Friday, November 12, 2010

Pet Clinics: The Un-Happiest Place on Earth.

  This Sunday morning began abruptly at 5 AM where I jolted out of my bed as my step dad yelled my name from downstairs. At first thinking the man was insane, my thoughts turned for the worst when he held out in his arms, our 3 month-old Morkie puppy. Joy Cee looked lifeless and then I knew she was experiencing another episode of hypoglycemia, a case of low-blood sugar. At the moment, she was in shock and laid limp in my step dad's arms. I grabbed the car keys and flew on the freeway with Joy Cee, bundled in my lap, as we headed towards the "Emergency Pet Clinic of San Gabriel Valley" in El Monte. Once I arrived, I rushed her into the clinic and the nurses took her in stat! While waiting to here from her health's progress, several more patients and their owners filed in through the door. There was not one happy face in the room, and smiles were replaced with tears and grimaces.  Stories of their pets' accounts filled the room: a Maltese puppy suffering from a coyote's bite to the family's "furry best friend" vomiting every 2 minutes. My situation was bad enough already, but hearing these people's reasons for the visit to the Pet Clinic just added to my worries and depression. The doctor met with me, eventually, and diagnosed Joy Cee with hypoglycemia and gave me a "list" of how to prevent it again. After coming back to pick my puppy up from the clinic this afternoon, there was another owner exchanging her woes and tearful statements with the nurse in the front room. This woman was in pieces, I mean, crying to the point where she had sunglasses covering her swelled up eyes, and negotiating with the nurse that $5,000 is nothing when it comes to her pet's life. I understood where she was coming from; I've been down that road before where you'd do anything to save your furry friend's life. When I left with Joy Cee, I spoke with the crying woman and wished her pet the best. She gushed out her "thank you's" before going into the operating room. Wow. My mom had came out of the hospital recently in turn for my dog to go in this week. As, you can see, this is not the life that every 18 year-old girl usually goes through. However, I could do without the drama; thank you very much.

Reviews of the Pet ER who helped Joy Cee out:

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