Worn Down

There are some days that I tire of my job.

     Don't get me wrong -- I love my job. I love getting to play with dogs and cats each day. I love getting paid to do so. It is always a great joy to meet the owners in our practice and get to know them and their pets. It is so fulfilling to know that we are able to help them live happy and healthy lives. There are days, however, that almost nothing good happens.

     Euthanasias have always been a bitter sweet thing. It is wonderful that we are able to help end a patient's suffering, but there is always a great lose for those who are left behind. Our job is to take care of the pets and offer understanding and consoling words to the owners. I've always understood this. I've always known that what we do is for the comfort of the pet. Despite this, there are still days where the sad things build up on your shoulders and ride home with you.

     Today was one of those days. We had two separate Euthanasias; each one was heart wrenching in its own way. I cannot get into too much detail, but I definitely carried them home with me. I feel that even though we did everything we could in both situations, it just wasn't enough. We left one owner distraught and alone, and the other frustrated and unsatisfied. On top of the emotional stress was the physical pain of working an eight hour shift on an injured knee. I'm not sure how I injured it, but that's unimportant now.

     The whole day left me drained and in desperate need for a break. Unfortunately, I cannot have one yet. I'll return to work early tomorrow morning ready for more disasters or miracles. Perhaps tomorrow will be good enough to make up for today. That's the good thing about tomorrows, I suppose. They are a chance for everything good that you are waiting for.