Another ABC Country Vet Story

[Boronia]

I like these stories so have posted another for your enjoyment

 

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-06-08/births-deaths-and-the-human-factor-in-vet-practice/8596328

Births, deaths and the human factor of country vet practice

ABC South East SA

By Kate Hill

Posted yesterday at 11:29am

 

Photo: "It's time." Alex Cape shares a last few minutes with her cat Mischa. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

Related Story: A day in the life of a country vet

Related Story: Why losing a dog can be harder than losing a relative or friend

Map: Mount Gambier 5290

On the long line of chairs in the waiting room of the Mount Gambier vet clinic, Alex Cape sits alone with a cat carrier carefully placed besides her.

The high school teacher is upset.

At 14 years old, Ms Cape's much-loved cat Mischa's health is failing and today, she knows he may not be returning home with her.

Vet Ms Skirving gently lifts the cat out of the carrier and examines him, noting signs of dehydration, anaemia and further weight loss in the week since she has last seen him.

"You just look tired, don't you mate," Ms Skirving said.

 

Photo: Alex Cape with vet Rebel Skirving in the clinic waiting room. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

His tail switches weakly under her touch, another sign the elderly cat is fading fast. Normally, the vet has to restrain him from leaping off the table.

"This is the right time, isn't it?" Ms Cape asks.

"I do think it is." Ms Skirving gently explains that any treatment from now on will be a band-aid solution and only buying time, not quality time.

"As tough as it is, I think it's a good time to say goodbye."

Euthanasia is a subject many people find confronting, but the death of animals is a routine part of day-to-day life as a vet.

Ms Skirving gives Alex the option of being with him during the injection and leaves the owner to her farewell.

Mischa was rescued from the Port Lonsdale RSPCA as a kitten and was with Alex through a number of important life moments, when she moved out of home, started studying teaching. He has been a constant in her life.

"He was family," she said, simply.

 

Photo: The animal euthanasia drug. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

Today is not an easy one for the vet, who has treated Mischa for over six years and has seen firsthand the time and devotion Alex has committed to her feline life companion.

"It does get harder as you know people and their animals," she said. "It's the people side of it that upsets me more than anything.

"As a young vet, euthanasia is a bit confronting. I always thought I'd get better and more desensitised as I got older but I think it is quite the reverse. It gets more challenging.

After a decade at the Mount Gambier clinic, the same animals Ms Skirving first treated as bright-eyed puppies and kittens all those years ago are aging, succumbing to diseases and when their time comes, dying.

"You see them when they first come in for their vaccinations right through to old age. It's the big picture."

Before the euthanasia injection, owners have to sign a form showing they understand the procedure is non-reversible, resulting in the animal's death.

The mundane words 'put to sleep' may be nicer, but can be confusing for children, who can be upset when the animal does not wake up.

 

Photo: Last minutes: Mischa is given the euthanasia injection. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

"I don't sugar coat things," Ms Skirving said. "I avoid certain words like 'put to sleep'.

"I say 'we're going to give him some medicine to stop his heart and he will die'," she said.

Farewell

The waiting room is quiet and the only sound is Ms Skirving's low voice as she gently explains what she is doing and how long it will take Mischa to die.

As she slips the needle full of green liquid in the IV catheter, it takes just seconds before Mischa's eyes glaze and his heart beat stills.

Weeping, Ms Cape is given a few minutes alone with her cat.

 

Photo: Mischa's body is taken away for cremation. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

As his body is wrapped in a calico bag ready for cremation, Ms Cape goes back to school and teaches a year 9 class, then goes through a full night of parent teacher interviews.

Anything, she explains, is better than going back to a home where reminders of Mischa are everywhere.

Two weeks later, as she collects Mischa's ashes, she said the emotion she felt about the loss of her cat knocked her for six.

"I didn't think it would be like grieving for a person," she said.

 

Photo: Alex leaves the vet clinic without her beloved pet. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

The human factor

"I think a lot of people come into the veterinary profession with a romanticised idea that you spend all day working with animals, but you deal with the people first," Ms Skirving said, President of the Rural Vets in SA.

"Eighty per cent of what I do each day is working with and managing people."

To the many students that pass through their clinic, Ms Skirving instils in them that they also have to be good at listening, counselling and managing the human side of veterinary medicine.

Ms Skirving said vets saw all ends of the spectrum, from practical farmers driven by economics to highly emotional companion animal owners and everyone's relationship with their animal was different.

Every day in the veterinary industry is different and some are more challenging than others.

"You have good days and bad days and the bad ones can be really tough and they can be emotionally and physically challenging," Ms Skirving said.

The mental health of staff in the veterinary industry is a topical and timely issue, particularly as a number of studies have shown the suicide rates in vets is four times higher than the general population.

Although Ms Skirving loves her job, she makes sure herself and her team of staff get ample downtime, away from the clinic.

 

 

Photo: "One day, I'll get that Mustang." Vet Rebel Skirving with her V8 vet-mobile. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

After a rough day at work, you will not find this vet bombed out on the couch immersed in television. Ms Skirving is far more likely to be out driving her beloved V8.

"Most of my relaxation techniques involve fossil fuels," she laughs.

"I love my cars and I love my power tools."

A Friday calving

Then there are the good days, where you get an unexpected win.

The next call-out for Ms Skirving is to a farm at Weepar just outside of town, to see a cow who is struggling to calve.

Recalling all the times she has had to pull dead calves from cows, the vet is not optimistic about the calf's chances.

 

 

Photo: Feel here: Vet Rebel Skirving shows the farmer the cow has a broken pelvis. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

"The best outcome is a live calf with no caesarean-section," she said.

"Cows don't do as well with a caesarean-section as with a natural birth," she explains, pulling on waterproof clothing and hefting a 5-kilo tub of lubricant from the car.

As farmer Wally and his son Peter watch, Ms Skirving tries in vain to deliver the calf naturally, giving the tired cow an epidural and using a purpose-built pulley system.

At one stage, she puts her full weight on the ropes connected to the calf's legs, trying to get the leverage needed.

But the cow's cervix is not dilated enough, risking tearing her cervix and to make matters worse, Ms Skirving says she has a broken pelvis.

This calf won't be coming out the usual way. "Your call" she says to the farmer and he nods.

 

 

Photo: A bucket scrub before the caesarean section begins. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

For the casual observer, a caesarean on a standing animal is a fairly eye-opening procedure, but these farmers have seen it all before.

Injecting the anaesthetic into an animal with just a few bars between them, Ms Skirving is aware this is the optimal time to get kicked.

"Are you happy to pull and I'll cut?" she says to Wally.

New life

Around 20 minutes after her first scalpel cut, Ms Skirving is able to cut through the layers of abdominal cavity and uterine wall and pull the calf out, back legs first.

"We're winning," she exclaims, as the body slides out of the gaping hole in the side of the cow.

 

 

Photo: "You pull and I'll cut." A caesarean section on a cow.

 

The calf collapses on the ground, covered with blood and birthing fluids and gasps for air.

After such a difficult entry into the world, there is a high risk of the calf being brain dead.

Struggling to breathe, he makes a pitiful sight and Peter gently rubs his chest to get him started on his own while Ms Skirving is busy stitching up the incision with a neat row of stitches.

 

 

Photo: Struggling to breathe, the calf's chest is gently massaged by the farmer. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

Sometimes, calves born by caesarean have been so bright eyed and eager to feed, Ms Skirving has to push them away as she hurriedly sews up mum.

Expecting a more sombre outcome, the farmers are surprised and delighted to see the calf alive.

Untangling his long, unsteady legs, the newborn calf takes in the world from the dirt-covered floor of the stock yards.

Ms Skirving's face and clothes are covered with blood and muck, but she is smiling.

A live calf and a healthy cow is a welcome surprise on a Friday afternoon at the end of a long week at the practice.

 

Photo: Welcome to the world: a newborn calf at Weepar. (ABC South East SA: Kate Hill)

 

It's a good day after all, says Ms Skirving, as the calf shakes his head.

"I love it when they flap their ears. That's a good noise."

Enjoyed this story? The country vet series continues on June 12 on ABC South East.

Edited June 8, 2017 by Boronia