to someone, but if she growled…I got rid of them fast. I learned to trust her and always felt safe knowing she was there. She was oblivious to the kitties when they moved in…and wasn’t so sure about Squirty when he joined the family. They did become friends and he searched for her for days after she left us. I had her ashes on the mantle until I decorated for Christmas, I moved her box to my favorite book case, Squirt sat and sniffed at the box and looked back at me and whined. Tell me again how they “are only animals.”
Daisy wasn’t a barker. If she did, you needed to go check it out—then, and she rarely took a dislike to someone, but if she growled…I got rid of them fast. I learned to trust her and always felt safe knowing she was there. She was oblivious to the kitties when they moved in…and wasn’t so sure about Squirty when he joined the family. They did become friends and he searched for her for days after she left us. I had her ashes on the mantle until I decorated for Christmas, I moved her box to my favorite book case, Squirt sat and sniffed at the box and looked back at me and whined. Tell me again how they “are only animals.”
She was amazing and because she was, I
knew I needed to find a new fur friend after she was gone. Because she put so
much faith in us, I knew it was right. And it was our turn to save a pup from a
who knows what. Chance has been with us 10 months. He was sitting in a cage at
the shelter and had this look like he needed a friend. I’m learning to trust
him…and nothing against him, but if I could have Daisy back-I’d do it in a half
a heartbeat. I think in some ways he knows he has big paws to fill. How he came
to be there- we have no idea. He has so many fears, I can only imagine what he
went through. At the end of November he figured out what play really is and
engages as often as he can. He makes me laugh daily and he’s turning into a
good alarm system and I’m seeing how he picks up on the tiny things. I think
him and Daisy would be great friends & that’s how it’s supposed to be…they
taught me that.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Words.
I wrote a book set in the deep south in the 50s & 60s. Language was different than it is today. Words that were used to describe people or ethnic groups were different and acceptable then. They may not have been liked or appreciated, but they were used. They have a place in history and therefore in the story. I also have a unique perspective on this because of my heritage. My mother was Seneca, my dad was Scot/Irish/Blackfoot, I was raised with a good bit of the old ways. There has been great debate over the use of "Indian" versus "Native American", if you look at it from a geographical stand point. Indian should refer to someone from India, and Native American is anyone born in America. But that isn't the way it works. I prefer American Indian. It covers the background and pinpoints where I'm from. A college in Charleston did a study at a Pow-wow to see what term was the preferred. American Indian was preferred by 190 of the 200 indigenous people there. 1 old man said he didn't care what they called him, as long as they remembered to call him for supper.
The other big hoopla has been over the use of "discriminatory terms"...like Red Skin. Braves. Indians...you get the drift. I do not see the problem with Braves. It's the same as warriors-Indians and Red Skins...they are what you allow them to be. Someone could decide that "water" is derogatory to those of the liquid state--you'd think their bag of marbles had split wide open. It has the same connotation for me with the others. Get real. The Seminoles of Florida State have long used Osceola as their mascot. Do the research and you'll know why...he was cunning, brave, a leader, etc. That is just what a good coach hopes his team shows on the field. The Florida Seminole Tribes work with the University to be sure the portrayal is done in a tasteful manner and back the use. Imagine that. They came, sat, talked, listened, debated in an adult manner and came to an agreement.
Look at the terms used to describe women over time. There's a grunch load that would get someone slapped sideways if they used them to the right female. The current is "bitch" or "bitches"...you know, like the female dog. Now let reality seep in...have you used that term to refer to your friends? I'm betting at some point in time- its happened. How big of a fit did you pitch? None? Really....but you want to throw a hissy fit over a nationality?
The world has gone a bit too politically correct. I pointed out my son, someone else heard a piece of the conversation and berated me for calling him "skinny." He's 6 ft 1 and some, and weighs in between 145 and 165...he's skinny. And he has the super metabolism...brat. Repeated what I told the old bat would just deprive you of a chance to use your imaginations.
Here's a unique concept, instead of demanding a nationality all be called by the same grand (or not) title, try asking. Two people may have different answers. Get over it. That's why we're different.
The other big hoopla has been over the use of "discriminatory terms"...like Red Skin. Braves. Indians...you get the drift. I do not see the problem with Braves. It's the same as warriors-Indians and Red Skins...they are what you allow them to be. Someone could decide that "water" is derogatory to those of the liquid state--you'd think their bag of marbles had split wide open. It has the same connotation for me with the others. Get real. The Seminoles of Florida State have long used Osceola as their mascot. Do the research and you'll know why...he was cunning, brave, a leader, etc. That is just what a good coach hopes his team shows on the field. The Florida Seminole Tribes work with the University to be sure the portrayal is done in a tasteful manner and back the use. Imagine that. They came, sat, talked, listened, debated in an adult manner and came to an agreement.
Look at the terms used to describe women over time. There's a grunch load that would get someone slapped sideways if they used them to the right female. The current is "bitch" or "bitches"...you know, like the female dog. Now let reality seep in...have you used that term to refer to your friends? I'm betting at some point in time- its happened. How big of a fit did you pitch? None? Really....but you want to throw a hissy fit over a nationality?
The world has gone a bit too politically correct. I pointed out my son, someone else heard a piece of the conversation and berated me for calling him "skinny." He's 6 ft 1 and some, and weighs in between 145 and 165...he's skinny. And he has the super metabolism...brat. Repeated what I told the old bat would just deprive you of a chance to use your imaginations.
Here's a unique concept, instead of demanding a nationality all be called by the same grand (or not) title, try asking. Two people may have different answers. Get over it. That's why we're different.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Give away ends at Midnight!
http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/62201-run-in-with-the-devil
This is book 2 of the trilogy and specially crafted book mark for the book. The Wordbranch fall catalog is online, there is a discount if you purchase the set so check that out and soon they will have an anthology of sci-fi stories coming out- more info is on the site.
This is book 2 of the trilogy and specially crafted book mark for the book. The Wordbranch fall catalog is online, there is a discount if you purchase the set so check that out and soon they will have an anthology of sci-fi stories coming out- more info is on the site.
Monday, August 26, 2013
GIVE AWAY!!!!
http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/62201-run-in-with-the-devil
Book 2 of the trilogy is on the goodreads.com give aways
Book 2 of the trilogy is on the goodreads.com give aways
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Thunder Con
What a blast this was! The number of people in full costumes was staggering, and it was loaded with munchkin sized folks sporting their own mini-sized costumes. Had a great time talking to people and seeing old friends and posting pix that made my granddaughter yell "Oh Cool"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
