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| Suki and me and happier times, before Edward J. Nichols, Crestway Animal Clinic, took everything. |
It
was 13 years ago tonight that I held my Suki for the last time. It's
funny how you can pinpoint the exact moment that your life changes –
but not at the time it's happening. It sometimes takes years to
realize the full extent of the damage and devastation the complete
betrayal by a incompetent, negligent, and abusive veterinarian can
cause. Only in hindsight can you see the wreckage – in many cases a
hit and run.
Like
most every other veterinary victim I've ever met, known of, or heard
from, my life has never been the same since this happened on April
26, 1999. Actually, make that April 19, the day Suki collapsed and I
made the biggest mistake of my life: trusting a “doctor” to not
do anything to harm or kill her. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I could turn
back the clock and never allow the monster anywhere near her, or me.
Of
all the emotions that emerge in discussions with other victims –
anger, outrage, shock, helplessness, grief – none is more pervasive
than guilt. It's the one emotion that never seems to fade with time –
in fact, for many of us it's gotten worse.
What
would we have to be guilty about? After all, it was the vets who
committed the wrongdoing – the malpractice, the negligence,
incompetence, lies, and abuse – so why are we the ones feeling
guilty instead of them?
Apparently,
not being able to recognize dishonesty, incompetence, cruelty,
arrogance, laziness, stupidity, and abuse in a setting that's 100
percent built and designed to be an atmosphere of trust is enough to
make some of us flog ourselves for life.
I
hear the same things over and over, from myself and others: Why did I
believe what he/she was telling me? Why did I leave my pet with him?
Why didn't I get a second opinion? Why did I let him/her talk me
into/out of unnecessary/necessary tests or treatments? Why didn't I
get my pet out of there the minute something felt wrong? Why didn't I
talk to people who used to work with him/her sooner, people who know
what he/she really is, as opposed to the act? Why did I wait? Why
didn't I wait? Why did (or didn't) I do this, or that, or something,
anything, that would have made this horror story never happen.
Over
and over, every day, for years, decades, lifetimes: Why?
Feelings
of guilt, depression, anxiety and worthlessness, on top of the
unrelenting grief, pain, and outrage, can choke the life out of,
well, life. The weight of all that is crushing, and while you may be
able to live with the grief, pain, and outrage (and do something
constructive with it), there's not much you can do with guilt.
But
here's the thing, and this is what I tell every vet victim, including
myself. Sometimes I even listen, and I hope others will:
When
someone is as hideous, dishonest, arrogant, incompetent, lazy, careless,
sloppy and stupid as the vets who took our companions are – then
blaming yourself for their actions and inactions is just plain wrong.
If a crook stole your car, would you feel guilty for parking it in
the wrong spot, or driving it to the wrong destination, or even
buying the “wrong” car in the first place? Of course not. You'd
be blasting the thief to hell and back, placing blame exactly where
it belongs, and doing everything possible to bring that criminal to
justice. You would know without a shadow of a doubt that the crook
who took your car was wrong – not you.
So
why do we let these miscreants – who have already taken our pets,
our trust, our money, time, energy, effort, health, sleep, privacy,
peace of mind and so much more – why would we allow them to dictate
where our lives go, or where our happiness lies, or what our futures
hold?
Don't do it. You
may not have been able to keep your precious pets safe, but you can
keep your precious life safe. Don't help these creeps take anything
else that doesn't belong to them. Haven't they taken enough?
