One of the things that makes me so passionate about this field is the adrenaline that comes with it. The awesome feeling of a correct diagnosis. The self-esteem boost when a sick patient goes home after an extended stay. The rush of adrenaline when you go into an emergency surgery and walk out of the OR hours later feeling like a genuine bad ass. When a case is critical, and you pull them from their journey to the great white light. These thrills are what keep me going when I am hungry, tired or feel like giving up. I think a lot of us are drawn to vet med for the waves of that make us feel like superheroes.
It Can’t Be All Highs
Here’s the things with waves though. There are the highs and lows. I could bore you with the details of gravitational pulls effect on the ocean, but I suggest you search YouTube for Bill Nye to recap this for you. My point here is this: those highs we get from adrenaline won’t last forever. I don’t think any of us would really want them to. Can you imagine living a life that was full of chaos and adrenaline inducing stimuli with no reprieve? It’s simply not sustainable. The rush I get from doing CPR on a patient who’s coded is dulled by the reality of it not working. The reality of having to inform the owners and listen to them grieve. The reality of having to go into the next appointment and tell the next client how cute Fluffy is while replaying what could have gone differently in my head.
There is also the mundane. There’s writing up charts, checking boxes and what seems to be endless amounts of paperwork. There is discussing ear infections, allergies and FLEAS. I have spent over a decade of my life having the flea conversation. Although I have tried every angle to keep it interesting, there is only so many ways one can discuss fleas. But I will discuss it again and likely almost every day of my career. That’s ok. It’s part of the job. There’s the days that nothing exciting happens. Where you wake up, go to work, do your job and go home. Sleep. Then repeat. The thing about this profession is that it isn’t always going to be exciting. There isn’t always going to be fireworks and it won’t always feel like it’s your calling. I live and breathe this field, but it would be far-sighted to imagine that I am going to be passionate about it every day.
I try to think of vet med like a relationship. If you have a relationship that has stayed passionate every day for years, I would like to buy you a coffee. (Folgers, not Starbucks. I am a technician.) No, seriously that’s awesome. But there are some of us out there who still love our partner yet acknowledge the fact that the sound of their snoring is obnoxious. Some who lay next to their person bed while marathoning OITNB and comfortable not uttering a word to each other for hours. Those who wake up next to their person and still need to get their morning coffee in (Folgers, not Starbucks.) before allowing them to speak. But we still love them. It’s comfortable love and that’s ok too.
Comfortable love is still love worth having. Nothing in our life will be forever exciting. There will be days when you are bored, tired, and unenthusiastic. But you can still love the profession. Vet med isn’t always going to be glamorous or sexy. It won’t always have the drama of a well-scripted TV series. There will be wins, losses and the stuff in between. Some days we save lives, some days we talk about fleas. The balance is what makes it beautiful.
