The Gift of Pets: Stories Only a Vet Could Tell Read Online Free PDF Page A

diagnosis nor my capabilities. Finally: “Ju do thees … cutting before?”
    “Yes, I have, Mr. Toumopoulis.” I tried to be as reassuring as possible while at the same time maintaining a healthy realism. This was a serious condition and the risks were very real. “You must understand that Greco is seriously ill, and though it’s unlikely, it’s possible we could lose him during surgery. But without it, we’ll lose him for sure.”
    Mr. Toumopolis studied the floor for a few moments, his dark eyebrows furrowed, almost meeting in the middle over his prominent nose. His hand ran over Greco’s head, absently tracing the dog’s forehead and ears. Greco didn’t respond to his touch.
    In the end, it wasn’t my urging that finally convinced Mr. Toumopolis. It was Greco’s quiet grunt of discomfort that brought him around. With a conflicted mixture of resignation and conviction, he turned to face me.
    “Hokay, Doctohr. Ju go do cutting now. I waita for ju to call.” He turned to go.
    “Mr. Toumopoulis!” I stammered out too quickly. “There’s something else.”
    When it comes to my practice, I hate more than anything the need to discuss the financial aspects of treating my patients. Human physicians, understandably, do not have to contend with financial constraints in the treatment of their patients. Veterinarians, on the other hand, are accustomed to these considerations and are always prepared to include financial matters in their discussions about treatment. Throughout my entire career, I have understood the importance of communicating clearly the expected costs of treatment. Few people are situated financially such that these discussions are unnecessary.
    Strangely, it is perhaps these discussions that have made it possible—necessary, in fact—for the veterinary profession to remain the best value in the field of health care. In human medicine, with a massive percentage of costs accrued within the last weeks of life, including incredibly expensive diagnostic testing and budget-busting pharmaceuticals, costs have escalated exponentially—costs that are largely invisible to those who actually receive the services.
    This is not so in veterinary medicine. Costs for care are borne directly by the ones who must make the decisions about health care. And each individual must consider the costs and the wider implications of those costs on families and loved ones. These factors have forced us to keep the costs for significantly sophisticated care to a fraction of those for similar human care. This is true even though the costs to a veterinary practitioner of providing services are higher than those for the typical family-practice physician. While physicians can refer their patients to the local hospital for X-rays, blood work, a sonogram, surgery, and hospitalization, we veterinarians must provide those capabilities in our offices and still somehow keep the costs manageable for the clients.
    I turned to Mr. Toumopolis with resignation, knowing this part of the discussion was never fun.
    “You need to know that surgery could be fairly expensive. For some people, that is a consideration. The business office can give you an estimate for the fees and arrange payment options if necessary. So I’ll need you to—”
    My words were interrupted by a flash of unhappiness in Antonio’s dark eyes. “No … No … No…” Each word was punctuated by the jabbing of a thick finger in my chest. Then Antonio’s eyes lightened and he addressed me in a rhythmic, almost musical cadence. “I tella ju vhat. Ju teka de responsibility to fixa de dohg; I teka de responsibility to paya de bill.”
    And that pretty much settled it. I accepted his terms and began work on my patient. Greco was hospitalized, and a large catheter was placed in his leg, through which we pumped fluids into his vein. His head sank in sleep as I pushed the anesthetic into the catheter before slipping a large plastic tube into his trachea, which allowed me