Prevention

Next Column

Column Archive

Home

About Us

Contact Us

Find Us

About the Doctor

Dr. Jim Randolph

I try not to be a part of the cynical 90s, but some people just keep pulling me in. Frustration abounds in the veterinarian's efforts at preventing disease, or, when it's too late for that, preventing the worsening of disease.

There are times to change your mind, turn around and go back, and there are times to stay the course. Here are some examples of each.

Our receptionist stuck her head in the door of surgery, "Mrs. Hack just called about her dog, Phlegm's, cough again. She said it stopped the other day so she cancelled her appointment, but it's back again, and she wants to come in."

A good example of a time to stay the course.

The first course.

"Phlegm has `only' been coughing for two weeks. If she'd kept the first appointment she could have saved Phlegm a week of misery and herself several sleepless nights!"

A DIFFERENT TALE

A few weeks ago I got a phone call. Not unusual for a doctor's office. I recognized the lady's name; she was the mother of a Florida veterinarian I know. "My cat won't close her mouth," Mother cried, "can you see her?"

How could I say no to the weeping mother of a colleague?

She arrived to a busy waiting room as I tended to two other emergencies. I assured her I'd get to her as soon as these two emergencies were under control.

One of the emergency patients belonged to a longtime client. Her friend from out of town waited in the waiting room.

With the cat who wouldn't/couldn't close her mouth.

About 10 minutes later the friend stuck her head through the exam room door. "The lady with the cat...the veterinarian's mother...she left. Her cat's flea collar was stuck in her mouth. We got it out."

"Tell your friend she owes me for beating me to an easy diagnosis," I laughed.

A example of a good opportunity to abandon the course with no consequences.

ON THE OTHER HAND...

Just last night two men walked in at closing time with a Boston Terrier. I didn't recognize either of them or the pet. "He just had a spell and his tongue turned blue," one of them said. I reassured them that as soon as I finished the emergency I was working on I'd get to them next (yes, that is often the way it is at closing time).

I was putting together some medications for the patient in the exam room when I overheard, "Y'know, he looks fine now, maybe we should just go back home."

"Not smart," I was thinking to myself when I next looked out into an empty waiting room. Granted, I was going to get home to spaghetti considerably earlier, but one has to feel for the little Boston. After all, turning blue is a serious thing. It's likely to recur, and how many "turning blues" are we allowed in the course of one life? Sometimes only one, and he'd had his!

A heart problem, a lung problem, a brain problem, a blood problem? Could've been any of those, but treating a "pink" patient to prevent the next episode of turning blue is a lot safer course than waiting for the next emergency event and trying to revive a patient in crisis.

How many times have veterinarians repeated the phrase, "Prevention doesn't cost...it pays." How many more times must we repeat it?


Next Column