In the field

(C) myrmician at www.Flickr.com

Being outdoors in Australia has certain charms and certain faults, expecially in the warmer weather.  It’s lovely and warm in the sun (perhaps a little too warm if you spend more than a few hours in it), not too bad in the shade, the scenery in the countryside is not to shabby and it’s genuinely very peaceful.

The downsides of the Australian climate is the vast number of creepy crawlies that want to bite you, many of which are poisonous.  Biting flies, ants, mosquitoes and other insects in addition to all our infamous snakes. These local residents can make doing sterile surgery “In the field” somewhat less than ideal.I had gone out to a property with another vet to learn how to castrate a particular livestock species. It was a lovely place: Half way up a hill overlooking a beautiful river with tree covered hills on either side. The people were nice, and the patient, although grumpy, didn’t try to do much about his displeasure.

He did, however, seriously resist the effects of his anaesthetic and took an incredibly long time to lie down so we could do the opperation. Not that we minded too much; it was a lovely day in a lovely place. When the grumpy creature eventually did lie down we set about the castration.

Flies have a tendancy to always go exactly where you don’t want them to be. Specifically, the nosy insects will always try to fly into where you’re cutting, and when you’re wearing sterile surgical gloves you’re not allowed to swat them, because they will contaminate the site. If they bother you the best you can do is wave at them and hope they will move. This doesn’t always work, because one particular species of fly is build like a tank. They’re slow moving and not very bright, but even if you do swat them they tend to keep flying.

However, the site that makes the little surgeon inside of me cringe the most is the sight of a big, black, nasty bull ant marching purposefully across your pristine surgical instruments. Not only is the little menace bringing dirt and germs into your surgical zone, but they deliver a nasty bite with attitude.

At this point I remembered a ‘delightful’ incident from my childhood that would stay with me forever.

These creatures have nests. With collonies. Of hundreds of ants.

I spent the rest of the speedy procedure hoping desperately that this spiteful patient hadn’t chosen to lie down on a bull ant nest, as I knelt beside it in the dirt.

Now tell me, would any human surgery doing an non-emergency procedure put up with these conditions?