Healing with Poetry

I'll depart from my normal routine this month, if you'll allow. I've wanted to share some thoughts on my favorite poet Mary Oliver for some time and, although not a vet or in any way associated with the veterinary or agriculture industry, Mary writes about nature and animals in such a wonderful, thoughtful way that I think she deserves a shout out here. My introduction to Mary's work was through a delightful, small work of poems called Dog Songs. If you in any way love dogs, buy it now and cherish it. It is lovely.

It this collection, Mary celebrates many of the dogs with whom she's shared her life and offers such wisdom as:

"Be prepared. A dog is adorable and noble.

A dog is a true and loving friend. A dog

is also a hedonist."

Mary Oliver

and

"Dog is one of the messengers of that rich and still magical first world. The dog would remind us of the pleasures of the body with its graceful physicality, and the acuity and rapture of the senses, and the beauty of forest and ocean and rain and our own breath. There is not a dog that romps and runs but we learn from him."

Mary Oliver

and

"And it is exceedingly short, his galloping life. Dogs die so soon. I have my stories of that grief, no doubt many of you do also. It is almost a failure of will, a failure of love, to let them grow old--or so it feels. We would do anything to keep them with us, and to keep them young. The one gift we cannot give."

This last passage reminds me that I'm to send a copy of Dog Songs to my mom, because her yellow Lab, Phoenix, of 14 years, died this week. I think the words above speak to our gut-wrenching loss of those pups we couldn't save (in the end, isn't it all of them?) no matter what. My own black Lab, Shadow, died of heart failure two years ago and I've said if not for species differences, I would have donated my own heart.

And oh, how easy it is to slip into sentimentality when we talk about lost pets. I'm teetering on that edge right now. The Rainbow Bridge and all that. One can jump overboard. Of course, that's not the intent of this entry. Instead, this is meant as an illustration of how poetry helps and heals (and poetry about animals, especially!).

But, if your heart is heavy because you've lost a pet, here are some comforts:

• Brain Picking's example of how a Zen master explains death
• Neil Gaiman's moving tribute to his beloved dog Cabal
• Dr. Sarah Boston's more medically-aligned yet heartfelt analysis of euthanasia
• And the bittersweet Kipling poem, The Power of the Dog

Other collections by Mary are just as enchanting. In Blue Iris, for example, one poem expresses how the morning sunlight touches flowers with "buttery fingers." Yeah, that's what I'm talking about, people. The beauty of language. Whew boy. *mops brow*

As of yet, Mary doesn't have a collection about cats. I'd like to ask her about that.

Until next time.

Believable Blogging

A few weeks ago I had the chance to chat with Dr. Jessica Vogelsang, veterinarian and social media maven, commonly known as Dr. V. Some of you may be familiar with Jessica's popular blog, Pawcurious, or her numerous other writing activities, such as blogger over at petMD and frequent contributor to DVM360, not to mention other national publications and media appearances. Most recently, this summer Jessica's first book came out--All Dogs Go to Kevin--a veterinary memoir. Jessica and I talked about writing for the masses via social media and she offered plenty of sage advice. Let me share that with you.

Jessica graduated from UC-Davis School of Veterinary Medicine in 2002. Having always enjoyed writing, Jessica turned her hobby into something more substantial as blogging gained a foothold. "I've been writing forever," she says. "I had never envisioned it actually being an effective way to educate large groups of people, it was just sort of me writing to friends who were interested in hearing what life was like as a vet." As technology became more on-line friendly, and with some help and encouragement from her husband who has IT experience, Jessica discovered blogging was a perfect fit as a writing outlet.

"The idea of using social media to educate people on a larger scale really became more front and center," Jessica says. "One of the things that is challenging for professional people on social media is that you really need to engage people on a personal level and that's really hard for a lot of people who want to write things very informational and very impersonal. That's not really what people are looking for. So, blogging has been an exercise in trying to strike that balance: to give accurate, professional information while still being relatable. That's what I've been trying to do."

A reader of Pawcurious will quickly notice Jessica's writing voice. Although veterinary in nature, Jessica weaves in her own life experiences between the science. Her's is not the "Ten Tips to Treat Fleas" site. Instead, Jessica shares her life as a vet, a mother, and an individual with her audience. "Everything I wanted to say medically I did in the first year," she says of her blog, which started in 2009. "Vaccines, nutrition, everything. Now I like writing about what I do in the voice that I have. I write about things going on in my own life and own work. If I can't tie it back to something that's going on in my life or in the news, then it's not as interesting to me. There are only so many times you can write about core vaccines." TRUTH.

"There are only so many times you can write about core vaccines." 

Blogging about how you vacuum your carpets is one thing, but blogging about vet med for general public education is an entirely different monster. Jessica knows this first hand and discusses what she views as the pros and cons of social media for those in the vet biz. "The pro of social media is that everyone has a voice," she says. "The con is the same thing. It is good and bad. Social media is a great way to talk to people that you would have never come across, but on the same token, you have people who are really good at establishing a personal relationship but they don't necessarily use that to share appropriate information. Someone can have a million fans and spout stuff that makes zero sense. It is frustrating when you see somebody selling snake oil and undoing all the good work you've been doing for so many years just because he or she as a good graphic designer."

So, the book. Jessica describes her memoir process as backwards because she was approached by a publisher who asked if she would write a book. Of course she said yes (duh), so then she acquired an agent and only then did they decide what the book was going to be about. Crazy, right? Normally, the book process goes: write, submit, rejection, rejection, rejection, (x 104392), then agent and then publisher. (But, my dear readers and writers: NEVER GIVE UP.)

Jessica admits her version of the writing game is unique. "Traditional publishing is so much work," she acknowledges. "If I had to do it the traditional way, I don't think I would have the tenacity to keep going. These novelists are incredible, given the rate of rejection they receive. I was fortunate that I had a lot of guidance and I knew that at the end of the day this was going to be a published book."

OK, so now that we are all incredibly jealous of Jessica's backwards path to publication, what is her book about? "The book is a memoir about three dogs that I had at three interesting points in my life," she says. "My Lhasa I had as a child, the Golden Retriever I had as a graduate student, and the crazy Lab I had as I got older. It features personal stories and stories from the vet clinic. I wanted to share the wonder of what these little guys bring to our lives and how they have this purpose that we may not even recognize until they are gone."

"I wanted to share the wonder of what these little guys bring to our lives."

The memoir writing process has always been a source of fascination to me. How can a writer dig deep enough to make the language compelling? Is there a chance of digging too deeply? Is it a fine line? "It was an emotional process because when you are writing a memoir, you are really trying to revisit those moments and find the words to describe the emotions you are going through," says Jessica. "I write about the deaths of my own pets in detail and it was hard. I spent some times at one in the morning typing and crying. It does take a lot out of you. But you have to be willing to go there if you want your writing to affect people. If you write detached then the reader will be detached as well."

"If you write detached then the reader will be detached."

Naturally, the conversation turns to time. Where is it? Can you buy more of it? Is there a vending machine that dispenses half hour chunks for a few quarters or part of your soul? For those particularly in the veterinary field, finding time to write or do another hobby or even brush your teeth on a regular basis is sometimes a challenge. These "other" things are part of what is called self-care and there is a lack of it in the vet med world. This is a problem.

"I think we are conditioned to feel guilty either by colleagues or by clients to want to take time for ourselves," says Jessica. "That's crazy to me. We get it more than any other profession out there. I don't understand why that is. Why do people feel perfectly free to demand ownership over our lives, over this professional decision we made, and think they have the right to tell us that we should sacrifice everything? This has to be something that is discussed by the profession as a whole. Self-care has to be obligatory in this type of profession if you want to maintain your sanity."

This concept of self-care and its deprivation in the vet med realm is something that social media has helped moved to the forefront. "When we had several high profile suicides in the last couple of years and everybody was shocked and started talking, it was like: oh, me too," says Jessica. "It was like every single person was going through the same thing. [Sharing] has really opened the dialogue. That's just as important as the self-care itself: having that ability to speak with other colleagues who validate those feelings."

Jessica and I ended our conversation with some words of wisdom to impart on those intrepid would-be bloggers. "First thing, anonymity is a lie," she says. "Do not think you can post anonymously online. You have to be careful. The other thing is be aware. Of course you want to educate and enlighten people but people will take what you say to justify what they already believe, for good or bad. You can control what you write but you can't control what people do with it once it's out there."

"Anonymity is a lie."

At the end of it all, whether you're looking to create your own blog, or post pictures of your amazing Pug or Persian or Palomino on Instagram, or write the most amazing, fascinating, refreshing articles on core vaccines, just remember to do your best. And of course you will. "I'm going to write what I care about and create quality content and hopefully that will be enough," Jessica says. "I just want to be true to the things I think are important. And I think that's really the best anyone can do." Amen, sister.

I'm Listening

I made the commitment leap and started my own book club.  Our first meeting is this coming Thursday and the book we are discussing is: The Art of Racing in the Rain, by Garth Stein.  I've never been a book club member before, so I'm not sure how it will go, but I'm excited.  This, the book club I mean, is definitely a topic for an upcoming blog, so stay tuned for that.

What I really wanted to chat about today is the topic of listening and there's a wonderful piece in Stein's book about it.  The narrator of the story is a lovely dog named Enzo.  Being a dog, he can't speak, so we're privy instead to his thoughts and observations, particularly regarding human interaction.  Enzo is convinced when he dies, his soul will leave and become human and thus with the life he is currently living, he takes note on what will make him a good human.  Which brings me to this excerpt:

"Here's why I will be a good person.  Because I listen.  I cannot speak, so I listen very well.  I never interrupt, I never deflect the course of the conversation with a comment of my own.  People, if you pay attention to them, change the direction of one another's conversations constantly.  It's like having a passenger in your car who suddenly grabs the steering wheel and turns you down a side street.  For instance, if we met at a party and I wanted to tell you a story about the time I needed to get a soccer ball in my neighbor's yard but his dog chased me and I had to jump into a swimming pool to escape, and I began telling the story, you, hearing the words "soccer" and "neighbor" in the same sentence, might interrupt and mention that your childhood neighbor was Pele, the famous soccer player, and I might be courteous and say, Didn't he play for the Cosmos of New York?  Did you grow up in New York?  And you might reply that, no, you grew up in Brazil on the streets of Tres Coracoes with Pele, and I might say, I thought you were from Tennessee, and you might say not originally, and then go on to outline your genealogy at length.  So my initial conversational gambit - that I had a funny story about being chased by my neighbor's dog - would be totally lost, and only because you had to tell me all about Pele.  Learn to listen!  I beg of you.  Pretend you are a dog like me and listen to other people rather than steal their stories."

I love this excerpt.  And I love Enzo.  What a wise creature.  He's right.  Shut up and listen.  Humans are terrible listeners.  Most of them.  But there are at least two professions where listening is a coveted tool: veterinary medicine and writing.

Vets have to be good listeners.  Every piece of information that comes out of an owner's mouth could contain some insight into what the dog ate or what changed in the horse's environment.  They may not realize it.  I may not realize it, just then.  But as words and sentences swirl together to create a story about what happened last night at the emergency room, subtle observations creep out and clues are teased from the mass.

In vet school and after graduation, still wet behind the ears, upon a patient's initial physical exam, I would be so determined to ask the right questions, and get the most helpful answers, that I found myself concentrating on what I was going to ask and I missed half of what the owner was saying.  Listening takes practice.

I feel for the most part authors are good listeners as well.  Part of constructing good fictional dialogue is understanding what real conversation sounds like, and taking out all the bad, redundant bits (and run-on sentences - man, do people talk like crazy with run-on sentences.)

So what about you?  Are you a good listener? 

Wormy Wednesday!

Wormy Wednesday!

It’s been a grotesquely long time since I’ve done a Wormy Wednesday, but I have good reason for one today, so here we go!  

A few weeks ago I had the great privilege to visit the United States’ National Parasite Collection (USNPC).  Bet you didn’t even know there was such a thing, did you?  Tucked quietly away at a USDA office in Beltsville, Maryland, an extremely unassuming building, nay, the BASEMENT of the building, holds the most amazing collection of parasites, both endo and ecto, in the world.  This is not just uber-veterinary-nerd-hyperbole.  It really does house the largest specimen collection in the world.  Of course it helps when most of your specimens are teeny tiny like fleas and sections of cattle liver fluke on a microscope slide.

Walking into this basement is a surreal experience.  At first, you just see compressed shelves – you know, the type that are on rollers to save space.  But when the shelves are opened up and you peer down one, you see jars upon jars of things in formalin.  And I love jars of things in formalin.  There’s just something fascinating and creepy all at the same time about something that’s been preserved for the past fifty years in a Mason jar filled with yellowing liquid.  Maybe this is the mad scientist in me speaking out.  I don’t know.  Perhaps I’m abnormally riveted by this sort of stuff.  

Yay! Random jars!

My abnormalities aside, the breadth of the collection combined with its history is practically awe-inspiring.  There were specimens in there from the last half of the 19^th century!  The host animals ranged from the dog to Antarctic seals. 

However, in my opinion, for any parasite collection to be worth its salt, it must contain one of my most favorite parasites: the canine giant kidney worm.  My fascination with this parasite dates back to my vet school days in parasitology class, sophomore year.  Our professor had a modest collection of parasites for lab use, as most parasitologists do.  During labs we would examine ad nauseum the feeding and breeding apparati of various nematodes, trematodes, and cestodes (ooohh, look at that spicule!  Wow is that an excretory pore or what?) of prepared slides which were more than showing their age under the microscope.  Most interesting to me were the jarred specimens sitting at the front bench.

There was one specimen that immediately caught my eye – a kidney cut longitudinally.  Within this kidney was a worm.  Just a worm.  This thing had obliterated the entire inner structure of this organ and set up shop inside.  It was horrifying.  And so extremely fascinating.  Here are the deets:

The giant kidney worm is more politely called Dioctophyme renale, or D. renale for short.  It’s true host is the mink but occasionally an unlucky dog can become an unsuspecting host.  Eggs of D. renale are passed in the urine of the infected animal.  These eggs then go through a complicated life cycle involving various intermediate hosts such as fish and frogs.  With each pass through an intermediate host, the parasite slowly matures.  Then a mink (or dog) comes along and eats a fish or frog that is harboring these developing larvae.  Once ingested, the larvae of D. renale migrate eventually to the kidney where they grow to adults, breed, and pass eggs into the urine to start the life cycle over.

Here is D. renale in all its kidney-destroying glory.

One of the most interesting details of this parasite is that it only ever infects one kidney, and specifically, almost always the right kidney.  Although I’m not sure why the predilection for the right kidney, the parasite seems to know that if both kidneys were infected, the host animal would die.  And when you’re a parasite, you don’t really want your host to die, otherwise you're out on the street looking for a new place to rent.  So this adaptation of the one-kidney-only rule allows for the successful survival of this parasite.

Unlike common gastrointestinal parasites like tapeworms and roundworms which reside in the intestines and can cause weight loss and diarrhea and are diagnosed via fecal sample, D. renale is usually diagnosed when the host animal succumbs to kidney failure (since one kidney has been obliterated).  Treatment is removal of the infected kidney.

Although this all sounds really scary, fear not.  Even though the parasite has been reported across the United States, it is really, really rare to find it in dogs.  Are you a mink owner?  Well, then maybe be a little more worried about it.  I don’t know – I don’t treat minks.  Prevention is to not let your dog eat raw fish, frogs, and other icky wigglies out in the wild…. But try telling that to a Labrador.  Good luck.

A mink. Because I wasn't quite sure what one looked like. Appears similar to a ferret. Man, those are some beady little eyes!

So, anyway, to get back to my epic adventure in the halls of the USNPC, with bated breath I asked the question: “Do you or do you not have the giant kidney worm?”

And I was not disappointed.

There, on a table, was a dog kidney encased for eternity in a clear block of plaster.  Inside this kidney was D. renale, all curled up and tucked in, cozy as could be.  Amazing.  My trip was complete. Sadly, there were no postcards to purchase.

 

More than one way to write a query or castrate a dog

This has been a roller coaster week - two half marathons in a row have kept me physically stressed and I've been busy at work refreshing my memory on cattle reproductive hormones (prostaglandins in particular, like good ol' prostaglandin E2, which means a review of the cyclooxygenase 2 pathway and all that good stuff).  However, I've tried to remain diligent with my writing and soon I'll have a few more queries to send out to magazines.

If you look up "how to write a query letter" you'll find an almost overwhelming amount of advice online which is simultaneously great and aggravating.  Yes, there is the standard set-up of a query letter: the "hook", the synopsis, and your biography, but just how you craft your hook can be done about a million ways.

I don't know about you, but although options are sometimes nice (like ice cream), for other things such as query writing and learning to drive a manual transmission, I want to be told ONE WAY to do it for starters.

ALL THE OPTIONS!!!

Some aspects of veterinary medicine are like this too.  Take castrations.  Junior year of vet school is when you begin to learn the art of surgery.  You start with the basics, which is the feline neuter.  Then you up the ante a little and progress to the canine neuter (interesting to note how different all the species are when it comes to testicles).  We would practice and refresh our anatomy on cadavers with the surgeons hovering around in the background trying to offer helpful tips.  I remember one particularly easy-going small animal surgeon (I know, I know: What? An easy-going small animal surgeon!? That's crazy talk!) offering tips when castrating a dog: you can do the "closed" technique or "open."  You can use two clamps or three.  You can use this suture and these knots, or this one over here.  You can close the skin with this suture pattern or that.  "Which one would you prefer?" he asked us in the anatomy lab, referring to which combination of methods to use during this surgery, almost like employing artistic license.

It was too much for me.  "How are we supposed to know?" I asked.  Asking which way I prefer when I've never actually done it was so weird and annoying to me, I was getting aggravated, not to mention confused.  What is the tunica albuginia again? Which is the Kelly hemostat?  Perhaps the formalin fumes were getting to me.  "Just show me ONE WAY to do it for now," I said.  "Once I get comfortable with that, then I can try other methods."

The day of the actual neuter on the actual (living) dog went fine.  Things were clamped, things were removed, and the dog woke up afterwards.  Now of course I forgot the way I chose to do it.  Also, I'll admit I don't neuter every dog the same way - different situations call for different methods.  I suppose it's sort of the same thing with a query letter. 

Now that I have lots of dog neuters and query letters under my belt, I'm not as stressed or annoyed when someone suggests something new.  I can nod my head and think: yes, I've thought about placing that ligature there.  Or: yes, I've wondered about including that piece of information here.  Having more than one option helps keep you flexible and even helps you be more creative (that creativity part only applies to queries - probably not a good idea to get too creative when castrating something....)

Now to explore my options in the ice cream department...