April 20, 2003
2:17 p.m.

So, my truck went back into the shop for a forth time, for the same problem it's been having,about a week ago. It's not that the shop I have been going to isn't doing a good job, they just have no idea what's wrong with my truck. They basically told me that I needed to take it to a dealership. Cha-ching. I was busy trying to figure out where I was supposed to get the money to pay for the million dollar dealership bill. Regardless, I had to get my truck fixed, because it died in the middle of an intersection, which wasn't too pleasent. I took it to the dealership, and they quoted my $170 just to do diagnostic tests. I reluctantly agreed, and began to plan out which jobs to choose as a sixth and seventh job to pay for everything. Three days later, they called and the head mechanic guy told me, that to be honest, he wasn't really sure exactly what was wrong with my truck. He had a strong guess, and that's what he wanted to try. The part and labor would be a little over two hundred dollars, not including the one seventy he quoted to diagnostics. It seemed like a lot of money to be shelling out for a guess. I went ahead with it though. When I got to the shop to pay for it, the mechanic told me that my truck had become sort of a project there. He said if the part they put in didn't work, to bring it back, and he would refund me the money. He said if they still couldn't fix it, that I would need to ship it off to another state....Meanwhile, I am starting at my truck. How do I end up with the "special" truck that no one can figure out? Then, he gives me the bill. I was expecting about four hundred dollars, it was only two. He had discounted it a lot because my truck was his little project. No complaints from me.

Work has been work. Dr. Fuller ended up having another one of his late night surgeries. It's been a while since he did that, I had almost fogotten what a pain they were. This one involved a goat with a broken leg, which he wanted to put an external fixiter on. It took us an hour to get a trach tube down him, get him on the table, Fuller makes his first incision, and I happen to look down, and see that the tube had come untied, and was half way out. It was too late to try and put another on, so I just put a mask on him.

The main reason that you want a tube in the animal, is, that if they stop breathing, you can breath for them easily. Plus, it makes it easier to regulate their anesthesia. Now, goats are known to react badly to anesthesia, so I was already nervous about doing it, and with only a mask, I was a bit unnerved. Plus, the mask didn't fit perfectly over the goats face, so anesthesia was leaking out around the sides, giving me a bit of a headache. The surgery took almost four hours, but, in the end, the goat did okay through anesthesia. I didn't get home until after ten thirty though. Bleh.

Dr. C is coming back full time starting on Monday, although her jaw has rubberbands holding it together. She was a bit upset yesterday, after we had to put a horse to sleep. The horse had been having trouble breathing for over a month, and the culprit seemed to be an infected gutteral pouch. I don't really know it's use, but it's supposed to drain out the nose. Anyway, Friday, Dr. C had tried to cut it open, to relieve preassure, but the horses ended up bleeding very badly. It took about half an hour to get the bleeding under control. Well, yesterday, we tried the same thing with the same results, except, this time, we couldn't get the bleeding to stop. Dr. C held her finger on the wound for fifteen minutes, and it was still bleeding just as badly. I was dumbfounded at the amount of blood spilling to the floor, and how powerless we were to stop it. At first, we joked about transfusions, but, then, as the bleeding continued, we realized how serious it was becoming. Finally, we called the owner and asked for permission to euthanize. It was either that, or the horse was going to slowly bleed to death. After we put the horse to sleep, Dr. C opened his neck a bit more to try and see what it was that kept bleeding. She couldn't find it. She then opened the gutteral pouch, and ended up pulling out at least half a liter of pus. With how much was pouring out of his neck, I am surprised the horse could breath at all. Dr. C was angry that she couldn't save him, she blamed herself for not being able to get into the gutteral pouch. As I looked at the pus pooling on the ground, I just can't imagine us being able to save the horse, there's just no way we could have gotten all of it out. And then, who's to say it wouldn't fill back up. It's just hard to lose an animal when you feel like there might have been some way to save it.

I took Elisa on her first trail ride, expecting her to be horrible. She proved me wrong, she was amazing. We had to go across a small stream, through a neighborhood, across a street, everything, and she did wonderfully. I think she's finally growing up a bit, and getting the hang of the whole riding thing. Of course, now that I say that, she's going to toss me off next time I go riding. :)

Anyway, it's good to be back...again.. :)

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