It’s never as bad as waking up inside a dead horse…
Years ago in Paris, a veterinarian told me the harrowing hazing story about how would-be animal doctors are drugged and sewn up inside a dead horse. I’ve retold the story so often I won’t tell it here. His entire point is that the on-going pain of being a vet has to be trumped by some initial horrible experience; otherwise, the job will kill you.
Today, this very sad article caught my eye. It speaks to how most of us must deal with some unresolvable on-going pain. Either our own or the pain of others. And often the pain of others is worse to bear.
The article is here, about the high rate of suicide among veterinarians. It reminds me of something a publicist told me on tour, that many authors refuse to do book events on consecutive days. Readers tell them so many upsetting true life stories that these authors need a day or two to process each meet-and-greet.
The article also reminded me of a touching book, Tell Me Where It Hurts, written by a vet surgeon about his day-to-day practice. Really a lovely book.
Did you ever do anything with that story about a guy working as a baggage handler who intentionally severed his finger but not all the way so he started to try and pull it off? The particular detail about him feeling the sensation of his nerves running taunt up his arm like guitar string (was it guitar?) was particularly cringe inducing/great.
And speaking of recommended reading, you’ve mentioned Will Self a few times recently in interviews. Are there any particular books of his that you’d recommend?
My motto is always "I've been through worse"...but maybe I should add "but I've never been sewn in a dead horse"