Never Volunteer (Soft Stomach, Part 2)

My second vomiting incident occurred in the vet clinic directly following lunch hour.  Dr. P called for some assistance to hold a dog steady while she re-wrapped a dressing that had been covering a tumor removal sight on a dog’s wrist.  I thought it would be a great idea to face my fears, once and for all, and brave it.  Desensitize via exposure, at least that was my logic at the time.

So I did what any sensible, queasy-stomached, needle-phobic person would do…..I volunteered.

The moment Dr. P began explaining in detail how the surgery went and what was done to “pull the dog’s skin back together on the wrist”, I began to sense that this was a bad idea.  No matter, I was going to be brave and tough it out.  The dog was on the examining table, Dr. P was on one side, I was on other, slightly leaning over the dog while I helding the wrist steady for Dr. P to unwrap and then rewrap with new dressing. 

Then I decided to take a look; just a small little peek really. That's all.

Looking back, I'm not sure why I thought being brave in that moment of time was a good idea. 

OH GOSH!

I looked away pretty much instantly.  And then I waited….and waited.  Nothing happened. No fainting, no tunnel vision.  I was so proud of myself. 

I then made my third mistake (the first being, volunteering for this job, of course; the second being to look the first time)  I looked again, this time for longer. Wow, now that was an impressive sight.  I saw muscles and sinews.  I monitored myself closely.  Still no fainting, no tunnel vision…then I looked at my  fingernails…..
yup, they were green. 

Instantly, the tunnel vision began. My ears started ringing and then I lost sound in the right ear.

NO!  I began to get angry at myself. Come on, Rachel. Suck it up and snap out of it!  This is ridiculous!  It wasn’t even THAT nasty looking, I only saw muscle tissue, dried blood, tendons, and oh, goodness, was that white thing…a… BONE!! Oh my gosh, I saw a bone! I knew it...  It was a bone. Ew, ew…gross!!

Then my head began to get really heavy, and my vision was now in just a small pin light.  I focused.  I focused SO hard on what I could see.  I focused on the dog’s collar and ID.  I read the small numbers over and over again, trying desperately to get something else on my brain. But it was too late, and I knew it.   I was a goner.  A classic case.

So how can I recover this awkward situation so it doesn’t get out of control? Because passing out in front of Dr. P would just be so embarrassing I thought.

I knew the basics of how to prevent passing out, which is to lower the head to increase blood flow to the brain.  But that’s kind of a noticeable move to make, especially when stealthiness was the key to not alert Dr. P that I was struggling.  Not to mention the fact that I was STANDING by the table.

So what did I do? I casually lowered myself closer to the table, my head nearly touching the dogs back as I looked away.  In my mind, (at the time) it was a very subtle move. Riiiight.

But then it hit me.  That unmistakable tightening of the stomach.  I knew avoiding the inevitable was pointless. 

I was going to lose my lunch.....aaaaaand I thought I was still in the “stealth mode”.

I’m going to barf, but it’s going to be ok. I distinctly remember thinking the grossest thought ever....  I’m just going to hold it in my mouth until she is done, which has got to be soon.

Thinking back about it now .... that's really nasty.  But when you are about to pass out, your brain cleary doesn't think properly.  Obviously.

I felt pretty good about this plan of action and it worked perfectly as I quietly heaved into my mouth…However, my plan fell apart when my body told me, “I’m gonna heave again.”

Well, if you haven’t noticed, BODY, I have NO ROOM in my mouth for this shenanagins! 

Undeterred, my body heaved once more.  Time went into slow motion as I frantically searched for something to catch my lunch.

The trash can that Dr. P was using to drop the old wrappings into quickly became my target.  I flew around the table, grabbed the can and propelled my lunch, only inches away from Dr. P's leg.

I remember there being a half a moment of awkward silence as I finished and stood back up.  Then, while still calmly wrapping the dog’s bandage, Dr. P said, “”Oh, I didn’t realize you were at that point yet.”

YET!?  She had known all along, observed my pale face, green fingernails, and “casual attempts” to lower my head.  Afterwards, I sat on the floor of the vet clinic for a good 10 minutes with the dog’s head in my lap for comfort while Dr. P sat on a stool nearby to keep me company.

I learned my lesson.  I have never volunteered when assistance is needed in the vet clinic since then. This story still surfaces occasionally in the vet clinic.  Somehow it's legendary....

shake. my. head.