Saving Biskit

I find myself trapped in the most awkward moments, and this one is no exception. Imagine if you will, me in my white scrubs making lunch, my hair neatly pulled back, and all ready to go to my first day of clinicals, like the cute little nursing student that I am not. Then picture a small, white bishon-shitzue eagerly sniffing around for anything that might hit the floor. I start to open my carton of Silk and drop the seal on the floor. Before I can even blink, Biskit lunges for it thinking it’s a peice of food. Instantly, images of expensive operations, his little graveside, all the guilt that comes with killing the family dog comes rushing in. Before I can think twice, I know that I HAVE to stop that seal from going down his throat. Before I know it, I’ve straddled this dog and have my fingers laced around his throat. I squeeze and shake his head up and down and hear myself repeatedly saying “let it go!”. He gives me this look like he’s deciding whether or not he’s going to take me seriously or not, and moves the seal a tad closer to his throat. I respond by squeezing tighter and repeating my message. He gives me the stink eye and opens his mouth and finally lets go. So, this is how I saved my first patient.





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