Post by Jonathan Anderson on Sept 27, 2007 8:43:52 GMT -4
Greetings all,
For those of you that do not know about it already, I had to have my dog, Smoke, put down this past weekend. We came home Saturday evening and he was panting very rapidly and shallowly. We took him to the emergency vet (more on that later), and they discovered that his stomach had bloated until it was almost completely round, and that he had an unidentifiable mass in his stomach. Based on the information we were given, and out of a desire to prevent any further suffering on the part of my best friend, the decision was made to put an end to his suffering.
Forgive my following rant, but here I'm going to outline the horrendous way we were, and have been treated by the emergency vet facility we took Smoke to.
Beach Veterinary Emergency Center
1124 Lynnhaven Parkway
Virginia Beach, Virginia 23452
(757) 468-4900
Based on my experiences on Saturday, I can tell you without reservation that if you have an animal that requires urgent care, and this organization is your ONLY choice as a location to take the animal to, do yourself, and above all do the animal a favor: buy a pistol, place the end of the barrel to the animal's head, and pull the trigger. That will be infinitely more compassionate to the animal, and it will be less traumatic on you. When we arrived at the location, I had to carry my dog into the building because he was too weak to even stand on his own. Apparently after dark their door requires the receptionist to push a button behind the desk to allow it to be opened. (A sensible precaution, to be sure) It took her a good 2 minutes to get around to letting us in. Then when he was taken in the back to be examined, after 30 minutes, the veterinarian came up front to tell us what I consider to be the single most stupid thing ever said in the history of medicine: "He's got a respiratory problem." The dog was on the verge of hyperventilating and could barely keep himself on his feet. A respiratory problem should be obvious to anyone that considers themselves smarter than your average boulder. Once they took x-rays, we found out about the bloating and the mass in his stomach. At that point, they stated that we could attempt to operate, but they only gave him a 50% chance of surviving the operation. They told us that they could attempt it, but if it were unsuccessful and they had to euthanize him anyway, it would cost over $1,000 (and we need that NOW); if he pulled through, it would be over $2,500 (and we need that NOW). I felt like I was being strong-armed to make this choice that would determine the life of my pet: either decide to have him put to sleep, or take a chance (with money I don't have) that he might pull through, and that he might not simply hang on for a few more weeks/months in pain. The receptionist wasn't any better, as she seemed completely indifferent to the magnitude of the choice we had to make, and she had no respect for Smoke as she refused to refer to him in the correct GENDER! This woman used every third person pronoun to refer to Smoke EXCEPT "he" or "him." (She, it, etc.) It was a serious internal battle for me to not go over the counter at her.
Short version: I felt more compassion from, and more respected by my Drill Instructors at Marine Corps boot camp on ANY GIVEN DAY than I did at this facility. As it is, this is not the only emergency animal hospital in this area, so I deeply and humbly ask you for your sakes, the sakes of your pets, and those of your friends and families, please do not go there for anything, and please advise everyone you know. By the time I got home early Sunday morning, instead of feeling that I had preserved Smoke's dignity and spared him unnecessary suffering, I instead felt like I had let my best friend down. I felt like a failure to him because I could not afford the surgery that had a small chance of actually returning him to a happy life; and I felt this way because of the psychological strong-arm tactics employed by the staff. It is absolutely despicable to take someone when they are so vulnerable, and try to squeeze as much money out of them as possible. (The "doctor" even tried to talk my father into convincing me to come up with extra money after he told her that we couldn't afford the surgery)
Again, please forgive me for putting this here, but if I wrote such a testimonial to them, it would never see the light of day, and as much as I love my dog, I feel that this is too important not to spread.
For those of you that do not know about it already, I had to have my dog, Smoke, put down this past weekend. We came home Saturday evening and he was panting very rapidly and shallowly. We took him to the emergency vet (more on that later), and they discovered that his stomach had bloated until it was almost completely round, and that he had an unidentifiable mass in his stomach. Based on the information we were given, and out of a desire to prevent any further suffering on the part of my best friend, the decision was made to put an end to his suffering.
Forgive my following rant, but here I'm going to outline the horrendous way we were, and have been treated by the emergency vet facility we took Smoke to.
Beach Veterinary Emergency Center
1124 Lynnhaven Parkway
Virginia Beach, Virginia 23452
(757) 468-4900
Based on my experiences on Saturday, I can tell you without reservation that if you have an animal that requires urgent care, and this organization is your ONLY choice as a location to take the animal to, do yourself, and above all do the animal a favor: buy a pistol, place the end of the barrel to the animal's head, and pull the trigger. That will be infinitely more compassionate to the animal, and it will be less traumatic on you. When we arrived at the location, I had to carry my dog into the building because he was too weak to even stand on his own. Apparently after dark their door requires the receptionist to push a button behind the desk to allow it to be opened. (A sensible precaution, to be sure) It took her a good 2 minutes to get around to letting us in. Then when he was taken in the back to be examined, after 30 minutes, the veterinarian came up front to tell us what I consider to be the single most stupid thing ever said in the history of medicine: "He's got a respiratory problem." The dog was on the verge of hyperventilating and could barely keep himself on his feet. A respiratory problem should be obvious to anyone that considers themselves smarter than your average boulder. Once they took x-rays, we found out about the bloating and the mass in his stomach. At that point, they stated that we could attempt to operate, but they only gave him a 50% chance of surviving the operation. They told us that they could attempt it, but if it were unsuccessful and they had to euthanize him anyway, it would cost over $1,000 (and we need that NOW); if he pulled through, it would be over $2,500 (and we need that NOW). I felt like I was being strong-armed to make this choice that would determine the life of my pet: either decide to have him put to sleep, or take a chance (with money I don't have) that he might pull through, and that he might not simply hang on for a few more weeks/months in pain. The receptionist wasn't any better, as she seemed completely indifferent to the magnitude of the choice we had to make, and she had no respect for Smoke as she refused to refer to him in the correct GENDER! This woman used every third person pronoun to refer to Smoke EXCEPT "he" or "him." (She, it, etc.) It was a serious internal battle for me to not go over the counter at her.
Short version: I felt more compassion from, and more respected by my Drill Instructors at Marine Corps boot camp on ANY GIVEN DAY than I did at this facility. As it is, this is not the only emergency animal hospital in this area, so I deeply and humbly ask you for your sakes, the sakes of your pets, and those of your friends and families, please do not go there for anything, and please advise everyone you know. By the time I got home early Sunday morning, instead of feeling that I had preserved Smoke's dignity and spared him unnecessary suffering, I instead felt like I had let my best friend down. I felt like a failure to him because I could not afford the surgery that had a small chance of actually returning him to a happy life; and I felt this way because of the psychological strong-arm tactics employed by the staff. It is absolutely despicable to take someone when they are so vulnerable, and try to squeeze as much money out of them as possible. (The "doctor" even tried to talk my father into convincing me to come up with extra money after he told her that we couldn't afford the surgery)
Again, please forgive me for putting this here, but if I wrote such a testimonial to them, it would never see the light of day, and as much as I love my dog, I feel that this is too important not to spread.
