Can You Hear Me Now?

So, for the last 2 years or so (Hey, Doc! What's the rush?) I've had a persistent ringing in my right ear. At first, I only noticed it as a sort of static noise when I'd turn the car off in the driveway after getting home. But over the last several months (year?) it's been getting more persistent, and is now constant.  Dr. Google says that tinnitus is *always* accompanied by hearing loss, and I was concerned that I might be missing things with my stethoscope. So off to the Audiologist and ENT I go. The Audiologist confirms that I have some drop off in my right ear at 6MHz and up. "Do you *think* you're missing sounds with your stethoscope?" Umm. How would I know I'm missing them if I CAN'T HEAR THEM???  ENT says it's unusual for unilateral issues, especially since I'm not a rifle shooter. We'll retest in 6 months and likely do an MRI if no change. So, 6 months passes with no improvement. When I made the recheck appointment, they didn't tell me that Dr. X had left the practice (not that it would have mattered to me) and I saw Dr. Y. Whom, I'm not sure read my record and basically said, "You're fine. Don't worry about it." Fast forward a couple weeks and I had my regular checkup with my Allergist. I mentioned the tinnitus to him and he was concerned enough to have me seen by yet another ENT, who scheduled an MRI, which I had last Wednesday. Which the nurse told me yesterday afternoon was fine. Except I can see a big blob of something in the LEFT inner ear, so she was going to have the doc call me today (probably while I'm trying to sleep).

Why do I get weird stuff?

Well, aren't I Dr. Consitent

So much for this Trying To Post At Least Weekly idea. Oh well.

One of the things I have learned (not always well) in my almost 55 years is that I need to cut myself a break every now and then and realize that I don't have to be perfect all the time (I have a sister to take care of that for the family), it's okay to say No (still working on that lesson) and that most people (including me) are doing the best they can. Whether or not that's good enough, ya gotta work with what ya got.

That's all I got for profundity tonight.

Well. Dr. Death tonight.  Within a half hour, had a HBC hemoabdomen who crashed and burned before we could do anything, a white-as-a-sheet didn't have a red blood cell in her body dog who also crashed and burned, and a possible bloat (not quite sure on that one) who crashed and burned while trying to stabilize him.

Lots of sadness tonight.

Beginnings

After many fitful starts and stops, I've decided, at the ripe old age of 53, to keep a sort of journal.Since it seemed boring to just open a text document in Open Office, I'll try my hand at blogging. Not that I actually have anything earth-shattering to say, or even vaguely interesting, but we'll give this a try and see where it goes. I'm lately ("lately" being the last 10 years) finding it hard to keep my mind on task. Not sure if this is Adult ADD, or I just don't give much of a crap.

I'm not really sure how to go about this blogging thing, because I'm not really sure I want (or expect) anyone else to read this or care.

I'm what I like to call a cynical optimist (or optimistic cynic?), which basically means I think that the overwhelming number of people are basically good-hearted and decent, but I want to beat the crap out of those rare few mouth-breathers that make life difficult for the rest of us. I had a client once tell me that one of his goals in life was to make the people around him miserable. I told him he was doing a damned fine job with me.  Unfortunately, after that, he decided I was the greatest thing since sliced bread and I was his "go-to" vet.

Oh, yeah. I'm a vet. A small animal veterinarian, to be exact. I've done small town practice where you learn a lot of seat of the pants medicine, and some creative improvising that they don't teach you in vet school. I've done slightly less small town (5 months of my life I'll never get back) where the toxic fumes oozed out of the practice (and by "toxic" I'm being metaphoric). More work in a small town where I still live, and will probably have my ashes scattered some day. Suburban practice where most clients' cars cost more than my first house. Shelter medicine (actually, just the surgery clinic), where I could just "get in the zone" all day and did more surgery in a year than I've done in the other 24 combined. ER work then rural/suburban and now ER again. (Did I mention the Adult ADD? Ooh. Shiny!)

One of these days I'll figure out what I want to be when I grow up. But not just yet.