I was raped

I am going to put this out there - I am using this forum only as a place to provide myself therapy after a traumatic experience. There will be details I will not divulge and reasons I will not go to the authorities. Do not urge me to report anything. This is a metaphor for something I am going through.

The man i have been seeing is far away. I didn’t want to get close to him, but I caught feelings and agreed to wait for him to return. To be fair, I don’t want or need anyone else in my life (I don’t need anyone at all, but it’s nice) so it’s not very hard to avoid the advances of other men. Avoiding the advances of women is more difficult for some reason though.

My man has a friend, also a male. They knew each other back in the day and have been friends a long time. They have each other’s back. Since my man is away and unable to freely communicate with me, I’ve been finding that talking to his sister and his friend make me feel closer to him. So I try to talk to them every couple of days, so as not to be a burden. His sister is an absolute delight and I adore her. She works as much as I do, so we don’t hang out much, but we talk a few times a week. His friend is fun to talk to and discuss him with. I love talking about my man with people who know him.

Tuesday night I was at karaoke like usual. As usual I invited all my friends and as usual I ended up alone at karaoke. I don’t mind. The DJs know me and the bartenders are accustomed to me and I enjoy the alone time in my happy place. My man’s friend messaged me and I asked him to come out and sing with me, as I always do. He said it’s too far but did I want to meet for last call at a bar closer to home?  I said sure. We’ve met before and chatted and drank, and I’d stopped drinking at midnight as always. Since I’d gotten to the bar late, I wasn’t even feeling a buzz, and the karaoke queue had been so short that the DJ was packing up early. So I went to the bar closer to home to meet the friend.

I had a drink with him and we played a round of pool. He had some damn fine tricks that were fun to watch. We talked about pool and my man and our week as usual. He bought me another drink and a shot. I was a half mile from home and considered walking home, so I accepted them. Everything was hunky Dory. I saw a female acquaintance at the bar and we talked as well. While we talked, my man’s friend came up from behind me and put his arm around me in a hug and said hi to my acquaintance. His arm went over my shoulder and around my throat. Since I tend to hug people in weird ways also, I thought nothing of it. I leaned into the hug, as one does, and we laughed and joked.

Then the bar closed. We finished our drinks and walked to my car. He said he was worried that I was too inebriated to drive. I said I was fine, as I was a little buzzed but had control of all my faculties. He insisted on taking me home. I assumed he was being a gentleman, protecting his friend’s girl. I could always walk back to my car in the morning, so I eventually gave in. I got in his car.

He drove right past my place.

I told him he’d passed it and he needed to turn around. He kept driving.

I got worried.

I focused on the road and tried to remember where we turned and tried to build a pathway to retrace the steps so I could walk home whenever he stopped. I wanted to go home. I can’t remember the turns or the streets. I don’t remember when we got to his house. I don’t remember how I ended up inside. I didn’t know how to act. I had a beer in my hand and there was a dog. I pet the dog. The rest is a blur of confusion and stark memories. Some things I remember vividly. Some things I don’t remember at all.  I remember a spiral staircase. I don’t remember how my shorts came off. I remember being surprised that he tried to kiss me and I remember being penetrated aggressively. I remember squirting a lot but not having an orgasm. I remember sobbing and calling out for my man and telling his friend that I didn’t want to do this and that I loved my man and he needs to stop and that I don’t want to lose my man and please stop no I love my man please stop.

I remember finally being able to crawl away across the bed and he came up behind me and forced himself into me again, this time in the Wrong Hole....where I am already suffering from a fissure. The excruciating pain caused me to yell out and jump forward and he kept coming at me. I was sobbing louder now and I only remember that he finally listened to me. He was upset with me that I was crying and that I wanted my man and I wanted to go home. I don’t remember much of the rest of the night. I know he continued to rape me.  He choked me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I have flashes of pulling at his hands around my neck and begging him not to leave a bruise because I have to look professional at work (?WTF why did I care about that instead of telling him to stop fucking choking me?!). I remember begging him not to tell my man because I didn’t want to lose him.  I remember struggling to try to remember things.

And then I woke up. I got dressed. I told him I was calling a Lyft and he insisted on taking me back to my car. That would be faster. I let him. He took me to my car. I drove home. 

I was raped. 

Edit: I wrote this nearly a year ago and didn’t publish it. I ended up telling my man, the day after it happened, and we are still together. He encouraged me to report his ex-friend. I did, but two days and 3 showers later. My man is home now and he is so supportive. I love him so much. Sadly there isn’t enough evidence to prove anything from the SANE (rape kit) and I really don’t want to relive things and have my life taken under scrutiny in trial. My boyfriend says he supports my decision because my mental health is more important. I still feel guilty. I did nothing wrong but I feel guilty. 

Letting your dog die

“You’re not going to let my dog DIE, are you?”

These words. These words are asked of me way too frequently. As a licensed veterinary technician in emergency medicine, we are frequently unfairly burdened by pet parents about being responsible for the health and life of their fur baby. 

Recently, a client brought in her dog in distress due to dystocia. Dystocia is “difficult birth”. The bitch had been in active labor, stage 2, where she had been contracting for 5 hours to push out a puppy. As a general rule, if the mother is pushing for more than an hour, this is considered an emergency and requires medical intervention. Pushing for too long can cause uterine inertia to decline and the potential for the uterus to rupture entirely. This mother had been pushing for 5 hours, so we knew it was going to be a problem. 

Upon arrival, we triaged the bitch into our hospital while the human waited outside. At this time, we are strictly curbside service because of the COVID-19 pandemic. I obtained a pertinent history from the human while my coworkers performed a vitals check and exam. As a courtesy, I described how the process works: my doctor performs their exam, and then they call the client and discuss findings and recommendations based on the exam they perform. The client asked about diagnostics and the potential for a c-section and I quoted them a ballpark price, buffering it with “only if the doctor recommends it, based on her size, and the cost could change based on what she needs”. 

The client said, “I only have $500. You’re not going to let my dog DIE, are you?”

Full stop. 

First of all, I appreciate the budget. It’s a lot easier for my doctor to formulate the best plan for the client when we have a budget to work within. We will always recommend gold standard care, but the client can *always* let us know if they can’t/won’t afford Gold Standard, and then provide us a budget to work within. This allows the doctor to choose the best combination of the less-than-ideal treatment plans to maximize your pet’s potential for healing. We understand. We’ve all been there, and as veterinary professionals we not only have empathy in spades, but we make bupkis so we frequently have to settle for less than the best because we can’t afford it. We get it and we appreciate the honesty. 

Second thing - it’s not me or us that will let your dog die. We have the capabilities to perform whatever your pet needs. We are fully stocked and skilled to do what your pet requires. We are also not responsible for every pet in the world, state, county, city, or even those in the general proximity to the clinic. We perform a service, and we are extremely capable. It is not the veterinary staff who holds the responsibility of your pet’s health and welfare. That’s on you, the pet parent. 

And so I responded as I always do, “We will do whatever it is YOU can do for your pet. I know this was unexpected, but we perform a service and we require payment at time of service. I know it can be hard to be a responsible breeder.” 

Asking me if I’m going to let a pet die is a way to try to remove all responsibility from yourself and put it on the veterinary staff that just met your pet. Just because we are skilled and compassionate and empathetic doesn’t mean we can absorb the cost of your pet’s treatments. 

A pet is a responsibility, not a right. 

Breeding your pet is not for someone who cannot plan ahead and budget for an emergency c-section. If the litter is unplanned, a pet parent has the option to spay the female before the fetuses come to term, which is significantly less out of pocket cost. 

So the next time you go to your vet, be it wellness or emergency, please do not burden the staff with your obligations unfairly. And if you intend to breed your pet, make sure you have room in your budget for an emergency c-section. You don’t want to let your pet DIE, do you?