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Chetek vet combines tender heart with
state of the art
The Animal
Hospital of Chetek looks like a house from the outside and feels like home when
you step inside. Pets are welcome on the waiting room furniture, and dogs and
cats who have to part from family members behave as if they’ve headed for a
holiday instead of health care.
Muffy the dog and Win Win the cat, both about 10 years old, were at the clinic
for dental checkups. Companion animal veterinarian René Carlson was also
going to check on the little dog’s persistent sneeze and Win Win’s bothersome
canine tooth.
Muffy’s sneezing could be nothing more than a piece of grass irritating the
inner lining of her nose, said Carlson. She explained that she would check
Muffy’s nose while she was anesthetized to be sure there was nothing seriously
wrong. Win Win’s tooth was fractured and would have to be removed, she
said.
Carlson has practiced companion animal medicine since she graduated from the
University of Minnesota College of Veterinary Medicine in 1978 and completed her
internship in small animal medicine and surgery in Springfield, Mass., in 1979.
She moved to Chetek in 1990 with her husband, Mark, a veterinary pathologist at
the Wisconsin Veterinary Diagnostic Lab in Barron. Carlson built the
hospital 1 mile north of Chetek on Hwy. M in 1996.
As a child, Carlson had cats, parakeets, dogs, horses, geese and rabbits on the
family’s 8 acres. “It was just a case of Mom and Dad letting their kids have all
the animals they wanted,” she said.
When Carlson was 14, one of her kittens wandered too near a dog’s bowl, and the
dog attacked. The family veterinarian could not save the kitten, and the
experience wrenched from the young woman a commitment to the small, voiceless
members of the animal kingdom that humans treat either as pets or pests.
“Someday I’m going to be a veterinarian so I can help all those animals,” she
vowed. Carlson shadowed her family’s veterinarian in Bloomington, Minn., for 1
week as a high school junior. The next fall, he offered her a job, and the
young woman cleaned cages, emptied wastebaskets and swept and mopped floors 7
days a week for $1.50/hour.
Carlson worked her way up from the entry position to veterinary assistant, a job
that required her to perform lab tests and surgical preparations and assistance
and gave her 3 years of practical experience before she entered veterinarian
school.
“Current standards would not allow me to do that now,” she vowed. “That’s
a very fond time in my history.”
Being a veterinarian is similar to being a pediatrician, Carlson said.
“Your patients are relatively small,” she said. “They can’t talk to you,
and It’s very emotional. People are very concerned about their animals.
It’s their family.
“One of the things I’m most passionate about is knowing how the animal fits into
the family and why they’re so important to them,” she said.
Whether the pet owner is young, old, healthy or handicapped, every situation is
different and special.
“I’m not an animal rights person, but they’re really victims of the
circumstances they’re born into,” Carlson said. “So I just admire people
who extend their love and care to animals.”
It’s almost as important to watch the owners as it is to watch the pet, she
said. The way pet owners move or speak often signals physical distress or
emotional stress in their own lives.
“That’s what motivates me,” said Carlson. “It drives me to try to do
everything I can to save the animal. It is so important to those people to
have them back for comfort.”
That’s why Carlson and the hospital’s other two veterinarians, Mary Schoenberg
and Mike Kuchevar, wear pagers and have made home visits for elderly people who
cannot bring their pets to the clinic.
“We’ll see everybody,” she said. “That’s why I always ask them, ‘Would you
feel better if we saw them tonight?’ I don’t care if it’s a tick.
Peace of mind-that’s what we want to give people.
“The animals do not always appreciate what we’re doing for them, even though we
try to make it as pleasant as possible,” said Carlson. “They don’t pay the
bills, and they don’t come back by choice. “So we coddle and care for the
family. That’s part of health care, but it’s also part of our business.”
VETERINARIAN OF THE YEAR
Carlson was recognized as 2001 Veterinarian of the Year at the Wisconsin
Veterinarian Medical Assn.’s convention in October in Madison. “It was the
shock of my life,” she said. Carlson usually attends the events; still, her
husband was nervous for the 3 weeks while he knew and “created lie upon lie” to
ensure that his wife would not miss the awards ceremony. “It’s probably the
biggest moment of the convention,” she said. “I was sitting there like
everybody else, trying to guess who it was going to be.”
Carlson’s contributions to the profession began when she served 2 years as
secretary of the Dane County Veterinary Assn. As a resident of northern
Wisconsin, Carlson attended meetings of the Northwestern Wisconsin Veterinary
Medical Assn. And was nominated as president-elect just before the president
moved, bumping her into the lead position in 1992 and 1993.
At a state leadership conference, she was asked to run for WVMA president.
“At first I said, ‘No, I’m not qualified,’” she said. But then Carlson
remembered her experience on the group’s public education, marketing and
veterinarian tech’s advisory committees and her Dale Carnegie human relations
course that taught her to approach every opportunity in life with enthusiasm and
self-confidence. ”It’s because of that course that I had the courage to buy land
and build the clinic,” Carlson said. “If you’re willing to stretch
yourself and cross the line, it expands your horizon so much.”
The concept is similar to the goldfish theory that reminds us that fish, and
humans, adapt to their environments, she said. Compare the size of the
goldfish in a small bowl to one in an outdoor pond. Personal growth is
usually limited by self-constructed boundaries.
“I’m such a believer in having the courage to confront your fears and expand
your knowledge because it opens so many opportunities in life that you wouldn’t
believe were possible,” Carlson said.
Carlson decided to campaign, gave it all she had and was elected WVMA president
for the 1994-1995 year. The commitment includes 1 year terms as
president-elect and past-president.
Later she served a 4-year term as Wisconsin’s alternate delegate to the American
Veterinary Medical Assn. Carlson is currently in her second year of a
4-year term as the Wisconsin delegate to the AVMA.
IN SURGERY
Carlson, Schoenberg and Kuchevar require that all
animals receive blood tests before they are given anesthesia, a big step for a
small animal hospital in rural Wisconsin. But underlying, invisible
problems like anemia, liver problems and dehydration can jeopardize a patient’s
safety while they are sedated, Carlson said.
“In my mind, the ones who are taking the risk are the animal and the doctor,”
she said. “We’ve really built this place on the best patient care, and
those are the clients we have.”
Win Win was sleeping under the watchful eye of certified veterinary technician
Danette Saffert when Carlson entered the room. Saffert grew up a farm
girl, helping Dad treat the cows, active in 4-H and FFA and showing sheep and
cows at the Barron County Fair. She graduated from the 2-year veterinary
technician program at Madison Area Technical College in 1999.
“Danette’s got the tough job,” Carlson said. “Anybody can learn to do surgery
with training. Anesthesia is always the tricky part and is different for
each patient.” A state of the art monitor tracks the level of carbon dioxide in
the body. There are few of these instruments in the state, yet high levels
of carbon dioxide during anesthesia can cause complications, she said.
Isofluorane gas is a fast-acting anesthesia that Carlson prefers.
Different amounts place patients in different “planes” of anesthetization. “It’s
all based on experience and the monitor, Carlson said. “I want the safest
anesthetic agents available.”
“I need a 15 blade and a surgical pack,” said Carlson, draped now in surgical
gown, gloves and cap.
Turning, she explained, “Many times I take an X-ray. But this tooth is
fractured, and I’m going to have to remove it.”
The unusual thing about veterinary dentistry is that “you don’t know what you’re
getting into until the animal is asleep,” she said. Humans go in for a check-up
and schedule follow-up appointments for necessary procedures.
“Here we’d have to put them under anesthesia again with more cost and risk to
the animal, so we just end up doing it,” said Carlson.
She made an incision through the gum above Win Win’s canine, drilled the bone
from the side of the tooth and then inserted a dental elevator between the tooth
and the little ligaments that hold it in place.
“If you stretch and release, stretch and release, you don’t have to put too much
pressure on it,” said Carlson. “The trick is to just be patient.”
Saffert stood across the table, watching the monitor, reaching beneath the
surgical sheet to check Win Win’s heartbeat, calculating the flow of anesthesia.
In a matter of minutes, the tooth was out. Magic.
Or so it seemed. But the bony arch over the canine tooth makes removing it
one of the “messiest” of dental procedures, Carlson said.
“The interesting thing with animals is they experience pain just like a person,
but they don’t tell you,” she said as she sutured the incision. “We’re
devoted to managing pain. It’s very well proven that animals heal better
if they don’t hurt. So he’ll get pain medication.”
Saffert stayed with Win Win when Carlson stepped from the room. “We always
have a technician with the patient,” Carlson said. “That’s very important.
There’s nothing better than the real live person watching them. Machines aren’t
perfect.”
The bone will grow back, Carlson said. And Win Win will be fine without the
tooth, which primarily serves to snag prey and hold out his upper lip, she said.
Win Win doesn’t have to hunt for supper, and he will be healthier without the
chronic toothache. And the missing tooth did not detract from his looks; he is
beautiful.
Veterinary dentistry has only been practiced for about 15 years and wasn’t
taught when Carlson was in school. She has since taken classes at the
University of Illinois and the University of Madison veterinary schools and
“endless ones around the Midwest” to learn to care for the oral health of her
patients. Dental checkups are now part of their annual physicals, and
Carlson continues her studies.
Saffert monitors Win Win’s heart and his breathing as she turns off the
anesthetic, and he begins to waken. When he swallows, it is safe to lay
him gently onto his blanket from home, stroke his fur until he lifts his head,
and then tuck him in with gentle words before leaving to assist Carlson with the
next procedure.
“There’s no pus, no foreign bodies, no tumors or infections,” Carlson said as
she examined Muffy’s nostrils with a videoscope. The tiny camera probe displays
what the doctors see on a television screen and on televisions in two exam
rooms. Pictures can also be printed for documentation in animals’ records.
“Just light pink, normal vessels here,” the doctor said. “I don’t see any
indication of anything.”
The hospital also boasts an ultrasound that allows the doctors to look for
tumors or bladder stones without taking the animals to surgery, she said.
THE BUSINESS
“Eat?” she replied to a question of when she would take a break to replenish her
own strength. “That’s a good question. Some days we just eat on the fly.”
A
literal statement that day. Within the hour, Carlson was off to catch the
afternoon shuttle flight to the Twin Cities for a flight to Chicago, where she
would attend a 2-day board of directors meeting of the American Veterinary
Medical Foundation, where she is in her third year of a 3-year term as secretary
and plans to serve another term.
The professional charitable organization funds veterinary education and
research, sponsors Veterinary Medical Assistance Teams for dogs like those that
worked at Ground Zero following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks at the World
Trade Center, and reimburses veterinarians when they provide medical care
following catastrophic events and natural disasters. Carlson speaks to
interested groups about the dog teams to raise funds for AVMF.
Schoenberg performs veterinary acupuncture and will be certified through the
International Veterinary Acupuncture Society, and Kuchevar has a special
interest in reptiles and birds.
“The benefit of acupuncture is that it teaches you a little more about the total
body experience,” Carlson said.
Working with other doctors allows them to share their experience and interests
to the benefit of their patients.
The business also includes another certified veterinarian tech, two veterinarian
assistants, 1-2 groomers and four ward attendants.
The practice emphasizes preventative medicine, and its services include surgery,
dentistry, geriatric health care, radiology, nutritional consultation,
Microchipping, reproductive services, orthopedic surgery, diagnostic laboratory,
pharmacy, boarding and grooming.
Euthanasia is a last resort in cases of terminal illness, extreme age, injury
beyond repair and extreme aggression. Diseases like diabetes are manageable, she
said. And dealing with them promotes good animal health care. “Anybody can
kill animals,” said Carlson. “The people here work hard to save animals,
and it boosts morale.”
The hospital is one of only 50 of the 700 Wisconsin practices to be certified
with the American Animal Hospital Association and was one of 12 in the nation to
earn the group’s Practice of Excellence Award in 2000.
“We’ve been blessed by the good things happening here,” Carlson said.
Hospital hours are Monday-Friday, 7:30a.m.-5:30p.m. and Saturday from 8 a.m.-1
p.m. For information, call the office at 859-6650 or visit the Web site at
“www.animalhospitalchetek.com.”
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