MD, Schmd, The Next Time I'm Sick I'm Going to the Vet

In my household I’ve always believed that the animals have it better than the people.  But now I have absolute proof.

It started, as these things tend to do, with a visit to mom on the East Coast.  Which involved an airplane. Actually two—one to New York and one returning. Oh, the joys of flying commercial coach!

Naturally, I got sick.  Which then turned into a sinus infection. As is typical, I didn’t believe I had anything more than a sniffle.  The first day it was almost kind of fun—I slept most of the time, and the dogs sat around on my bed snoring. But by the second day they – and I -were bored with it. They wanted walks, potty breaks and two catered meals.

I still didn’t think I was ill; my belief in denial is strong.  But eventually it got past the point where I could plausibly blame it on drinking or the time change.

I started considering going to a doctor. The problem is that I don’t actually have one.  My regular MD retired a few years ago without giving any referrals. Which is kind of bitchy of her if you ask me.

As one does, I asked my friends if they had a doctor they liked.  I came up with a surprisingly short list. When I called those MDs, none were accepting any new patients. Not even if I asked nicely.

I finally found a doctor who would see me—in three weeks. By which time I would have been feeling badly for so long that I’d be contemplating suicide. ‘Cause if you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of a big baby about being sick.

Eventually I gave in and went to a walk-in clinic near my house. It was lovely. In 20 minutes I saw a doctor and walked out with a prescription for meds. I was better in a few days.  Better living through chemistry, folks!

My cat became really sick about that time as well. It was a whole different experience.  I called my vet and made an appointment to bring her in that very afternoon. Of course she needed a specialist. I got her an immediate referral and the specialist saw her two days later. Tilly was pissed about having her stomach shaved for the ultrasound, but within days she was as healthy as ever.  But the truly amazing thing is that both vets called me two times to check on her. Two times!  I’ve had surgery and the doctors never called to find out if I was still alive!

An even bigger contrast for me is with equine doctors.  One of the horses became ill too.  (These things seem to happen in threes.) Naturally it was Lucy, the pregnant mare. It appeared to be colic, which is similar to that illness in people, except that in horses it can often be fatal. Lucy has already had colic surgery once, so I’m a little touchy about her health

. Okay, truth time, I am obsessed with her right now; I was frantic.

So I called my regular vet. (Again notice the difference. I don’t have a doctor but I have three equine vets on speed dial: My regular vet, a surgeon and Lucy’s OB-GYN.)  Neil was very nice and calm. And he arrived on my doorstep within the hour. Notice: he came to me.  When she wasn’t better in a day, he arranged for me to take her to a clinic. I showed up with Lucy literally in tow about two hours later than expected. Still, practically the entire hospital staff was waiting to greet us, and within minutes she was being examined. 

Shortly thereafter she was on an IV.  I’d still be filling out liability forms and surveys if it were a human hospital. Lucy was ready to go home three days later.

A few years ago one of my old horses tried to rip his lower eyelid off while scratching an itch. It wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done. It looked ghastly. But it didn’t seem to bother him as much as it freaked me out..

Once again an emergency call was made to Neil.  (The good doctor takes awesome vacations, most of which I believe I’ve financed. But he’s generous about sharing the photos with me. So I can live at least vicariously.) Within the hour my Neil came out and stitched up the eye. It was perfect, and there isn’t even a scar.  

So this is the deal.  The next time I get sick, I’m going to call the vet.