Page generated Sep. 25th, 2017 02:26
ridicully: (Default)
So, I'm trying to keep up a bit of a travelog. Mainly because people want to see pictures of the trip and I hate facebook's picture sharing thing. So, I'm using one of my random RL-name connected domains for that. I don't see myself writing a lot there outside of holidays but for this it is good.

I'm probably going to crosspost most things here too. Just because.
ridicully: (Default)

Today, the first enterotomy that I did more or less completely on my own (time our Diplomate spent in the OR - 10 minutes at the max. Enough time to put exactly one stitch on the gut. Number of people in the whole surgery department on that day once he left? 2. Me and K. who was holding the gut for me. We were lucky a student poked her head in near the end of the procedure, to give us more suture material) came in for it's last check-up and to have the stitches out.

Nice Cocker Spaniel, eating and drinking fine (though hopefully no more swallowing of chestnuts), wound looking good, all is well.

Not even the early emergency shift that I really, really didn't want to cover today could stop my smile after that.

:D

ridicully: (Default)

Having just been foiled in my attempts to celebrate our national holiday in a different way than usual, because they've closed off most of the Tiergarten because of overcrowding (at least according to the announcements on the S-Bahn) , I've decided to fall back on my usual behaviour: Lazing around at home.

Of course this will result in the usual temporal disorientation that tends to follow holidays in the middle of the week. But as I have to work the weekend this shouldn't matter too much in the end.

And only part of the work on the weekend will be the shift of emergency vet (sorry, I don't think I'll get tired of calling myself that anytime soon, we get little enough of respect from the bosses and the clients, I sometimes need to use big words to describe my job at least here), the other part will be helping out with the organization of the next continuing education module (big words again. We're required to help with the refreshments and the cleaning. But we get to sit in on the lectures as well). On dermatology of all things. I foresee a lot of psychosomatic scratching in my future.

On the TMI-front )
ridicully: (Default)

Don't get me wrong, I love my job - not my place of work, but certainly my job.
It's just that when I come home at 11:30 p.m. on a Saturday I have off and just went in to help N. with his shift, and *then* have to scrub blood out of my underwear that's not my own that I start to wonder.

ridicully: (Oh No!)

Back in Berlin.
STOP
Another cosy meeting with the police and other drivers to exchange personal and insurance details
STOP
Wasn't even involved in accidents (nothing major, just a few rear-endings).
STOP
Still had to wait in the cold because one of the guys decided it was somehow *all my fault*
STOP
Police disagreed.
STOP
Yay









ridicully: (ridicully)

I have to drive back to Berlin today. But I don't want to.
Not so much because I want to stay here and do nothing - which I of course do - but because I fear that after I leave here today, I'm not going to see Kuno alive again.

He is an old dog now, and - especially if you haven't seen him for a while - you really notice it. And I'm fine with that, I've had pets all my live and I'm used to them growing old and dying at some point.
But I've always been there for that. If they were euthanised I held them until they were dead. If they died naturally (not many did, because even when I could not yet do it myself, I've felt that being able to stop them from suffering was a good thing. And while putting animals down it is not a *nice* part of my job, I still think it is mostly a *good* part and wouldn't give it up for anything.) I was there on their last days.

And that was mostly for my generations of rats, none of which lived longer than three years. Kuno is nearly ten now (which wouldn't be much of an age for a medium-sized dog like, for example, Cora but simply is for a larger dog like him) and has been with me since he was 3 months. And while Cora has been the family dog most of the time, Kuno is *mine*. He's been with me the whole five years in Leipzig. He's been with me even before I went to Uni. And while he has been staying with my family more in the last year (some of my neighbours don't like him and the three stairs up to my flat aren't the best for his joints either) and is happy here, he is still my dog.

Now, being a Doberman, he has a good chance of just keeling over dead at some point (they tend to have heart troubles) and while I know this would be the best way for him to go, I don't have to *like* it. I just really don't want him to die without being by his side.
Oh well, even if I don't like it, I'll have to suck it up.
(But at least I can complain about it in my LJ. That's what it's there for after all)

ridicully: (crazy)

Hi, my name is Alex and the world likes to throw stuff at me.
At least it seemed that way when half an exhaust system (a pretty large silencer at least) came tumbling my way while I was doing 130 km/h. I *did* avoid some other large piece of metal, but though it was pretty visible (sparks will do that to a piece of metal on the road) I couldn't avoid that second one. And it was large enough that my car did not just pass over it. Oh no, it got stuck below my car, just to the side of one wheel. And made a lot of noise. And sparks. I think those were the reason it only took me about a kilometer to get from the left lane to the shoulder (over two other other lanes, one of them populated by a number of lorries).

And then I was standing there, with a large piece of metal stuck under my car that didn't want to come out. In the dark. Just my idea of fun.
But hey, I pride myself on being a sensible person, so sensible I was.
Warning triangle put up, car jack attached (and getting it out from below my dog in the boot with the lorries passing was certainly hell on my nerves even if Kuno generally doesn't jump out of the car without being told to do so), car cranked up further and further until the silencer was no longer wedged in there (with lots of swearing because of the cheap jack that came with the car), car put down again.
See me being sensible. See also the police arriving just as I finished with the whole act (I didn't call for them, they were just looking for the silencer).


At least the police not only helped me have a closer look on the liquid that had dropped from somewhere into the wheel - they agreed that it was neither hydraulic oil nor petrol, which was good, because while I was pretty sure it wasn't I quite like a second opinion where the possibilities of non working breaks or explosions are concerned - but also took me to meet the guy who caused the problem so I could get his insurance details and stuff.

What makes me really grumpy is that while I don't have to pay for the repairs, I still have to wait until all the parts can be ordered and varnished the right colour. And this will take until Wednesday at least. But I have to drive back to Berlin on Tuesday, which means renting a car and all the fun that comes with it.
Looking at the bright side, I'm older than any age limits these firms like to set up.

Still, I feel like I've had enough excitement for a while now.

ridicully: (Machsmit<3)

I'd like to be able to blame someone else, but other than [livejournal.com profile] ryf mentioning piercings some entries back I had no reason to check on the two holes in my earlobes I've had since I was five. (I nearly never wear earrings and only put some studs in every six months or so to stop them from closing up.)
And even though the first rule about dealing with earrings I've ever learned was "If you put them on in front of the bathroom mirror, put the plug in!" I didn't. Meaning of course, the thing went sailing into the siphon at the first opportunity.

Now, I growing up with two younger sisters meant my parents taught us very soon how to get stuff out of there, because something would disappear down the drain pretty regularly.
Out came the plumber wrench and screwdriver, off came the siphon and soon I had my earring back. No problem so far. Only, I didn't count on the age of the plumbing here.
The rubber of the first gasket started to crumble while I was still taking the thing apart. Which means, that now we'll have to deal with a non-working bathroom sink until I can get a new gasket tomorrow.
Now please excuse me, I feel the pressing need to hit my head against the wall a few times.


(And no spellcheck I did neither mean 'Rif-Raf' nor RAF when I wrote 'ryf')

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