04/19/2022
Melancholy DVM Dis-ease Recovery Recipe
Not quite sure why I have been melancholy on my day off.
Maybe it's the deep sadness we felt several weeks ago when a kitten died on the surgery table moments after I spayed her and the twisted relief I felt when the pathology report came back cardiomyopathy. The beautiful, sweet kitten was still dead, of course, but I could put the metaphorical bat down and quit beating myself with quite so much vigor.
Maybe it’s the gentle-faced, breathing-distressed, 13-year-old lab mix that didn’t have lung and liver cancer as the radiologist suspected, but rather had fluid in the abdomen as a result of his literally big ol’ heart. I could have bought that old fellow some time with an abdominal tap to confirm my suspicions and some furosemide, but the owners thought it was time to say goodbye. I could have persuaded them otherwise with a well-placed word, but I honestly didn’t know. Plus it is so important for me to shut up after I give options, to let the pet parent (a term I used to despise, but have come to relate to and even resemble) decide and own that decision.
Negativity bias and imposter syndrome kick in and grow with self-flagellation. My melancholy and angst are triggered by a thousand memories and resultant to-do list entries to save me from the god-awful anticipated recurrent guilt.
Today I found the recipe to calm some of the symptoms of this chronically recurring dis-ease.
Fresh veggies:
Baby portobello mushrooms, the most fun of the fungi,
Onion, to stimulate tears providing saltiness,
Carrots and orange pepper to brighten your day with sunshine,
Potatoes to absorb strong flavors and emotions,
And celery for crunch time.
Fresh meats:
Rotisserie chicken left over from my wife’s chicken and noodles that she made for her folks yesterday, whom she’s “visiting” today, 2-hours away, doing their laundry plus many other chores, and praying they’ll be able to maintain the occupancy of the home her dad was born in 92 years ago.
Smoked brisket left over from our family’s Easter celebration, made by my son who has been bar-b-cuing professionally for over a decade, but can’t accurately be called a pit master because he “doesn’t work over an open pit anymore, just smokers.” Still I like the pit master title better than “smoker” although frankly, he does get a tremendous relief and joy from the g***a, a trait he likely inherited from me, but which, like-it-or-not, I have refrained from for the last 3 decades, mostly because it ended up triggering paranoia, dang it. For me it just doesn’t work, but the smoked brisket, my goodness, it is perfection to the palate.
Frozen veggie:
Cilantro gathered from the monstrously momentous wedding reception thrown last summer, a year to the day after I performed the ceremony for my son, his new beautifully saucy wife, and a really small group of family and friends due to covid.
Frozen meats:
Shrimp left over from New Year’s Day.
Ham left over from Thanksgiving.
I strive to make something soulful, serene, spicy, and special out of whatever is left over when I make soup.
You see, in my job, I can help pets thrive and more comfortably die and help their people through some of the most joyful and painful of their days. I get to attend to them. It requires a tremendous emotional capability to willingly experience these events, be fully present, and resilience to recover from the staggering swings.
I am so blessed I have this day off to let my emotions and my soup percolate, replenish, and nourish my soul.
I’m sharing this recipe with you, fellow practicing DVMs, in case you want to repeat it. Good luck in that quest. You’ll need everything you have, fresh and frozen, to repair and prepare.
Tomorrow will be here so soon. So soon.
