I’m now finding myself furious at the vet. it took nearly 2 years for him to get diagnosed with a low thyroid. all they did was treat the symptoms (btw the treatments were BARELY working) and let him just waste away. it wasn’t until January this year when a vet who was only at the office for that week saw him and got him a diagnosis. and then he was thriving.
come to find out this past week that low thyroid can cause pancreatitis! which the vet didn’t bother to treat! just barely treated the symptoms except pancreatitis is serious and needs to be treated ASAP.
my dog was - mostly - fine a week ago. and now he’s gone. and I know that all these “what if” scenarios do no good. maybe treatment wouldn’t have helped, but none of them even bothered to really try
needless to say as soon as JJ’s contract with this vet is up I’m taking her somewhere else.
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im going through withdrawals and am touch starved bear with me
joel and ellie riding on a motorcycle. joel talking her through everything before they even get on because he has to make sure she’s safe. joel making sure her helmet fits and is on snug. joel putting his own helmet on and pressing the foreheads of their helmets together. snug? snug.
“remember, hold-“
“hold on to you tight, don’t have my helmet too close to yours, and keep my feet… off the ground.”
“Just perch ‘em on the pegs. Don’t touch the wheels.”
“Got it.”
joel kicking the stand up and waiting for ellie to climb behind him. ellie using his shoulders to balance herself and get comfortable.
“You good?”
she settles her hands around his waist and smiles beneath her helmet. “I’m good.”
they ride. joel keeps their speed on the slower side as ellie gets comfortable. he has to remind her once (or twice) don’ hug me too tight with a brief hand over hers as she loosens her grip (joel turned and leaned farther to the side than ellie was expecting). he speeds up after a while, the sleeves of her sweatshirt and the hair sticking out of her helmet blowing every direction
once they’re back home, ellie excitedly hops off when joel says it’s safe to and she whips her helmet off, joel parking the motorcycle beside their house.
her helmet comes off and some of her hair sticks up, joel laughing and smoothing it over. “Have fun?”
“Fuck yeah! You gotta teach me, joel! Can we do a wheelie next time?”
“No, you are not learning,” he says, hand still on her head.
she looks up at him, a clever smirk on her lips. “…so we can do a wheelie next time?”
joel sighs and closes his eyes. He brings his hand to back of her neck and leans over to kiss her hairline before pulling back to look at her. “No.”
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The thing about dance rn for me is that I’m like “I know I should stay home but I rlly want to go to dance” even though I had class/rehearsal last night and have class/rehearsal tomorrow because I want non-company class but it’s still with the assistant artistic director of the company but it’s Different
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Just read a post about how you shouldn’t trust a doctor who rushes you and like, yes I fully understand the frustration, so here’s what you can do to stop yourself being rushed:
-ask for a double appointment
-ask for a triple appointment
-fuck it ask for an hour long appointment if you think it’ll help
-be outright about what you want/need from an appointment. If you need more time to process information, say that. If you need the doctor to write out all information, say that. If you have a complex case/long history, say that!
-list all the reasons why you want to see the doctor/vet that day and please don’t sugar coat it. “Been vomiting” is a ten minute fix. “Been vomiting after every meal for the past two years” is not. It needs a double appointment and possibly a referral too.
Doctors and vets are overworked to fuck and exploited to hell. Help us out a little, please
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love how my mom keeps texting me “call me I miss u” but refuses to actually put in the work required to love me in the way I need to be loved or repair what she destroyed / refused to build in the first place
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