Island Med Student

The past few days have been very difficult for me. I wrote an entry for Medscape (it should be posted soon), which will elucidate all the events, so I’ll give the abbreviated summary here. Klyde and Scope were unfortunately sick puppies. Micah and I went through three days of caretaking hell. They were both vomiting and having bloody diarrhea. They both had worms, and we thought they also had Parvo. We still don’t know exactly what illness they had, but they were obviously both very sick.

The story ended sadly. Klyde had to be euthanized, and the sequence of events that lead up to his death was very tragic. The good news is that Scope did make it, and it looks like he’s almost in the clear.

Yesterday was probably the most difficult day that I’ve had while in Dominica. I was basically sobbing for the majority of the day. For some reason that I can’t quite comprehend, I took Klyde’s death very personally. I went into a horrible downward spiral and couldn’t come to grips with what happened, and I think it will be a while before I do.

As I went for my run today, I thought about the events over the past few days, and I realized something powerful about living in a country like Dominica. I really do enjoy being able to experience another culture, yet there are some aspects that I can’t seem to accept.

A few days ago, I witnessed a boy being beaten by his father in his house. I don’t know exactly what caused it, but I could tell that the boy was definitely in pain. If I were in the States, I would have called social services. Well, there really aren’t social services in Dominica. There isn’t a foster care system, and there’s not really much that can be done. Most importantly, beating your child is not really considered to be a bad thing here. What I consider to be an appropriate way of raising a child is considered by most people here to be entirely inappropriate. It’s one of those times where you have to say, “well, everybody has their own culture, and I have to accept that.” I realized that you can easily say those words, but it doesn’t mean you really mean it.

When my puppy Klyde was ill, I didn’t have the option of taking him to a veterinary hospital. There isn’t one here. The best I could do was a vet tech. He couldn’t take blood samples, he couldn’t put in a catheter, and he really couldn’t do much for my puppy.

The Dominican attitude towards animals is much different from what I’m used to in the States. There is no SPCA here, and it’s considered entirely acceptable to abuse and neglect the animals. I’m not saying that no one cares about animals here, but the attitude is just so much different. When the vet tech came to my house and put my puppy in a trash bag, I broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably. My heart was breaking. The vet tech seemed astonished. He didn’t understand why anyone would cry over a simple dog.

Again, I could just chalk it up to “a different culture,” and let it go. But I can’t. I want to accept everyone’s right to live their life as they see fit. I want to be accepting of all cultures and varieties of humans, but I’ve realized that there are some basic rules that I just can’t understand breaking.

I’m still so upset about my puppy’s death, that I am having trouble functioning, but I know that I need to let it go. Nothing is going to bring him back, and I have to accept the rules of the country I reside in. All I can do is shower my puppy Scope with more love than he knows what to do with, and try to find the strength to move on.