Thursday, March 31, 2011

Workplace Dress Code

As I sit in front of the computer with my day-old chinese food (someone give me an amen on this - chinese is always better after sitting 24 hours in a fridge) and ponder how long I'll need to microwave my fund-raiser KrispyKreme glazed donut so that I can make it taste like it just emerged from that hot oil vat of glory like the "Hot Now!" ones back in the big city...I'll give you all a smidgen of an update from this past week.

The premise for this particular subject all began from the fact that a few of the people I work with read this blog and expect to see the day's crazy happenings appear in type in some form or another.  Often, someone will give me an idea or remind me of something insane that happened that day...this week, however, the ever-trusty vet assistant, Ashley, offered to furnish some pictures from my latest adventure in large animal surgery...

As in, "Hey Doc!  You want some pictures for your blog?   I took one of you when you were doing the c-section on that hog yesterday - your knees were stuck in the mud and your pants were falling down like crazy!  Don't you know that crack kills?!?!"

Yes.  I do know that "crack kills," and I also knew my jeans were falling down while I was performing surgery...but I was "sterile," elbow deep in a hog's abdomen, sitting on my heels (that felt like pins and needles) and simultaneously being sucked down by the mud that I was mired in and couldn't do a thing about it.  A truly excellent vet assistant would have grabbed me by my belt-loops and yanked my pants up to remedy my embarrassing situation.  My vet assistant was not excellent that day (are you reading this, Ashley??  Next time, I expect you to pull up my pants for me!).

No.  I am not posting the picture.

But this got me to thinking.  What is a country vet's dress code?  Every day of work so far, I've dressed like my fellow associate, Jessica: jeans, a scrub top and boots.  Obviously, I should also be wearing a belt...but maybe I should start imitating our superior, Nash, and wear bibs every day to altogether avoid the unfortunate situation I found myself in on Tuesday.  I can just see myself now:

This photo is from the Carhartt website.  I think it may be some sort of wedding ceremony, but I can only hope I'd look as stylish in my bibs at work as she does in hers on her wedding day.  I can't imagine I'll be wearing the halo of wildflowers, though.
I already know that some of the other people I work with at the vet hospital have a better sense of "country style" than I do...and quite honestly, the attire is so much more serviceable and, more often than not, pretty darn funny.  Here, let me give you a couple of examples:

This is Matthew.  He's an all-around great guy and a fantastic person to have around when you need a stout young man to crank the calf jack or work the saw wire when you're de-horning adult longhorn cattle.  Note the mudproof boots, the fail-safe "crackless" bibs, warm flannel jacket and hat to keep manure out of one's hair.

 
The hat's the funny part.  Here's a closer look: 

I'll read the fine print for you:  "1 mile off Interstate 69.  Sin City, Nevada."
Constance wore a great shirt today too; perfect for that shy farmer who comes in the office for some cattle medicine and who's not quite sure whether to ask you out on a date or not...I mean, we've even got a reward out for this fella:


All in all, I think next time you see me in the city, you might realize that I don't fit in quite as well as I used to; I'm already enjoying my new-found country fashion sense way too much.  You just can't beat a pair of Levi's and some worn-in boots.






PS.  The cat from Florida had an abscess (which is NOT cancerous).  The client put it perfectly when she said, "I've never been so happy to hear that my cat has a pocket of pus under his skin!" 

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