Two exams down, and I actually feel pretty good about the afternoon MCQ - it's been a while since I've left a written exam with strong confidence on my result, but then, all the bits and pieces I've had to read over and over again have probably managed to burn afterimages on my brain by now. I still get random figures popping into my head, something like: "283... Wait, wha? Why did I just think th- GESTATIONLENGTHOFCOW [feeble whimper]."
The bad part is that it'll probably take a day or two for them to settle down into the background, and I have a sinking feeling that I'll be spending that time as an unnerving shuffling figure in a raincoat who seems unusually keen to bring conversations around to things like how fascinating it is that sheep have placental progesterone to support later pregnancy while goats depend on the corpora lutea all the way through.
I wonder if anyone managed to hold up a reasonable pretense of This Is My Fascinated Face through all that...
I lost you at "raincoat"? Fair enough.
The more fretful part of today, though, was the morning: equine handling exam, and I'm not a horsey person. I did know enough of what I was supposed to know that I expected things to go pretty smoothly...
On entering with the other three in my exam group, one person from the last set was still fiddling with the third horse from the door. Three free horses, plus four vet students... equals an already nervous person having to twiddle thumbs until the fourth horse is free again, while the other three make their best attempts at bandaging.
When "my" horse did free up, my first assessment was putting on a stable bandage, which wouldn't have been difficult if it hadn't been so damn hard to find a large enough gamgee (under-padding) now that the others had claimed their bandaging supplies. I took what looked like the biggest one that was still in one piece and got to it:
Wrap padding around and tuck, roll bandage down roll roll roll roll, this pad should really reach to the hoof, roll up again roll roll ah shit out of bandage already?
I considered the bandage for about a minute before deciding that the general clunkiness of appearance was mostly due to the overlap being too heavy each time, took it all off, and just as I was about to put the bandage back into a nice roll one of the instructors brought me a better-sized bit of gamgee. Brilliant. What was I doing? Rolling bandage up. Right. Done, let's go again.
Wrap padding round, ooh that's sitting just as it should, excellent, loose end at front roll down and round and tuck in the end and roll down, let's try one-third overlap this time, roll roll roll, stopping just above the coronet and still on the padding, right, and now rolling up making a nice inverted V at the front of the hoof, roll roll roll oh this is beautiful this is, this may be the most perfect most beautiful stable bandage I shall ever create in my li- where's the velcro go-... ah fuck it's on the inside, I rolled the whole thing inside out didn't I.
Right, get that off again before the instructors see. Roll it the right way this time, and:
Wrap padding rou-
The horse made an innocent "oh, is someone trying to do something down there?" flick of its foot at this point that sent the gamgee to the floor, then promptly stood on it. Its foot was just the tiniest bit on the fabric, and I had some hope that it might not have all its weight on it, that maybe just enough was loose to pull it free without having to shift the whole horse first. Of course this wasn't the case, and from the marvellously precise positioning - covered enough to hold it hopelessly in place, yet little enough that the horse might draw some amusement from watching me try and fail - I have to conclude that the pinning was not only premeditated but practiced on previous years' vet students.
Back the horse up lift the gamgee wrap round leg tuck in loose end of bandage at front roll down WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING HORSE YOU RETRACE THOSE TWO STEPS NOW DAMMIT! Tuck gamgee round and- AGAIN?! WHAT THE HELL WHAT ARE YOU EVEN LOOKING AT?!
There are a few options for what to do when you know a relatively simple assessed task is taking forever and something with the IQ of a small child is potentially making you look bad - frustration is the guaranteed free gift, but it can come packaged with a number of things including Laugh Now, Cry Now, or my preferred cheaper options (insofar as dignity is concerned), Shaky Hands and Moment Of Clarity.
Also, apparently, with an instructor's head poking over the door reminding me that "it doesn't have to be that perfect," possibly thinking I've only redone it (really slowly?) because it wasn't quite natty enough, before adding thoughtfully, "Well, actually it does," while walking away.
Perhaps it does, and would if the horse was going to wear it for long, but to hell with this, I know what I'm supposed to be doing and it's not supposed to take all morning:
Send telepathic threats to horse, wrapandtuckgamgee loose end roll downtuckrollrollrollroll roll up with nice V rollrollrollroll velcro on the right side this time and no obvious problems and this is IT. This is a BANDAGE. A STABLE one, no less. I can bandage; I can even bandage BETTER than this, but this is the LAST time I am bandaging THIS LEG.
After all that there was a contemplative and not-wholly-encouraging "Weeellllll..." from the instructor (a moment in which I was sure I was going to be told I had failed, or worse, that I had to redo the bandage), then: "Could do with a bit of practice. It's a bit lumpy."
Lumpy?! I had looked for lumps, and there were no lumps on this bandage... that... weren't on the side closest to the instructor, furthest from me. Honestly.
A few bits of tacking up and leading later, I was able to leave with my "You Are Unlikely To Have A Horse Kill You In The Line Of Duty" papers signed. As I picked up my bag I looked back at the horse, who was now quietly looking over the door at me in an almost tangible desire to put some closure to the previous battle of wills. It was telling me, Come on, just admit I'm the master of the stall, and we'll let it go... maybe next time for you, eh?
I had another exam to get to, though, and in my Moment of Clarity I'd already decided that I wouldn't be baited by any frustrating horses or the frustrating things they'd done. I would wish the horse well as I left, and we would all come out with dignity and maturity...
Bye horsey; karma says the next rectal exam practiced on you comes from a guy with really big hands.
...well, something like that, anyway.
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**No animals were hurt during the making of this article. No animals will be hurt or otherwise mistreated due to the contents of this article. The views expressed in the article above are intended as humourous overstatement, so please untwist your knickers and see it for what is intended before hate-mailing/soap-boxing on behalf of this most noble and intelligent species, since I will probably only reply to remind you about the maggots in horse stomachs, the perils of horse flatulence, or their tendency to choose e.g. "bite big feck-off chunks out of the edges of wooden stable doors" as a bad habit.**
1 comment:
With really big hands, eh? I think we can arrange that.
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