J. Dean Hunter
Shared from a colleague many years ago:
"In your senior year of vet school, you have an opportunity to spend time working in veterinary offices to experience 'real life practice' out of the spirals of the ivory tower in which you spend your first three academic years. I strategically booked a stent with a busy upstate practice for early October, thinking it would be a great time to be out of the city and enjoy some of the seasonal foliage - a breath of fresh air filled with the smell of pumpkin spice and candied apples. It was a very eclectic practice, being just close enough to the city to catch a wide array of affluent commuters from all backgrounds, yet just far enough out to encompass some of the rustic more earthy lifestyles ... it even supported a small local Amish community (a society who takes great pride and care for their farm animals).
Among the associates of the practice, one of its most senior remaining partners was Dr. Rhadstatjamen, whose more abbreviated days seem mostly filled with neonatal boosters for puppies and kittens, answering questions about diet and parasite control, and 'public relations'. Without a yardstick, I'd measure him to be close to five foot seven and all of one hundred forty five pounds. He bore a thick but short silver mane (though office photos reveal a once rich onyx black) with iridescent blue eyes - very uncharacteristic for his middle eastern birthright. The son of independence liberation immigrants, he arrived in the harbor too young for an accent but too old for naturalized citizenship. Despite the hurdles, he'd run his race with fervor and managed to work his way through college in a local grocer. He supplemented his income with tips from home deliveries and was then accepted to vet school in one of the country's most prestigious academies (maybe I should declare my possible bias as it is now my alma mater as well) and one of the few universities which would accept a student of a diverse background at that time.
My time spent with him answered any doubt one would have related to the merit of his achievements as he proved to be one of the most brilliant minds I have had the privilege with whom to associate looking back even now after a lifetime of practice.
On one of the early days of my preceptorship, I was assigned to accompany 'Dr. Rhadj' on one of his frequent public relations junkets ... speaking for a student group at a local elementary school. Under his lab jacket (crisply starched with his full name neatly embroidered just above the left breast pocket), he wore a brightly patterned kurta of yellow, brown, red and burnt orange. I naively assumed it to be in taking with the seasonal fall colors. I later learned it was the only thing he kept from his late father - worn only on the most special occasions.
Upon arrival, several classes of children were quietly shuffled into the school's library amidst the predictable murmurs and whispers from the students and re-occurring 'shhh's' from the accompanying teachers. Once everyone was seated, introductions were made followed by a brief but congenial round of applause for 'Dr. Rhadj taking time out of his very busy day to spend part of it here with us' and we were all instructed to 'be polite and listen carefully to what he had to say'.
I later learned that elementary students tend to be much better listeners than middle or high school. It helped that Dr. Rhadj had brought along his pet tarantula (a detail that had been concealed from me in our drive over - while I am not particularly arachnophobic, it might have been nice to know there was a four inch spider resting quietly in a small box between our seats) Charlotte, named after the beloved children's classic. Charlotte was a sapphire ornamental tarantula native to Dr. Rhadj's home and with her brilliant cobalt color was mesmerizing to young and adults alike. She laddered from hand to hand pausing occasionally for an immobile respite as Dr. Rhadj spoke on the responsibilities of pet ownership - making sure your pet had shelter, fresh water and good food. Then of course the discussion emphasized the importance of regular veterinary health care with 'inoculations' (as Dr. Rhadj believed we should never talk down to children, rather lift them with our vocabulary), parasite control and regular checkups.
As the presentation came to a close, the audience (still bewildered by Charlotte) was given the customary opportunity for questions. And, as is the nature of their age, every hand immediately went up and began to wave frantically. We patiently (some of us more so than others) waded through the barrage of diatribes most of which were more personal stories than actual questions. Eventually, much to my relief, one of the administrating adults interrupted to acknowledge that 'these were all fascinating stories about experiences each of us has had with an animal, but does anyone have an actual question for Dr. Rhadj? perhaps something like what was the most interesting case he has ever seen?' Immediately an enthusiastic hand shot up reaching toward the ceiling as if a drowning victim were struggling to find the water surface for air. 'Yes, you there in the back' prayed Dr. Rhadj. 'Uhm what my question is ... is uhm what was the most interesting sick animal you have ever worked on?'
'That is a very interesting question' replied the good doctor - leaving the student bursting with pride and the envy of all those around him as if his question had been original. 'I would have to say that in all my many years of practice, the very most interesting case I ever worked on was a dog with a stomach ache'. (I contained my eye roll, as nauseous dogs are statistically the absolute most common presenting complaint in a veterinary office). 'This poor pup' he went on to explain 'had found some food that had poison in it' ... a murmured gasp rolled across the crowd. 'The poison gave him a stomach ache and made him vomit up the food. However, when he did, one of his neighbor dogs came up and found the vomited food and ate it' 'Gross!' cringed the entire audience almost in unison. 'Now the second dog was sick and he vomited up the food, but as it lay on the ground, two of his friends came up and ate it' 'Ewwwww' repealed the group, now hanging on every word of a story I then understood was ideal for the audience. 'Those two had not traveled far when they too got sick from the poison and vomited up the tainted food, which was then eaten by three dogs that had come to see what everyone was eating. This continued till every dog on the farm and each of the neighboring farms was sick at their stomach. Fortunately the chain was interrupted when it reached a farm where all the dogs were very well fed with nutritious food so when the sick dogs vomited, the well fed dogs were not interested and did not eat the poison.'
As his voice trailed with the end of the story, I surveyed the crowd to see them all wide eyed with gaping mouths, most frozen in what almost appeared to be mid breath. After a long quiet pause, respiration returned and one student slowly raised her hand. 'Yes?' nodded the focal center. 'What was the poison?' asked the child. 'A poison called 'hatred' ' replied my new hero. Slowly another hand raised and without being called upon a voice we could hear but not well see behind rows of heads, ears and hair cued 'how do you know if you get it?' 'Well' pondered Dr. Rhadj 'Hatred has a very distinctive sweet smell, that attracts animals to it, and is even sweeter to the tip of your tongue. But then after you get it, it has a very very bitter after taste, and burns as it goes down your throat . Then it churns like acid when it gets to your stomach' 'You mean like whiskey?!' shouted an unidentified voice from the back - yielding an eruption of laughter from all the adults present, and confusion from many of the children. 'Yes' smiled our guru 'it can even cause delirium much like whisky.'
With the laughter breaking the tone, it seemed like a good time to bring things to a close. Another round of applause was extended to Dr. Rhadj with everyone's gratitude for him coming to see them and share his stories. The children started to stand and organize themselves in rows preparing to file out as they had filed in when a voice elevated above the rumble 'Did they live?' 'Pardon?' said the doctor. 'Did the dogs live? did you save them?' Once again the crowd silenced as they were all anxious to hear the outcome - not having realized they had completely missed the end of the story. 'Yes, Yes they did, we were able to save all the dogs affected'. A sigh of relief pass through the group in a wave. 'Fortunately there is an antidote for the poison' he went on, 'the antidote is education. That is why it is so important for all of you to be here and do well in school, to get your education. Being filled with good healthy information makes you less interested in the poison of hatred. It helps you recognize hatred when you smell it's tempting smell, and you can always taste its bitter aftertaste. When you come across hatred, you can stop it there rather than consuming it, then vomiting it out for others around you to consume and to be consumed by it.'
The car ride back to the office began with me confirming that Charlotte had been safely stowed.
Of all the things I learned working with Dr. Rhadj and his colleagues that month, no doubt the most valuable thing I took from my stent was gained with a group of elementary students."