Saving Lives
This will probably be my last post before I leave for vacation tomorrow night. Details, a con report, and hopefully some knitting progress when I get back.
Please bear with me while I digress from the fibery and crafty stuff for a moment.
In my non-knitting professional life, I am a veterinarian. Actually I am one all the time, but you know what I mean. Much of the time, my career is not, I think, what most people outside my world expect. There is a lot of routine, repetitive stuff. I give vaccinations; I treat skin allergies; I treat the vomiting and/or diarrhea that comes from Fluffy eating something she shouldn't have, often willingly provided by Mom or Dad.
I'm not saying I don't like my job, or don't find it satisfying. But sometimes it is just a job. And sometimes it's a very difficult job. And sometimes it's a very messy job. And sometimes it's a very demanding and busy job that makes planning a life outside of work difficult. But mostly, it tends to take on aspects of the mundane and routine for me. It's like any other job in many respcets, I suspect.
But on occasions, I am reminded of why I decided I-won't-tell-how-many years ago why I wanted to do this in the first place. When I see the look of joy that accompanies the first visit of a new family member. When I guide a family through the process of saying goodbye to a beloved dear one and can give a "good death" to a wee one who is suffering, as sad as those moments are as well. When I get to give the "things are going to be all right after all" news. When I feel like I have made a difference in someone's life and made things better, or just a little easier with a difficult decision.
Today was one of those occasions. Today I got to see the sheer look of joy on the face of an older gentleman as he took home his beloved, now recovering beloved companion, whom he thought he was saying a final goodbye to when he left her (in tears, from this very proud man) a couple short days ago. Who would not have survived if not for my, at the risk of sounding immodest, skillful surgical intervention and careful follow up care that ate up most of my Saturday afternoon and evening "off time."
It's all worth it if, every once and a while, I can make this kind of difference in someone's life.