Caribbean Roadkill

So the other morning, we were minding our business eating our Egg & Cheese bagels (morning ritual) outside of the Shak Shak when there erupted quite a ruckus! The ladies who run the Shak Shak were screeching and stumbling over each other behind the counter, and it appeared there was something on the ground causing all the craziness. We mainlanders shrugged our shoulders, assuming there was a roach or a perhaps a centipede - maybe even a little mouse. Never did we guess there was this:

For those of you of my generation, kinda looks like the Prodigy CD cover...

I think this was his "angry" face....

Seems this guy wandered up the cliff, found his way across the little parking area, through the patio seating area and into the Shak Shak over the weekend. I think he went out partying on Friday night and got lost on the way home. At some point in his life he lost a claw, perhaps while on a past drinking binge. It amazing, also, because the Shak Shak has one door in, with a fairly narrow slit at the bottom, and it's tucked under a stair case so there really is no visible way this large guy could get in!
One of the nearby workers caught our one-clawed friend and set him free at the top of the cliff. Sadly, a few days later we found the remains of his subsequent return to the Shak Shak for another party:

Note the one squished claw.

This is what qualifies for Caribbean Roadkill. No possums, coons, or armadillos here!

Scuba Sas!

Tonight was my first scuba lesson. Firstly, to all you vets out there - I have NO other outlet in my life right now so I deserve some scuba time! I don't want to hear any of your stories about "when I was in vet school I had to walk ten miles uphill in snow/rain/sleet just to get to my anatomy lab that was super stinky because the heat was on (the freezer was broken, etc.) and I never got to even think about taking a break to do something fun like SCUBA DIVING!"

We signed up for classes (and paid, mind you) about 2 weeks ago. Since then it has been pulling teeth to get our manuals so we can start on the 'academic' portion of the class (see, it's not all fun). It seems our manuals are on the 'slow' boat, and will take another week to get here. But we will still be starting our pool work on Sunday, manuals or no. I was worried our certification would be delayed unneccessarily!

As Dr. Reich frequently says (and demonstrates physically), let me take a few steps back here. Let's start with the drive down to the scuba shop, which is convieniently located at what seems to be the most 'off the grid' location possible. We were kindly given a ride by another student, who has been on this island for about 4 months and has seemed to loose all sense of driving in that time. He has a seriously low compact car, and with the added weight of three females (who I will kindly say added up to 300+ pounds) his car bottomed out on every single little bump in the road. So basically every....10 feet or so. And not just any bottoming out. I'm talking, scrape your entire undercarriage, lose small parts, and create pretty sparks all over the place. I thought for sure after a few times he would realize that his car could not possibly continue to drive in the manner to which he was accustomed while we three girls were still inside - and yet this continued the entire way there and back.

I knew we were in some trouble when I looked down at the directions and read:

• down the Bay Road through town
• Bay road ends at a T, turn right down the Birdrock road
• past the fancyloaf bakery (which is, by the way, super small and set back far from the road)around the roundabout (yes, it is a roundabout, albeit an invisible one)
• first right
• over curb
• all the way down to the sea

Now I realize that this may seem somewhat logical to you, but when you are navigating from the wrong side of the car and he's driving on the wrong side of the road and it seems like there are road hazards every 5 feet or so...these directions were in Greek to me. Plus, there are no street signs. So no way I would have known where Birdrock Road was...
Anyhow, our trusty driver thankfully knew a bit more about the navigation than I and he got us to our destination more or less intact. Of course, then there's the bit about the curb - which was really and truly a CURB. At the front of the driveway to this hotel/restaurant/dive shop! A curb that we, the 500 pound car, could not go over without losing a vital part of the vehicle. So we walked.

I love that all of the signs here have beer logos on them...I always associate scuba diving and drinking!

Yes, this is the massive 'curb' they wanted us to hurtle over in a little compact car. Hence, my interest in purchasing a Jeep.

The dive shop was small, mainly a storage closet for dive gear, but they have a pretty sweet boat and the gear all seems in top shape. We were introduced to the gear, instructed about proper safety techniques in handling the air tanks (ie. no dropping them), and shown how to attach all of the hoses/gear to the tank and how to disengage everything post-dive. Aside from my innate fear of 'contents under pressure' (I hesititate to even check the air in my tires by myself!) I felt pretty good about the mechanics of scuba gear when I was done. I did get a bit nervous about how little the amount of gear we would need...I just somehow figured that I would need hundreds of pounds of equiptment to keep me alive so deep in the scary ocean. I hope I can handle the transition from poolwork to ocean...

Kristin and Kristen working on their gear

Look Dad, the gas is on and I still have both hands!

Speaking of pool - the pool at this hotel had barstools in the water. I think places in Florida would be a lot more popular if they just added that little amenity! I was pretty psyched about ordering a drink post-class, until our instructor told us we had to take a swim proficiency test (which the little voice that sits on my shoulder told me we would have to take, but I argued and argued...). That involved doing 10 laps (across and back = one lap) and then treading water for 10 minutes. By the end it was all I could do to make it down the steps without collapsing. I am woefully out of shape.
All in all, a pretty fun experience. I am looking forward to my first real dive...not too deep (55 feet?) but the spot he's taking us to is supposed to be chuck full of fish and turtles and such. He said he even sees nurse sharks (not too exciting, those are all over Florida). I'm hoping to see a Tiger shark!

I promise not to get this close.
(picture taken from National Geographic's website)

I heart Nutrition.

No, silly kids - I'm not changing my diet habits just yet. I just had this fantastic epiphany in class the other morning...

One of the best parts about knowledge and the adventure of aquiring it is that in learning about the world around us we always learn something new about ourselves.

When I was a little girl, climbing trees in an effort to freak my mom out or focusing on boys and dividing fractions - not once did I ever envision to myself saying these three little words:

I Heart Nutrition.

I realize the irony here. Please understand that this does not insinuate that I have had an epiphany that will lead to my consuming massive amounts of roughage and fruits.

Certinaly Not.

What about nutrition do I love, then? The biochemical details, of course. Thus, to rephase my previous statement:

I Heart Nutrition in regards to the Biochemical Nature of Life.

A bit too much for a bumper sticker, thus the earlier simplification.

Even more detailed would be to say that I absolutely love to learn about the micro-processes of our incredibly complex bodies (all animals) that make us who we are...from the detailed process of embryology (one itty bitty cell to a full fledged member of society) to the crazy systems in the body present simply to maintain homeostatsis.

Oh, and according to my nutrition prof the Liver is God. Therefore I welcome you all to have a drink and toast your personal God, the Liver. (trust me, the Liver does more for our bodies than we will ever know - it has a hand in just about all metabolic processes...be kind to it!)

Ack! Mutant Spiders on Steroids!!

One of the things people told me about this island before I got here was that it rained every day, but only for a few minutes. Of course, in that few minutes more rain would fall then during a month in Florida. So of course what does this Floridian do but come prepared with three - yes, three - mini-umbrellas for everyday use. I stashed one in my purse, one in my bookbag, and one will be stashed in my future vehicle when/if it is ever purchased.


Imagine my surprise that for the last three weeks I've seen very little rain. I know it's happened, there are mornings when I walk outside and the air is heavy with humidity and the sidewalks are riddled with puddles. But we have been spared the drenching downpours during school hours (when we are most likely to be caught unawares walking to class).


Today, that pipedream came to a halt. Just before breaking for lunch, a torrential downpour started and almost as suddenly stopped. You might be thinking, how fortuitous! They won't get wet waiting in line for their lunches!


And you'd be half right. We didn't get wet waiting for lunch, however our very tired rear ends got plenty wet sitting on the benches eating said lunches. And the clouds weren't quite done with us yet. Just as we finished eating, the sprinkles starting getting heavier so we took shelter in the nearest enclosed space we could get to - the anatomy changing rooms.

You might say to yourself, why why why?! Well, there are (dry) benches and our desensitized nostrils only detect the strongest stench of formalin, such as that which is emitted from our dogs when someone leans on the check to get a better view. (betcha didn't want to know that, did ya?!)


As we set our stuff down on the benches and prepared to go about chatting away about anatomy pieces and parts (exam tomorrow!!), my eye was drawn to a movement on the doorframe that just seemed....malicious.


There, crouching in a hostile pose, gripping the doorframe with all of his might, was the biggest spider EVER. And those of you who know me well know that at this point I shrieked loudly and ran across the room (which in this case lead into the bathroom portion of the changing rooms). Unfortunately, the spider happened to be crouching on the doorframe of the only path of egress from the room, and he was following our every movement with his devilish little eyes.


But WAIT - if you aren't totally creeped out yet, let me tell you why this particular animal was truly sent here from hell: it had three legs. Three. As in had eight, lost five, now he has THREE.


So myself and Kristin (who is unfortunately as arachnophobic as I) quickly deduced that either:

A) this spider was very clumsy and kept sitting on the wrong part of the doorframe, thus losing his legs in multiple door slamming incidents. OR

B) this spider was so tough, so mean, so incredibly scrappy that he had obviously won a lot of battles with other animals (humans included) and was still kicking. Literally.


At this point, I pulled out the cell phone in an attempt to call for help (a few of our classmates were sitting just outside, the rain having stopped by now) and found that the entire space had NO SIGNAL. I had to go almost right next to the aforementioned three-legged demon and hold the phone up to the little holes in the walls (a possible entry point for demon-kind) to get a text to send.


Now, I realize that some of you out there are thinking, what the hell? Just swipe the damn thing and be done with it...but you obviously don't know me. There were continued shrieks and jumping around being done by myself (and Kristin, don't let her tell you otherwise) throughout all of this trauma.


Finally, an angel in the form of another first semester student opened the door and inspected our nemesis. She proclaimed him to be a "Donkey Spider", and a baby at that. Then she began to attempt to swipe him away from the doorframe and outside - which he fought tooth and nail (I think those lost legs were battle scars!). We were saved, and were able to make it to anatomy lab on time and with no bodily harm.


In researching this genetic freak, I found out a VERY startling fact: not only are these spiders very prevalent on this island, are prone to come out after large rainfalls, and are willing to appear aggressive if threatened - but they are also HUGE when full-grown!!! And by huge, I mean up to a 3 inch leg span!! ACK! Their true name is Giant Crab Spider, or Huntsman Spider. Donkey Spider is a name that may be attributed to their brown color and slow movement (when not hassled by screaming chicks, of course). Apparently, they are common in Florida (as they like warm tropical areas) and may truly be the root of my extreme arachnophobia as at least three of my last major spider experiences involved super large spiders that looked like these. Feel free to check out the pics/info on this site:


http://creatures.ifas.ufl.edu/urban/spiders/giant_crab_spider.htm


Cristin, who luckily missed this event but was informed of our progress regularly via text message, was able to get some decent shots of the creepy mutant before class. I asked her to write a little blurb explaining her side of the events, however due to the recent rash of exams lately I don't think it will happen anytime soon. So instead, enjoy the pics:

Lesson of the Week #2.

Title: Why we have veterinary technicians.

Prologue: This week in Nutrition we've been learning about how the body responds to hormonal stumulii such as insulin and glucagon.

Details: (in very general terms, for the non-vets out there) The main fuel for all cells of the body is glucose. Two types of cells specifically run on glucose alone, red blood cells (RBCs) and neurons (highly prefer glucose). Neurons are really picky about their fuel source (think Saskia is a neuron and glucose is meat), and being the "generals" of the body they monitor levels 24/7. If the level of blood glucose drops, messages are sent off to the other cells of the body via hormones to reestablish homeostasis (i.e. it's happy place). These cells play a game of 'telelphone', telling each other that the body needs to eat. The body eats, the glucose levels go up, and the neurons are happy.

BUT - what if the glucose levels continue to drop?

The neurons get really really pissy, and they start to rebel. That's when the body starts to convulse, drop into a coma, and eventually die.

Lesson: So what is a veterinarian to do when a convulsing animal comes into the clinic? Get its glucose levels up fast. How? Give it Karo syrup. Who will get that Karo syrup into the convulsing dog's mouth? Why, the technicians, of course!!

(NOTE: to all of my former techincian mates, I in no way thought this story was funny nor did I participate in laughing one bit.)

It was truly an omen...but of good or bad things to come?

On our way out to the anatomy lab Tuesday night, we were distracted by an amazingly bright orange sliver of light emanating from across the ocean in the direction of Nevis. Initial thoughts were that we were seeing some sort of nuclear explosion or supernatural rift in the time-space continuum. Upon further observance, however, we were totally psyched to watch a gorgeous, large, orange, full moon make it's way out of the clouds and crest over the peninsula between St. Kitts and Nevis!

It was incredibly distracting (anything is, really, when you're only alternative is the smell of formalin). We just stood and watched as the moon slowly rose to spread it's light across the ocean.

A welcomed distraction.

Just to the right are the lights of Nevis.

Brighter and brighter as it rose higher and higher.

Gorgeous!!

You could even see the Man on the Moon!

The lights of Nevis. Looks a lot bigger at night...

What is wrong with this picture?

Thought I would share a few of the choice differences between the states and this beautiful island paradise:

Driving on the wrong side of the car/road.

Yes, that's right. Chester Cheetah eating a CHEESEBURGER.

Food flavors that were never meant to occur in nature.

Animals with mutant powers.

(read story about the mutant spider in future blog)

Ouch.

My head is about to explode. Seriously.

I know you all tend to feel I may be a little teensy bit overly melodramatic, but it really can happen:
http://mail.rossvet.edu.kn/exchweb/bin/redir.asp?URL=http://www.mit.edu/~mkgray/head-explode.html

Please take note of this line: Victims are highly intelligent people with great powers of concentration.

Also, this one: ...the doctor urges people to take it easy and not think too hard for long periods of time.

As to the test:

A "yes" answer to any three of the following seven questions could mean that you have HCE:

1. Does your head sometimes ache when you think too hard? (Head pain can indicate overloaded brain circuits.) YES
2. Do you ever hear a faint ringing or humming sound in your ears? (It could be the sound of electricity in the skull cavity.) OCCASIONALLY
3. Do you sometimes find yourself unable to get a thought out of your head? (This is a possible sign of too much electrical activity in the cerebral cortex.) OCCASIONALLY
4. Do you spend more than five hours a day reading, balancing your checkbook, or other thoughtful activity? (A common symptom of HCE is a tendency to over-use the brain.) YES
5. When you get angry or frustrated do you feel pressure in your temples? (Friends of people who died of HCE say the victims often complained of head pressure in times of strong emotion.) OCCASIONALLY
6. Do you ever overeat on ice cream, doughnuts and other sweets? (A craving for sugar is typical of people with too much electrical pressure in the cranium.) YES
7. Do you tend to analyze yourself too much? (HCE sufferers are often introspective, "over-thinking" their lives.) YES

As I said, my head is about to explode. I wonder if I can get a nurse's pass from my anatomy exam for that?

Stairway to Sweatiness.

For those of you who had no faith in my ability to "get into shape", let me talk to you about some stairs.

This campus, while set on a tropical island in the middle of the Caribbean, has some downsides. Specifically, it is built on what can only be termed as a gigantic mountain (some exaggerating is expected in my writing). The elevation is a plus when you consider the fantastic views of the ocean, ships sailing by, and beautiful sunsets you can see from your classroom as your attention starts to wane during another lecture on action potential (a la Fast Times at Ridgemont High). The major con, however, is in the seemingly infinite number of steps leading to anywhere. I swear it's like living in Hogwarts.

To demonstrate this claim, and prove that my exaggerations are always only slight in nature, I have once again proof in the form of photographs. To get from the lower part of campus (lectures halls, Microscope Lab, eateries, etc.) to the higher portion of campus, you must climb three successive sets of stairs. The first brings you to the anatomy lab:

First set of steps. No biggie, right?

Course, if you aren't going to anatomy, there really isn't much else you can do but continue up:

Second set of stairs. At this point your face is glistening in the high noon sun, and you're starting to consider using the handrail despite how dorky you will look.

If you'll notice the yellow line on the ground to the right, that is another set of stairs, only about 6 total in that one, and it leads to the library. If you decide to continue up because you have no interest in quiet library fun, you will be heading towards admin. At the top of the second flight you can turn left and enter the air conditioned goodness of the administration building or one of the various classrooms. You can also hang out with the tortoises in the tortoise enclosure (space between two walkways). Frequently you will see a gaggle of vet students observing the feeding habits of the tortoise. For fun. Because that's what vet dorks do for fun. That and write blogs.

"If I step on the food, then the others won't want to eat it and it'll be all mine, alllll mine!!! HA ha ha ha ha!!

Beat it Lady! We're trying to eat here!!

At this point, you've reached the last set of stairs. Should you not want to mail a card or top up your phone's minutes (admin offices) or catch Salmonella (tortoises), you will be facing the third and final set of stairs. And as you walk toward them you will hear your feet squishing in your shoes and your hair is plastered to your head (who needs hairspray when you have sweat?). As a bonus, you just felt a bead of sweat run down your spine.

Trust me, by this point you're wheezing and saying silent prayers of thanks for the birth and intellect of a man named Otis.

As you crest the top of the final set of stairs, your eyes behold an oasis of yummy goodness in a simmering sea of heat waves. The Student Union. The place where they hold your mail hostage (it feels like when I was in summer camp, even down to the pitying look the mail lady gives you each day as you eagerly request your mail and you have none), the place where you can buy all of those overpriced generic school supplies from the local mafia, and most importantly, the place where you can purchase an iced coffee with vanilla syrup AND a moist chocolaty chewy brownie. All for yourself. Because at this point, after trekking across what basically feels like the Sahara desert with elevations, you will NOT be sharing this brownie with another soul. Good luck to any and all who attempt to share.

I see your fingers sneaking in for the last bite. I'll bite them off. Watch me.

In conclusion, I must add to my discussion above my recent observation that not only are there a gazillion steps on this campus, the steps are also not of any sort of standard measurement. According to Osha's website, stair rises (the height of the step from one to the next) should be between 6.5 and 9.5 inches depending on the angle at which the stairs rise. In this case, the angle is super steep and the rise has got to be double what it should be.

Therefore I predict that at some point in the next two years, I will either: A) completely embarass myself and potentially injure my knees by hitting the front of the next step with my foot and losing my balance or B) losing my balance completely because of the counter-weight called my bookbag shifting and causing me to tumble down a flight of unyielding concrete stairs.

Unfortunately, since I will not be able to prove that the incident does not fall under "sports related injuries" (using the stairmaster is technically a gym exercise, which I think they will argue is a sport), my insurance will not cover my broken limb injuries and I will not be able to hitch a free ride to the states. Instead my ride will cost around a semester's worth of tuition. More than likely I'll just get stuck in the local hospital where they will improperly set my leg, and then when I wake up from the drugs they'll realize that they set the wrong leg (sending some props to Tampa General Hospital there, in case ya'll didn't catch that).

No. 4 really likes her grass.

So we ventured over to the cow pasture today for a look-see on our way back to the dorms. Almost immediately the curious babies ran up to the gate for their own version of a look-see. Momma was close behind, and had a much more menacing look to her than the li’l peeps.

Cristin says this one's her favorite. I think it looks like the bovine version of a shar-pei dog.

Please may I play?

No you may not. Stay on 'our' side of the fence dear.

But I really really want to momma!

You get back here right now!

As we stood there admiring our fine bovines, more and more of the pack (gaggle, litter, group?) wandered over until it was a veritable ruminant fiesta. These guys have pretty distinct personalities: the overbearing mom, the inquisitive but mistrusting child, the adolescent boy who is into trying new things (and by new things I mean licking one cow’s butt and drinking another’s urine while it was peeing), and the laid back Holstein who enjoys some good grass.

Grass. It's the gateway drug. All it takes is a little taste.

She looks stoned even after just one bite.

She won't be smiling like that when we play with the other end. Neither of them, actually.

Next thing you know, No. 4's addicted. And so are we!

Of course, then I begin to philosophize about what constitutes a soul, if a cow can have a personality does that mean that they can formulate thoughts like we can, etc. Then my head starts to hurt.

Do they have a sense of humor?

Or a some sort of vanity? "Take one of my good side, please."

We couldn’t rip grass out of the ground fast enough for No. 4. She’s quite the photo ham, as well. And their tongues are interesting, very muscular and used almost like a tool to wrap around the food and take it from you (which makes sense for the ripping of grass to eat). It’s almost creepy.
Off to study more of what happens when No. 4 ingests her grass. I think you all know the end result. But it’s the journey that counts, and not the destination, right?

How can someone ever be afraid of an animal that looks at you with those eyes?

It's hard to imagine ever being unhappy working with cows. Despite the mess.

Lesson of the Week #1.

Since starting here, I have learned some very quirky things about the world of animals. Thus, I've decided to begin a Lesson of the Week to pass along the interesting information learned in the annals of vet school. These lessons will come in varying forms; some in the form of a story, some as a recounting of events.

Lesson of the Week #1.

Prologue: We are sitting in histology this morning enjoying a lovely discussion about the tissues of the male and female reproductive organs. Dr. Stimmelmayr (yes, that is spelled correctly) begins to talk about the hormones produced during ovulation, and the process in which the follicles on the ovaries develop. She then abruptly interrupts herself by calling out to Dr. Kainer in the back of the room (filled with approximately 100 students): "tell them about testing for pregnancy using rabbits". Or some such nonsense.


Aside: Dr. Kainer is a very 'mature' gentleman, one who has seen many years in the scientific field and who is always willing to (very slowly) share his wisdom with his students.


Background: Prior to the advent of "the most advanced technology you’ll ever pee on", when his wife thought she was pregnant with their first child he had his wife submit a urine sample to him, which he then injected into a rabbit. A hormone called Human Chorionic Gonadotropin (hCG) is released shortly after the egg implants itself on the uterine wall. This hormone causes the placenta to release progesterone that aids in preventing the rejection of the developing embryo. The hCG hormone is detectable in a pregnant woman's urine. Injecting the urine containing the hormone hCG induces detectable ovarian changes in the rabbit. Specifically, the ovaries develop many follicles, which can be seen upon dissection.

Lesson: [Story by Dr. Kainer] Thus, Dr. Kainer explained to the class that in order to determine if his wife is pregnant, he injected urine into a rabbit, gave it a few days to take effect, and then dissected the rabbit to examine the ovaries. In his case, the ovaries were covered with follicles and so they celebrated that evening with a supper of rabbit stew.

Yes, if you didn't catch that, they ate the freaking rabbit. After injecting it with urine. Ah, what a child they must have created.

May I say, it is very nice to live in the advent of technology.

It's the RADIUS and the ULNUS!

You know that you've been studying the same 4 bones for too many hours when you very loudly insist that the bones are the radius and the ulnus. And there wasn't even any beer/wine present.

On the bright side, I think I now have the bones and muscles of the thoracic limb pretty well under control.

Saskia 1, Anatomy 0.

FYI - There are WAY more details to learn than this picture details. I swear.

I'm drowning in powerpoints.

Quick update: I'm getting a better handle on physio, feeling a tiny bit better about histo, nutrition is scaring me to death, and anatomy is just plain unorganized and not fun. But we haven't cut into anything yet, so that may change. Joined the scuba club, plan to get open water certified in my 'personal' time (i.e. between midnight and 8am). Haven't left campus in two weeks, except for a trip to the grocery store and bank. Dying for an extra large plate of nachos with sour cream and lots of cheese.

Back to the tour of campus...

Got a little distracted by the sea side voyage, forgot to share my pics of the campus. Not too many of them, it's hard to get clean shots of anything interesting, and we aren't allowed to take shots inside any of the buildings. But this will give you some ideas.

This is the patio off of the student union that overlooks some of the campus and the ocean.

Our trusty mailroom. Seriously. It's like a little shed with lattice doors.

View of the dorms from from the student union patio.

One of the student lunch areas outside of the anatomy lab. Yum.

This is the area where they sell produce and meat. :)

Sunset over the anatomy lab.

One of many stairways throughout campus. I'm serious. My legs are gonna be solid tree trunks soon.

Large Animal pavilion, where surgery happens!

Close up of the surgery areas for large animal.

View up the mountains past the small animal clinic.

Bookstore and Student Union.

Pastures for the horses and donkeys.

Sunset again. Just too pretty to only take one.

The walk back home...down one large hill and up another.

I know these hills don't look like much, but seriously dude. Try carrying 20# of books & climb them at noon.

On our way back to the dorm, we saw a really cute car for sale. Since we're getting a little antsy living on campus and not having any way to get into town or to the beach, we thought we would check it out. I think it's a real sweet deal. Just can't understand why it hasn't sold yet...

Um, yeah. We'd be better off having our family and friends just ship us a car piece by piece to be reassembled on the island.

What amenities! A solid plywood backseat! It can double as your hurricane window protection!

Another shot of that fabulous backseat.

Bonus! The door is still on the hinges.