DrAndyRoark.com

Articles, Videos, & Training on Pets & Veterinary Medicine

Cherie Buisson, DVM, CHPV

A Love Letter to the Front Desk Superstars

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Dear Brave Guardians of the Front Door, Telephone, and Email,

Thank you. From the bottom of my heart thank you for keeping my introverted phone-hating self from having to answer calls. Thank you for preventing my stomach from tying into knots with every ring. Thank you for all the times you had to hang on to the wrist of your receiver-holding hand to ensure you wouldn’t slam that thing back into the cradle.

Thank you for being patient with me every time I left a detailed message and the client called right back without checking their voicemail. Or the times when the client and I have played phone tag all day long. Or when you had to interrupt me in the middle of something to relay an emergency message. Or when I was frustrated with something else and you had the misfortune of needing to talk to me. I’m sorry my faces were out loud.

Thank you for being there for every scared and sad client. Thank you for being the gentle, reassuring voice that guides them to where they need to be. Thank you for answering emails while talking on the phone and waving/smiling at someone entering the door – all at the same time.

Thank you for learning the right questions to ask so you can determine if there is an emergency. So many of you don’t have a medical background and yet you work hard to keep our patients safe before we ever see them.

Thank you for having my back, for protecting me from sales calls, and for being delighted when you call me up to the front desk and I’m met with a bouquet of flowers instead of the angry client I was expecting. Thank you for getting me cookies from The Cookie Man when I was too busy to order some. Thank you for knowing I hate the ones with raisins. Thank you for every time you didn’t overload my schedule or squeeze in an appointment after hours when I had somewhere to be. Thank you for defusing upset clients before I ever got to the phone.

Most of all, thank you for doing the most dreaded job in the hospital with grace and humor. None of us could do this without you.

Hugs, love, and admiration,
A Happy Vet

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

Everything You Need to Know About Bravery Can be Learned from a Bamboo Shrimp

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My latest aquarium obsession? Bamboo Shrimp. I stumbled upon them one day while Googling aquarium stuff when I was supposed to be working. I was delighted to find that my local fish store had them. I got one, hoping that I wouldn’t kill it. They often die within the first 2 weeks of introducing them to an aquarium, and I haven’t had the best luck with shrimp.

Mittsy did well, despite my inexperience. I could watch her for hours, holding her feeding fans up to the water flow and collecting small bits of food that she rotates into her mouth when the fan is full.

Bamboo shrimp have zero defenses. They are big and somewhat scary looking, but they are the most gentle of aquarium creatures. When startled, they tuck their fans in tightly to prevent them from being injured. The most beautiful part of themselves is also the most important – it’s what keeps them alive.

This is a video of Mittsy eating out of the filter flow.

Mittsy the Bamboo Shrimp from Andy Roark on Vimeo.

She is out in the open and completely vulnerable. She holds her delicate fans up high to catch whatever deliciousness might come her way. If she protects herself inside a rock, plant, or piece of wood, she may be safe from predators, but she’ll eventually starve. Instead, she chooses to reach out for all the good things that come from throwing yourself into the flow. When she molts, she is at her most vulnerable, and she will forego food to protect herself until she is strong again. That’s the smartest thing she can do.

She is often knocked around by inconsiderate, hungry fish. Sometimes, she reaches so high that the flow takes her, and she falls to the bottom of the tank. When this happens, she sweeps her fans through the sand looking for a snack before climbing right back into the churning water.

If you put a bunch of Bamboo shrimp in a tank, something awesome happens. Instead of fighting or shoving each other off their perch, they simply jostle around and make room. Sometimes they’ll stack themselves so everyone can eat together. They don’t necessarily help each other, but they at least do no harm to their companions. This, in my opinion, is the most stunning example of their bravery.

It’s tempting to hide from the world. I certainly find it easier to stay at home and work in a place of quiet and safety. There are rewards for that, but not nearly the rewards that come from putting myself out there and taking risks. I have so many more regrets about things I didn’t try than things I did. The more I try, the more fun I have, and the more I believe in myself. Sure, I have to stand back up and dust myself off when I tumble off my self-appointed pedestal. But I can take my cue from Mittsy and eat a snack or take a break before hauling my butt back up there

Fans up, people! If something isn’t working for you, reposition yourself so you can take advantage of all the good things that come your way. Brace yourself against those who may want to push you out of your flow. Reach out for and be someone who lifts others up. Above all, protect AND nourish yourself so you can show the world what makes you shine.

FansUp #ColleaguesNotCompetition

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

Warning! This Article is About Managing Expectations

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I am a rabid Outlander fan. I’m a rabid book fan in general. I’m almost always delighted to see a favorite book become a movie or TV show. Over the years, I’ve noticed that there are three book adaptation fans: the ones who want the movie to be exactly like the book, the ones who are willing to accept an adaptation but will be disappointed when changes are made, and those who watch with a completely open mind, just so they can see their favorite characters brought to life. I’ll give you one guess which group enjoys adaptations the most.

Oddly enough I’m in the third group. There are some adaptations I can’t stand (I’m looking at you, Watchers), but for the most part, I am thrilled just to see the book on screen. I marvel at the #notmyjamie people who are still freaked out that the main character doesn’t look like what they pictured in their heads. Sometimes, reading what they were expecting, I honestly wonder if they ever actually read the book!

Expectations get us in trouble every time. Managing the expectations of yourself and others can save you a ton of blood, sweat, and tears in the long run.  Here are some places where we can manage expectations in the veterinary clinic to make everything run more smoothly.

1. Treatment plans/estimates

I’m still shocked when I encounter teams that don’t provide estimates for all (or almost all) clients. There is no easier way to manage expectations and avoid trouble than this. No client should EVER EVER EVER (do you need another ever??) go up to your glorious CSRs and give them grief because you didn’t tell them what to expect. I’ve heard the argument, “if clients want an estimate they can ask.” Let me tell you, as someone who lives with a person who never asks for an estimate and is often upset over the final bill, don’t make that an option. If a client regularly comes in for a service, then maybe they don’t need an estimate every time. But why set yourself up for failure by assuming a client will be OK with their bill? If their pet is hospitalized, whoever calls them with an update should also update them on the bill. EVERY DAY. Bonus points if you give them a heads up about tomorrow’s bill. Last hint: call it a treatment plan. Let’s take the emphasis off the money and put it on the medicine where it belongs. “Lynn will be in to go over your treatment plan in just a few minutes.”

2. Wait times

If your clinic runs chronically late, there are some things that need fixing. But if you are having an unusual day, have the CSRs try to give your clients a buzz to let them know. Give them the option to reschedule, drop off, or wait. Having options empowers people. Better that they CHOOSE to wait than being FORCED to wait. 

3. Understaffing

It happens to all of us way more often than it should. Do you have a plan for when someone calls in sick or goes on vacation? Consider relief technicians or veterinarians. If you have to be understaffed for a day (or more), lighten up the schedule as much as you can so you don’t have unhappy clients. Offer for non-critical cases to reschedule. If they don’t want to do that, let them know there may be a wait. 

4. Outcomes

Clients want to know a percentage of how likely their pet is to recover/live/die from their disease. We all know this is incredibly hard to predict. Clients can also be flippant about surgical complications… until they happen. If clients are going to refuse an e-collar or otherwise be noncompliant, let them know specifically but without drama what the consequences of this decision will be. Have them sign that they understand they are taking a risk and it will be their financial responsibility if it goes sideways. If they give you the impression that they aren’t going to be held accountable, consider declining to perform the procedure. 

5. Our personal boundaries

I could write a book on this one! If you know that you don’t function well in certain circumstances, it is incumbent upon you to inform the people around you. For instance, I quickly become nonfunctional without a lunch break. I get hypoglycemic which leads to being forgetful and hangry. I have had to stop working for clinics that are not concerned about lunch breaks. That isn’t a judgment on them or me… it just means it’s an environment that doesn’t suit my physical and emotional needs and abilities. If a client for some reason (and think REALLY hard before doing this) has your cell phone number or the ability to message you personally on email or social media: be sure you set some boundaries. That can simply be that this is for a one-time thing or that if you don’t answer, they need to seek help elsewhere and not wait for you to reply. 

There are so many ways in which communication and expectation management can protect us. If you’d like to avoid board complaints, lawsuits, employee issues, burnout and compassion fatigue, this is an excellent place to start. Other than unexpectedly positive patient outcomes, surprises are not a good thing in our profession. If everyone knows what’s going on and what to expect, then there isn’t nearly as much room for conflict. The less conflict we have to manage, the more time we can spend helping people and their pets.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

What’s in Your Suitcase?

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On a recent trip, I took this photograph of my family’s suitcases. Can you guess which one is mine? Did you guess “the big one”? Why? Maybe because I’m a woman, and so I must bring too many clothes? Is it because I overpack?

Well, you’re right about the suitcase, but for the wrong reasons. It hit me as my husband and I were traveling across the country: I carry a big suitcase, but it’s because I often end up with lots of extra stuff. The suitcase held all my clothes and toiletries and my pillow. What it also needed to carry was all the stuff that didn’t fit in my husband’s nice, neat, tiny suitcase. His suit in its suit bag. His airplane cushion that he decided he didn’t want to carry on for the return flights. These things fit easily into my oversized suitcase. You know, the one I had to pick up and put in the car and roll through the airport.

It got me thinking: I hear all the time that vet professionals don’t have time to get everything done. We’re harried and overworked. We never stop moving and doing. I’m beginning to understand that part of the reason we’re so busy and unhappy is that we’re carrying everyone else’s stuff in our suitcase!

Do you have any idea how much time I’d have to get stuff done if I wasn’t meal planning, cooking, making grocery lists, ordering the things we need online, doing laundry (which does not actually mean just putting it in the wash, but making sure it’s not wrinkled, folding, and putting away!). It’s not as though I think those things are “not my job”, but at some point, they became my responsibility instead of shared tasks. Why? Because I took it upon myself to do them quickly and efficiently. The same goes for taking the garbage out and trimming all the foliage in our yard – my husband gets these things done before they even cross my mind – so I let him continue to do them.

Sometimes we get so caught up in all these self-imposed time eaters that we forget we chose them. Guess what? We can un-choose them too. We can delegate them to someone else, or put them off. If we’re honest, some of them we can just stop doing altogether. Every now and then, it’s good to look at what we do in a day and see where we can trim the fat. Furthermore, if everyone in the household or clinic sat down and listed their tasks, I bet we’d find some balancing that needs to be done. There’s likely going to be some grumbling, but if no one else would swap tasks lists with you, there’s a reason why – you’re doing too much.

Take a week or two and analyze how you spend your time. If you need to, get a timeclock app or make a spreadsheet. Figure out how much time you spend sleeping, working, spending time with your family, taking care of your pets, and doing things just for you. See if there are ways for you to be more efficient. See if there are things that make you unhappy that can be eliminated. Make sure that your you-time isn’t getting neglected. If it is, put it on your calendar – along with anything else you are tempted to skip so you can work more or be more stressed.

Life is a trip, and every second of time you have has to fit in that one suitcase. Be picky about who and what gets to take up space in there. While you’re at it, remember that you have to be able to carry this thing without breaking your back. People will always ask you to pile extra stuff in your suitcase so they can have an easier trip. It’s ok to tell them no and to suggest that they might want to get a bigger suitcase of their own. If we’re smart, we may even be able to downsize because we are only carrying the things that we need to be comfortable and happy.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

What the Veterinary Profession Can Learn from NASA

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Space movies make me cry. The Martian, Apollo 13, Space Camp (yes, Space Camp – don’t judge me, I grew up in the 80s). It’s not the beauty of space or the analysis of the lives of human beings that puts me in faucet mode. It’s the NASA cheer.

I don’t know if NASA does this in real life (if they don’t, please don’t tell me). When the mission is going to hell and the NASA crew is sitting in front of glowing monitors trying to be calm, I am riveted. When they pull off the amazing save, and the astronauts *SPOILER ALERT* are rescued, the entire team jumps to its collective feet and starts cheering. They hug, and the cooler among them shake hands with grave nods and a twinkle in their eyes.

Now, I’m sure these people don’t all like each other. I’m sure they compete and argue and think about whacking each other with a hammer. Rich Parnell may have been a steely-eyed missile man, but when he accidentally dumped coffee onto the floor, somebody had to clean that up. The point is, when the chips are down, the mission is more important than how they feel about each other.

We need more of this in Veterinary Medicine.

It’s in our perfectionist nature to be critical – of each other and of ourselves. We don’t celebrate our victories nearly as much as we harp on every detail of what we consider our failures. Our staff meetings center on how we can improve, not having a mini dance party because we nailed it this month.

Yes, we have problems to solve, and the people in this profession tend to excel at solving problems. Except for the pesky problem of how to band together. There are so many reasons that we resist camaraderie. Competition, insecurity, personal problems, burnout, compassion fatigue, depression, and fear all contribute to why there is a barrier between us. We also don’t communicate (in many cases) nearly as well as we think we do. We respond with our emotions instead of listening with empathy. Imagine if that was the tactic we took with our patients…”OMG, this has to be hyperthyroidism! I just feel it! Let’s treat it without doing diagnostics and then be surprised when it blows up in our faces!” Of course, we don’t do that – we run diagnostics and confirm that this is really the problem. However, if Sheila is snappy with us in the clinic today, we’re going to assume it’s about us and go off the deep end rather than ask her what’s going on.

Veterinary medicine is hard. We can make it easier by taking care of our teams and asking them to take care of each other first. Happy teams make for outstanding customer service and patient care. If you are in a good place mentally, try a little experiment. Just for today, go into your practice with the intention to lift up those around you. You don’t have to be the boss to affect your team in a positive way. Pass out sincere compliments. Ask if you can help. Do something unexpected to take the burden off of a teammate. Pay attention to how this makes you feel. You have the power to make a change, and that change will elevate your team and YOU. If enough of us embrace rather than put up walls, we can elevate the entire profession.

We are in this together. If we shift our focus to what we are doing right (there is SO MUCH) and celebrate those victories with the enthusiasm of a bunch of brilliant nerds in horn-rimmed glasses, maybe we can see veterinary medicine for what it is: one of the best jobs in the world.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

Why I’d Rather Do Just About Anything Than Work on My Own Pets

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I’ll tell you two secrets:

  1. I hate taking care of my own (including my family’s) pets
  2. I rarely let anyone else do it.

This isn’t an indictment of my family members, their pets, or my pets. It’s an acknowledgement of the pressure (all self-induced) I feel when I don’t have that one step of distance between myself and a client/patient. This situation is actually good for me, since it helps me have empathy for my clients and their pets. I have a very good idea of what happens when they get their pets home and actually try to follow my instructions.

Many of us in the veterinary profession are perfectionists. It hurts us when things go wrong, especially when those things involve people we’ve spent our whole lives trying to please. It hurts even more when we deeply love a pet we struggle to help.

As I write, I’m sitting with my dachshund (Frieda) whose rear legs are paralyzed. My husband is out of town, so I’m all alone with my brain running amok. I’m second guessing myself and hoping I’m not the reason she becomes paralyzed or has to be euthanized. The swirling whirlpool in my head got so bad that I did something an introvert like me almost never does – I called someone for help.

“I need a real vet,” I whined into the phone. There is never a time that I feel my absence from clinics more than when one of my pets is ill.

My good friend and fellow veterinarian laughed. “You ARE a real vet!” She gets me, though, so she knew exactly what I needed.

I laid out everything like I was going to confession. I felt lighter with each word that came out of my mouth. She confirmed that I was doing the right things and reminded me what to do to monitor Frieda for changes. After all, I haven’t treated a young dog with a disc herniation in years. Then she asked me about her cat’s breathing treatments. We both left the conversation feeling better.

So many of us feel like wimps for not being “strong enough” to handle our family pets on our own. We feel like we must be failures if we have to ask for help. Yet, we lecture our clients that they shouldn’t practice medicine on their pets themselves. That’s mostly because they don’t have the knowledge that we do. But part of it is because it’s hard to be objective and do what must be done when you’re making life and death decisions about family. We encourage and expect them to ask us for help. Why shouldn’t our rules apply to us as well?

So, phone a friend. Ask a colleague to work on your pets. One of the smartest decisions I ever made was having my friend and local vet dentist perform dentistry on my pets. It’s worth the money to not agonize over every little detail.

Do whatever you have to do to make this job just a little less stressful. And remember – the next time a client is having trouble with compliance, show some compassion. Because we’ve all been there.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.