Life on the Wild Side
A new grad trying to figure out life after school. |
You can hear the carts from miles away--the squeaking wheels that have never seen an ounce of grease, metal handles scraping on metal holders. As the two carts get closer, you can hear them. Their pitiful voices rise up above the screeching. They are the Burn Victims. Four plastic blue carriers rest on each cart. Five humans, dressed in their hospital scrubs, perch in the hallway, surrounding the carts, ready to spring into action when called upon. Solemn faces with eager eyes, each human takes one or two cats. Their voices, not more than a whisper, communicate details of their plans. We are the Burn Team. We maneuver the carts to a special room, prepared solely for this purpose. A window in the thick wooden door reveals a constant stream of people, a reminder that the world outside the room is moving by. Inside, the silence is palpable, penetrated only by occasional soft mews. It’s as though no one wants to raise their voice above a whisper, no one wants to disturb the victims. Four stations are set up, consisting of a metal table, blankets and towels, gauze, cotton padding, and multi-colored bandaging material. This is the Burn Unit. I reach into a carrier and pull out a fluffy grey cat. I place him on the table. The smell of smoke permeates his fur and wafts through the air. as pieces of ash float onto the pristine white towel. He curls up, terrified of the new environment. Working as a team, we start to examine him. His fur is scorched and missing on parts of his belly. The whiskers are approximately ⅓ their original length, curled at the tips. His ears resemble elephant’s skin--thick, leathery, and hairless. The most striking finding is the paws. All four paw pads had sloughed off, leaving a red, oozing emptiness in their place. What he experienced--slinking through the burning underbrush to try to escape the flames--is something too horrible to imagine. And yet, he is one of the lucky ones. This is a Burn Victim. There is no “best method” to heal a burn. Over the course of the two weeks the burn cats were in our care, I worked with multiple doctors to clean and bandage the cat’s paws. Some days we would use Manuka honey, others we would use silver sulfadiazine cream. Each paw on each cat was meticulously tended to--unwrapped, cleaned, soaked, rewrapped--some as often as once or even twice daily. We came in on days off, stayed later, and woke up earlier. We are the Burn Team. The cats had a separate ward in the hospital. At any given time, you could walk in and see them sleeping in fluffy beds, purring for attention, or eagerly trying to remove their foot bandages. They weren’t all thrilled to be there, as most cats don’t appreciate staying in the hospital. We liked to think they at least appreciated their cat “suite”, but then again, we all know how cats are. This is the Burn Ward. As time passed, the cats healed, the burn unit was converted back to an exam room, the burn ward returned to normal patients, and the burn team carried on with their veterinary paths. To this day, the burned smell of the cats, and their sad meowing bring back vivid memories of helping them. You always see the heroes fighting the heat of the fire on the news, but behind the scenes, unsung heroes fight for those who survive. As both of my homes, northern and southern California, fight raging fires that ravage through communities and farmland, I am especially reminded that you never expect to be hit with natural disasters, but they are occurring more frequently these days. I am proud to be part of such a selfless community of veterinarians who donate their time and resources day in and day out to save lives. This is Veterinary Medicine. If you'd like to help with these cats care and other animals affected by the fires, please donate here: https://give.ucdavis.edu/go/firecare
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AuthorKatie is rotating intern at Atlantic Veterinary College in Canada. She graduated from veterinary school at UC Davis in 2018. Archives
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