All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy All work and no play makes Jack a…
After a summer of EMS, traveling and very little academic work, the time finally came for me to come back down to earth.
Having been back in Glasgow for about a month now, I think I’ve just about settled into the second-year routine. After a week of scavenging freebies and signing up to every club under the sun at the fresher’s fayres, I managed to just about fit in everything that I want to do this year around vet school.
During the day, we’re back to lectures and practicals on everything from farm animal nutrition to parasitology, respiratory system anatomy to learning where to put ECG electrodes on a dog.
I have to say that, so far, second year has been more interesting than first year was. Whether this is because of the course content, a different outlook on my part, or simply the fact that I now know the drill, I couldn’t say. But I certainly seem to have gained more passion for the subjects we’re studying at the minute.
Glasgow University Guardian
But it’s not all about studying. This year, I’ve taken on a lot more outside of vet school than I did before. Having this time made it on to the university riding team, I have training every week with my teammates at the local stables, and also hope to start doing a bit of polo. I’ve also gotten involved with Glasgow University Guardian, the student newspaper, in order to do some writing and editing, as well as to learn what goes on behind the scenes when producing a publication.
Every Easter, Glasgow vet school hosts a big charity event called the Rodeo, and it is the responsibility of the second years (with some acquired help from the freshers) to organise it. A group of my friends and classmates have formed this year’s committee, with me taking on the role of secretary and helping out with advertising the event. Hopefully it won’t be too stressful and we will work together to pull off the best Rodeo so far!
So it looks like I’m in for a busy year, but it should make being a vet student all the more exciting.
As mentioned in a recent post, I spent this summer in South America. This involved a couple of weeks in Peru and six weeks in Bolivia, volunteering for the charity Inti Wara Yassi, which runs three animal sanctuaries.
Jordan and Carlos
During my time there, I was allocated a puma to walk every day, as well as being given other responsibilities looking after the “house animals”. This involved preparing food and cleaning of enclosures for the birds in the aviary, chanchos (pigs), tapirs and tejons (coatimundi).
It was also important to provide different forms of enrichment to each of these animals, tailored to their specific needs. I also participated in some essential construction work, such as building a new puma management cage and contributing to a set of monkey enclosures.
Accepting the extraordinary
To begin with, it was surreal to be living in the jungle and working so closely with such potentially dangerous animals. But before long, sleeping beneath mosquito nets, eating dinner (usually rice) at a candlelit table and having only a deck of cards and each other’s company for entertainment became the norm.
There was no electricity at the animal parks and only cold showers, which were surprising refreshing after the heat and humidity of the day.
Every day was a constant battle against mosquitos and we had to make the compromise between wearing enough layers to minimise being bitten and not overheating in the tropical environment. But we soon got used to the lifestyle.
Caring for Carlos
The daily commute to my puma, Carlos, involved a 15 minute walk through a waist-high swamp. I learned to love the swamp and accepted it as part of my daily routine, in addition to caring for and walking Carlos. Building a bond with him was incredibly rewarding and unlike anything I’d ever done before. I learnt so much from him and the other volunteers who were caring for different cats.
Jordan and the team of volunteers at Inti Wara Yassi.
Although my time with Carlos counted as pre-clinical EMS, there was a vet on site, which allowed me to understand the minimal equipment and sheer lack of resources available to the animals in developing countries such as Bolivia.
Before experiencing it first hand, I would never have understood the problems these animals face and the struggle to resolve them, mainly due to lack of funds.
Life-changing experience
I had mixed feelings about coming home. I loved every minute of my time away – I’d made some great friends and had adjusted to living with utter basics – but it was strange to be suddenly immersed in the media-obsessed world once more.
Even small things like flushing toilets were a novelty at first. Crossing roads in the UK seemed unnatural when I’d gotten used to everything being the opposite way around. But slowly, I think I’m getting back into the swing of university life again.
Going to South America really was life-changing, in more ways than I could have imagined. It opened my eyes to a different way of life and allowed me to appreciate so much that we take for granted in day to day life.
The experience truly reminded me why I want to be a vet. I hope that one day I can use my skills and knowledge to make a difference, and help people in developing countries care for their animals.
Gallstones are rare in dogs. They consist mostly of calcium bilirubinate and/or cholesterol, and are therefore usually radiolucent.
Gallstones may enter the common bile duct and occlude it to cause extrahepatic and bile duct rupture. The signs are usually those of extrahepatic cholestasis from obstruction of the common bile duct.
Sometimes more acute signs of epigastric pain and vomiting are evident. Occasionally, secondary cholangitis or cholecystitis results in perforation. Gallstones are, however, often asymptomatic.
Gallstones are best diagnosed by ultrasonography and, if clinically significant, should be removed surgically rather than dissolved medically.
Over the summer, I spent six weeks volunteering for Inti Wara Yassi in Bolivia. The charity was set up in 1992 and now runs three animal sanctuaries throughout this South American country.
Comunidad Inti Wara Yassi
The park at which I spent most of my time was Ambue Ari, which is home to over 20 large cats, two species of monkey and a few other exotic species such as tapirs, tejons and many different birds. It was an incredible experience and I would definitely urge other vet students or even qualified vets to get involved in projects like this.
A day in the life of a cat volunteer
Wading through a waist high swamp, being mauled by a swarm of mosquitos, I think to myself, “What an earth am I doing here?” But after 15 minutes and a short trek through the jungle, Carlos’ cage comes into view and I remember exactly why. I shout “Hola Carlos” and we meow back and forth to each other until I reach the cage. He brushes up against the metal wire, wanting attention. I stroke him through the cage for a couple of minutes before calling “Vamos!” and making my way to the doors – working with Carlos gives me a chance to practise my (very limited) Spanish.
While I’m making my way around, he races through his cage with excitement before stopping to wait patiently at the door. I unlock the cage and attach a rope to my waistband before entering the second door to get to him. He paces, rubbing up against my legs before sitting and licking my hands. I clip him onto the other end of the rope and open the doors. He tugs at the rope to begin with, leading me along the trail that he wants to do today.
Walking a puma… as you do!
I watch out for his every move, prepared to burst into a sprint when he leaps over a log or to unclip his rope when he ducks under a branch to low for me to follow him. He tries to stalk something in the bushes. I can’t see what it is, so I stop him pouncing – trying to strike a balance between letting him be a puma and keeping him from unseen dangers such as snakes.
As the day heats up, he stops to lie down and sleep a while. This is when my war against the mozzies really starts. Sitting still, I have little choice but to watch their ceaseless assaults on my skin, despite my sweating under numerous layers of clothing.
After a time, Carlos appears to have rested enough and continue on his trail. The rough ground and natural obstacles result in the rope getting caught between his back legs. “Step over your rope,” I call out (apparently pumas are bilingual) and, after a couple of attempts, he’s free to walk normally again. I congratulate him: “Muy bien”.
After a few hours of walking, we return to the cage and he utters a deep purr, craving more attention before I say goodbye. I give him a few minutes of fuss before looping his rope around a nearby tree and entering his cage to clean his feeding platform and sleeping area. Leaving his meat on the platform, I return to him, careful to watch for signs that he might pounce while I unclip his rope from the tree. When I do, he tugs towards the cage and we both go through the first of the double doors. I unclip him from the rope and open the second door. He runs towards the platform, leaps onto it, grabs the meat in his jaws and darts into the bushes to eat in peace.
Turning away, I lock the cage behind me and start the return journey through the swamp, not forgetting to call out “Chao” as I leave.
When I received yet another EMS email that had been sent to the whole vet school, I almost deleted it out of habit, but something stopped me. A word caught my eye: Bolivia.
I had always wanted to go to South America – would this be my chance to tick something off the bucket list as well as get in a few weeks of EMS?
After a few days of mulling it over, I decided to fill out the online application – I could always change my mind, and I might not even get selected anyway – but the next day, I received an email inviting me to take part in a Skype interview. Shortly afterwards, I was offered a place on the project, so I decided to bite the bullet and say yes.
The project I will be volunteering on runs a wildlife sanctuary that houses various types of monkeys and birds as well as jaguars and pumas. Many of the animals are rescued from the fur and pet trades. While re-release back into the wild is difficult (especially for the big cats, due to local laws), the animals are given a much better life in the sanctuary than the alternative.
As well as handling and work with the animals, the students on the project will help construct new animal enclosures. The project itself lasts for six weeks, but I will be then going on to Peru for a two-week expedition afterwards.
Before going abroad, I’ve had to organise vaccinations against hepatitis, typhoid, yellow fever and rabies. I’ve also had to obtain malaria tablets to take while I’m out there. As for equipment, I haven’t had to buy too many “specialist” things as such – just a big rucksack, old clothes and the odd thing like water purification tablets and rehydration sachets.
With less than a week to go, I’m starting to get excited but still in shock that it’s actually happening. And I really need to start packing!
I’ll let you know how it was when I return to the UK in two months!
Alanine transferase (ALT) is a specific indicator of hepatocellular injury in dogs and cats. Increases occur due to cell damage and induction.
ALT is virtually liver specific in dogs and cats. Causes include:
Artefact – haemolysis
Drugs – anticonvulsants, steroids, any drugs causing hepatotoxicity
Disease – liver: both primary and secondary hepatic disease can increase ALT if altered cell membrane permeability or necrosis occur. Bile duct obstruction will increase ALT.
Glipizide is an oral blood glucose lowering drug in the sulphonylurea class. It acts by causing the beta cells in the pancreas to release insulin, and may also increase sensitivity to insulin.
A structural diagram of glipizide.
Glipizide is used to treat type II diabetes in cats along with diet, exercise and insulin therapy if necessary. It is highly effective when combined with a low carbohydrate diet.
The most common side effects reported are vomiting, diarrhoea and hypoglycaemia.
Glipizide is safe and well-tolerated by most cats, and can avoid the use of insulin altogether. However, it should not be used in cats with liver or kidney disease, as this can result in pronounced hypoglycaemia.
Having received my results for the professional exams, I can finally say that I’ve finished my first year at vet school!
Being brutally honest, the first term was a bit of a culture shock. I had focused so much on getting into vet school and being a vet that I didn’t really think about what it would be like when I actually got there.
Coming from a town on the edge of the countryside in the heart of England and moving to Glasgow was quite a change. Although the vet school is on the edge of the city in a fairly green area, it wasn’t the same as being able to cycle 10 miles on quiet country roads to the farm where my horses are kept.
I think what I found the hardest was not being able to ride. I had gone from riding my horse every day to having a lesson with the uni riding club once a week. Owning a horse is a lifestyle, and not something I wanted to give up.
While the first term was largely spent getting used to the mountainous workload, I managed to squeeze other things into my time. Many of my friends from home went to uni a year earlier than me and have told me that Fresher’s Week is the craziest uni experience. But none of them are vets, and they don’t know what AVS Sports weekend is (an annual event hosted by the Association of Veterinary Students). This year, it was held in Glasgow, so we didn’t do any traveling, but certainly experienced the madness of meeting people from every other vet school, who came in all shapes and sizes – penguins, mimes, power rangers and more.
Another annual inter-vet-school event for us is Dick Day, where Glasgow competes against Edinburgh – The Royal (Dick) School of Veterinary Studies – in various team sports. Again, this year, it was held in Glasgow. Unlike AVS, the sport on Dick Day is serious and there was a strong sense of rivalry between the schools. I was part of the vet hockey team, but unfortunately we did not defeat the Dick vets in our match.
After battling through a long term of learning at a hundred times the rate we were used to and facing the stress of the class exams, I started the second term knowing better what to expect. I threw myself into getting fit for Easter by swimming, cycling and gyming. I also took up a weekly creative writing class that was put on by the Glasgow uni English department, to rekindle my love of writing.
At Easter, I had my first taste of EMS in the form of my first time lambing. The placement was great – we got loads of hands-on experience and got involved in all aspects of lambing time. We learnt loads, and everything from those seemingly endless sheep lectures started to sink in. Although tiring, we enjoyed every bit of it.
I also spent a week in Norway doing a charity dog sledding challenge to raise money for the Warwickshire and Northamptonshire Air Ambulance, who saved my life when I had a serious riding accident two years previously. My family and I had spent a year raising money by doing bucket collections, making Christmas decorations, selling Valentines Day cupcakes, and selling bedding plants. The challenge was fantastic – I loved working with the dogs and getting to see the beautiful Arctic landscape.
However, the day after I landed back in the UK, I was driving back to Glasgow to face revision and the end of year professional exams. I especially began to feel the pressure, because I had arranged to be abroad during the summer when resits would be scheduled (not a wise move, and not something I’d recommend).
We had exams in five subjects: anatomy, physiology, biomolecular sciences, animal husbandry and veterinary professional and clinical skills (VPCS). While I felt most of them went OK, I was almost certain I’d mucked up VPCS after the first day of practicals, having gotten flustered and putting sharps in the wrong bin (we make such idiots out of ourselves when we’re nervous).
During the first month of the summer holidays (while avoiding thinking about the inevitable doom that results would bring), I did some dairy EMS. I’d never been on a dairy farm before and found the experience extremely useful in improving handling skills and my understanding of the dairy industry. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I’d retained from the two cattle lectures we’d had so far.
Without warning, our results started to trickle in, one subject at a time… and so began the momentary relief after receiving one and then the rising anticipation for the next one. Finally, the last one came in, and by some miracle (or so it felt), I had passed all of them! All that worrying about being away for resits was extinguished, and now I could get on with preparing for the next set of EMS I had planned… six weeks in Bolivia in a wildlife sanctuary.
And so I have passed first year. It’s been hard work and no doubt second year will be harder, but vet school hasn’t defeated me yet!
Robots mean that dairy farmers’ working hours are much better – no early morning or late night milking.
When I organised to do some dairy EMS, the farmer told me he doesn’t work at “ridiculously early hours” because he has milking robots. It sounded incredibly sci-fi and I didn’t really know what to expect, but when he first showed me around the farm and explained how they work, I was extremely impressed.
The robot recognises each individual by an electronic tag, which is strapped around one leg and also acts as a pedometer. Everything is completely automated – there isn’t even any need for manual attachment of the cows teats; the robots not only have built in lasers which are used to locate them, but also remember the rough position of them for each cow. The robots are programmed to milk the desired amount for each cow. The cows are free to come to the robots for milking whenever they want, but if they return too soon to be milked again, the robot will allow them to pass through without being milked.
The robots dramatically reduce the incidence of mastitis, since the clusters are much more hygienic for the cows than those in a parlour. They’re automatically washed in between each cow, in addition to the teats themselves being cleaned both before and after milking. The number of foot problems is reduced since there is no queueing to get into a parlour. There is less strain on the udder because the cows are not limited to specific times for milking. Milking is also much more efficient, since each quarter of the udder is treated individually, so no teat is under or over-milked.
When a cow calves, the robot is programmed to begin milking her, in small amounts to start with. For the first couple of milkings, the robot sends the milk to a separate tank, so the colostrum can be given to the newborn calf.
Lots of data is provided by the robot. The pedometer gives a minute-by-minute recording of activity level, which can be used to see when the cow is bulling, and so indicates when to AI the cow. The robot itself also conducts a basic analysis of the milk produced by each cow, which gives an immediate indication of quality and can provide an early warning for conditions such as mastitis, even before clinical signs appear.
Will there be a major shift towards robotic milking in the future?
There’s also obvious advantages for the farmer. Working hours are much better – no early morning or late night milking. Such a decrease in the labour needs means that there’s much money to be saved that would be spent employing staff.
However, all of this comes at a cost. The big question is whether the huge initial cost for a robot outweighs the time and money they save the farmer. The robots are computerised so a steep learning curve would need to be undertaken to get used to the technology, which isn’t something that all farmers would be prepared to do.
Of course, the sceptics will also be asking “what if it goes wrong?” After all, computers aren’t flawless.
The farmer I’ve been working with has two robots, and says that they do have occasional faults, but he always has the second one as a back up to be used while the other is being repaired. The technicians are on call 24/7, so the robots usually get fixed quickly. He said that, only once, both robots went down due to a fault with the computer system. It was brief, but while the repair was going on, the old milking parlour was used.
The milking robot is certainly a very clever piece of kit. Robots have slowly become more popular over the last few years as the machinery has become more reliable. But will there be a major shift towards robotic milking in the future? Will the younger generations of farmers be more inclined to use robots in order to maintain a lifestyle with better working hours? I think that robots are the next step in the evolution of dairy farming, but it’s impossible to tell how long it’ll take for them to be used by the vast majority.
There are three basic causes for diabetes insipidus (DI): a defect in antidiuretic hormone (ADH); a defect in the kidney’s response to ADH; or psychogenic polydipsia.
The diagnosis of DI can be challenging. Tests include:
blood and urine tests – complete panels to rule out diabetes mellitus, kidney and liver disease
a water deprivation test and/or a modified water deprivation test to determine if the symptoms are caused by psychogenic polydipsia, a defect in ADH, or a defect in the kidney’s response to ADH (the animal must be properly hydrated, hospitalised, and screened for kidney disease prior to doing a water deprivation test)
