Caesarian section on a dachshund mother; five pups. When pups are removed this way they won't wake up on their own; they need to be stimulated into breathing--this is accomplished through the very advanced technique of holding them in a towel and rubbing like crazy. If successful, they'll first react with sporadic breaths, and eventually regular breathing. I seemed to get good results, and so the pups that were doing poorly were passed to me.
At one point, one of them regressed from breathing occasionally to not breathing at all. Standard procedure wasn't working. I let the towel fall away and gently placed my fingers directly on the pup--no rubbing, no movement, just contact and hope. Immediately it started breathing--one, two, three times... regular breathing, not sporadic as before. In an instant, the outlook had changed from bleak to bright.
All five pups went home alive. The owner told me that the two previous c-sections done for dogs of hers resulted in not a single pup surviving.
During and after the procedure, the others present called me things ranging from "the expert rubber" to "the one with the magic hands." They also say I'm going to be very good working in human medicine. I don't know if any of that is warranted; all I know is that I'm on the right course. Even as a child, I knew that I was meant to be a healer. It took me almost thirty years to do anything about it, but now that I've started down that path I have no doubt it is my calling.
Instead of a white robe with red triangle trim, I'm wearing scrubs. It's not precisely the image of my fantasies, but I feel every bit as fulfilled.