2001-06-26
12:05 a.m.

I was at the vets today, and I was watching Dr. C do surgery, and I was capitivated by her hands. I watched as they moved in an intracate dance, fixing a dogs tattered body. Every movement so smooth, so slight. Her hands would weave in and out, reminding me almost of an ocean tide, as she closed up an open wound. I'm not sure what it was about those hands, but I couldn't pull my eyes away. A flick of the wrist, and a piece of dead skin was removed, a movement of her fingers, and blood flow ceased. Such power, such grace. I couldn't stop looking. I guess it just amazed me how hands so small, so fragile looking can work such miracles.

I find that I have become more confident at the vet office, not so afraid to make a mistake. I'm still extremely cautious, but now I feel like more of a help than a hendrince. I don't look around like an idiot when asked for a material in surgery. I stood in on five surgeries today, even being in on three of them by myself. It was just a nice ego boost to know that they trust me to be able to help out if the doctor gets in to trouble, but with a surgen like Dr. C, it isn't likely to happen.

I actually have a really funny story to tell today. I was holding a dog who had a gunshot wound that went through the elbow of his left leg, and on through the chest. It was a pretty bad wound. Anyway, I was holding him, as Dr. C was sitting on the floor writing out a chart. Well, this dog, Hobo, begins sniffing around Dr. C, which I paid no attention to, considering dogs do sniff from time to time. Well, the next thing I knew, up goes Hobo's leg, and I watch the stream of yellow go all over Dr. C's scrubs. She jumps up as I pull Hobo back. She looks at the dog, a huge wet spot on her scrub top, and I stand there trying for the life of me not to laugh. I finally manage to say that I'm taking Hobo out for a walk. As soon as I get out the door, I hear the people in the back bust out laughing, which sends me into a fit of giggles. One of the other volunteer's, James, follows me out. We look at each other, and then down to the dog, which sends us into another fit of laughter. When I come back in, Dr. C has change, and she gives a disparaging look at the dog, which only makes me begin to laugh again. Dr. C gives me a look, and a muttered 'Glad I bring so much humor into your life.' All of the staff was teasing her for the rest of the day, hehe.

Thank you guys for all the congrats on my 200th entry. I was surprised when I happened to check my profile and saw that. I couldn't believe I had really written here that long. It seems like just yesterday I wrote the first entry, wondering if I would ever have anyone read this little diary. I don't think I will ever truely stop being amazed that the "following" I have. I got an E-mail, someone telling me that the read my diary because it made them feel good about themselves. It made them see that there were other people who had the same feelings and emotions that they had. I'm glad that I could bring that to someone.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to fly. To have wings, open, catching the wind beneath them. To go into a sudden dive, but pull up seconds before hitting the ground. Do birds realize what a gift they have? That's always the way it is though, isn't it? Fish wish to walk, people want to fly, and birds want to swim. Why do we always want what we can't have? Is it our way of self punishment..or, perhaps it is those wants that keep us alive, keep us dreaming. Maybe it is really those things that keep us anticipating what tomorrow will bring.

"These hands are small I know
but they're not yours
They are my own
and they're not yours
they are my own
and I am never broken"
Jewel "Hands"

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