Spending the afternoon with the LAM (lab animal medicine) people has made me appreciate my job more. Tito, (pronounced Titto... I think her real name is Shirley... I don't get it, either) the senior veterinarian for the lab, was helping me do a blood draw on all eight of the nicotine bunnies.
In between wrangling bunnies and taking samples, she asks me how I'm liking the job. I shrug. "Powering through it".
When Tito was my age, and had just graduated from Baylor, she'd applied for my job in the cardio-phys department. She told me that when she walked in for her interview, the first thing she saw was a freshly removed dog heart on one table, and a dog in a sling being prepped for surgery on the other. Promptly she told them "I can't do this", turned around, and walked out the door.
On my first day, I had to scrub up and assist with a fourth ventricular catheterization (open brain surgery). Tito laughed at that. "Yeah I remember. I can't believe you didn't pass out."
That made me feel better, like I'm not such a pussy for feeling wierd about this job. She also told me that there is a lot of misinformation about animal research, especially among activists- and afterk nowing what I know now, and hearing the things I've heard, I have to agree with her. She handles the rabbits with the grace and accuracy of a doctor with a patient. "I don't know what they mean by animal 'rights'," she said with a shrug. "All I care about is animal well-being." I like Tito. As a veterinarian, and not a researcher, she is compassionate and admits that the Investigators don't really know the first thing about animal care.
Herman, the lab animal tech (he has my job, only he takes care of the animals all the time) came in to help out. "Where's Dr. Carroll?" he asks, and Tito laughs and says "Oh, you know she never comes down here to mingle with the common people."
This brings me some relief too, since all the criticism she has for me, while partly my fault, is mostly her generally bad attitude.
One of the bunnies did the craziest thing during her blood draw. We loosened the neck brace on the restrainer and she totally leapt out and into Tito's arms, and then FLEW over the cart and onto the ground. I saw her disappear over the cart, and panicked, thinking she'd break like china, but she was fine. Herman on the other hand was crouched with his arms over his head (those claws are SHARP and we all know it). This happened a few times with this bunny.... it was amazing. She leapt out once more when we started to insert the ear catheter and totally kicked everything off the cart and then, without further provocation, just started SCREEEEEEAAAMING. Yes, bunnies scream, apparently. Like SCREAM. It was ungodly. Tito picked her up and cradled her and she shrieked for a good twenty seconds before we were able to calm her down. Herman turned to the other bunnies and said "Did you guys hear that? Because you're never going to hear that again."
Because how often do bunnies decide they want to shriek.
I just remembered, that before all this while I was waiting for Tito I was hanging out in the bunny room dozing and sitting really still to see if they behaved any differently. There was silence. And then one bunny slammed its hind legs on the bottom of the cage, making a noise like a snare drum. One, closer to the middle, slammed in response near the middle of her cage, producing a deeper noise. All the bunnies would take turns slamming their legs, one after the other, or in synchronicity, or in unison, or solo. It was really amazing (and loud). I wish I had recorded it, it's hard to explain. It was like a drum machine made out of lab bunnies. Any time I moved, they would stop and resume their silence. Except for E34. She grunts constantly like a little pig.
So yeah. Bunnies. Tomorrow is my birthday, and I'm going to New York, and I'm going to see people I love. First thought: I can't wait!... second thought: I have so much shit that I need to do before I leave. Like, fuck.
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