Saturday, January 29, 2011

More Stories of the Disgusting, Mutated, and Absurd

Nothing makes the veterinary career more interesting than observing cases of the disgusting, mutated, and absurd. Case in point...We had a calf at my family's dairy that was not passing manure and spiked a fever at 3 days of age. By 5 days of age, the calf died after an aggressive treatment regimen. I had to cut her open because I was suspicious of an atresia coli (the lower plumbing was not connected) which would explain the lack of feces. However, I needed an explanation for the fever. The calf was definitely an astresia case, and unfortunately the poor heifer had a perforation at the ileal-cecal junction, which explains the fever from peritonitis. The distension from the atresia, poor perfusion and stress which lead to ulcers, likely caused the perforation.




I was in the middle of a C-section, helping a colleague deliver a calf that was a legitimate 3 weeks overdue, a truly gargantuan calf weighing-in at almost 180 pounds; A fetal-maternal mismatch of epic proportions. I happened to be on call. Just when we finally had the calf in position to cut out of the uterus, another call came in, another mad calving. Great. Plus, it was hot and humid and I was hungry, thirsty, and I had a 45 minute drive ahead. Time to put the windows down, and listen to some music.

When I reached the farm and reached to the cow, I quickly came to the conclusion, that another c-section was in order. She was only dilated 6 inches and the calf was coming rear-end first. However, the presentation was more unusual. The calf was a true breech position with rear end coming first and rear legs forward. But, the tail was nowhere to be found and the rear legs were skinny, curved and intertwined with each other. This calf was going to be visually interesting. Time for another C-section. Being hot and humid, I was greatly concerned that the cow's chances of surviving the surgery were low, but we had to try something. When we finally delivered the calf from the cow's lower caudal left side, the calf lived up to expectations.

The calf was stillborn and clearly missing the tail, a congenital anomaly known as coccygeal agenesis. The rear legs were significantly skinny and curved, like they originally palpated. Interestingly, the lumbar vertebrae were also missing. We had to take some photos. And after a hot, tiring evening, my client's wife sent me home with an extremely tasty, rich chocolate milkshake. The treat definitely hit the spot. And to truly cap off the case, the cow survived and is currently completing her lactation.

I love congenital anomalies, especially when the calf is alive. Meet the bovine version of "Shrek." This calf presented with "Shrek" ears, having a congenital anomaly called microtia, in which a small portion of the auricle is still present. Except for the deformity, the calf was healthy and happy.


In the next case, the cow was not very happy or healthy. She had a displaced abomasum, commonly known as a "twisted stomach," for the second time. Judging by the incision, your's truly performed the previous surgery. I take a lot of pride in my work, so my ego took a significant hit, when I had to re-cut this cow a year later. After entering the abdomen and re-positioning the abomasum, I quickly realized a problem. She had a grapefruit sized mass at the end of the abomasum, about 4 inches caudal to the pylorus. Clearly, this mass was not benefiting the cow, so I ripped it out.

The mass looks like a heart. But I could not leave without cutting the mass open.


Oh dear. My ego took another hit. You are not looking at cream cheese, or blue cheese dressing. The mass happened to be an abscess, and the white, creamy ooze happens to be pus. I guess I should have been a little cleaner. Unfortunately, the environments we work in are not sterile. Even though we strive for complete sterility, we can none the less expect an imperfect environment. The cow recovered quickly post-surgery and I recently rechecked her pregnancy.

I have to conclude with an ode to my truck. In November 2004, my 2004 Chevy Silverado 2500HD entered my life after a tortuous relationship with a Toyota Tundra. This truck has taken me everywhere, through torrential downpours to the "Call the National Guard out!" epic blizzards. The Large Animal Veterinarians truck is truly the office, lunchroom, and conference room. Two weeks ago, she finally made it over 200,000 miles in the rural Pennsylvania town, Roxbury.


The truck and I have more miles to tread, memories to make, cows to save, and stories to tell. I looking forward to another 200,000 miles!





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