Cats, dogs and fireworks don’t mix. In this video, Dr. Roark explains why.
Life With Clients
The Truth About the Worst Part of My Job
Today an owner told me I have the worst job in the world. His reasoning was not what I expected.
Said owner’s dog was dropped off for an exam by the pet sitter. She said the dog was just not acting right. The owners were out of town and could be expected to return that evening. After a physical exam was performed, it was determined that Cooper was suffering from an oozing splenic mass. Surgery was the only option and the owners were concerned about putting their geriatric friend through the procedure and recovery, only to have a few months with him.
The owners elected to make the dog comfortable and have us do supportive care, and then they would come to the clinic when they arrived home that evening to make a decision. Cooper received injections for pain and nausea and was set up to rest in a treatment cage until his owners could come to see him. Throughout that day, the staff offered him treats and cooked chicken, attempting to get him to eat. They walked him outside and sat in the yard with him, letting him enjoy the sunshine and their company. The sadness in his eyes was contagious as he just looked to us to help him.
At the end of the day, when the owners were due to arrive any minute, Cooper coded and went into cardiac arrest. My staff began CPR on him and attempted to get in touch with his owner. The owners were five minutes away and wanted us to keep trying. Even with our best effort, Cooper was unresponsive and declared deceased. This of course happened just as the owners walked into the clinic to see their pet. The owner and his wife, along with their child, were escorted into an exam room. The doctor came into the room to discuss the situation with the owner and that Cooper had indeed passed.
The family was heartbroken. The owner wanted to come and see Cooper one last time. Cooper’s doctor walked the owner into the treatment room so he could see his friend one last time, leaving his wife and child in the room to cry together. I had prepared Cooper so his family could see him again, clean and peaceful, with his head on a blanket. Underneath, the efforts of our attempts to save him were there: IV catheters in his paws, an endotracheal tube discarded so the owner would not have to see, ECG clips still in place.
As the owner laid his head down on top of Cooper’s, he looked up and me with tears in his eyes. I put my hand on his shoulder and stood with him as he cried, shedding tears of my own. I walked the owner back into the room with his family. As he consoled his wife and child, he looked at me and said “You have the worst job in the world.” I looked down at my scrubs, covered in blood from his friend and agreed wholeheartedly, not knowing that we were talking about two different things. He proceeded to tell me how hard my job must be to have pets die, despite all we do to save them. That I have to be a part of their passing and deal with emotional owners.
I realized what he was referring to and sadly shook my head. I told him that I have the best job in the world as I can help pets to end their suffering if needed and can allow their owners to enjoy what time they have with them. I help families to learn how to care for their new puppies and kittens and do what is needed to help their sick pets get well.
I told him the worst part of my job was having to collect payment from owners once their pet had passed. Cooper’s owner looked up at me with amazement. He reached into his wallet and pulled out his credit card without hesitation. He asked why that would be difficult. Owners know that they have to pay for their services. They should know despite our efforts, they must pay for what had been done for their pet. That it is not our fault that the pet died.
I smiled as he said this and told him that that was not always the case. When money is brought into the situation it changes things for sure. Owners get defensive and money turns things ugly. Shaking his head, he just smiled sadly. Once his bill was settled, he shook my hand and hugged me, thanking me for taking my time to care for Cooper. Even though he passed, he knew I had done everything in my power to help him, and that was priceless.
About the Author
Jamie Rauscher is a Registered Veterinary Technician and Medical Manager of an eight doctor practice north of Atlanta. She is President of Georgia’s Veterinary Technician and Assistant Association and serves on several NAVTA committees. Her interests include pain management, sick pet care, and anesthesia as technician empowerment. She is currently pursuing her VTS in ECC.
Clients Behaving Badly: A Day in the Life
Recently, I saw a dog for a sarcoma. The consultation was arranged after the owner was yelling at our staff in the waiting area that he needed be seen immediately for the tumour that had been growing on his dog’s leg for the past year and was not bothering the dog. However, he had spent thousands at our hospital and demanded to be seen at once. He was told that we did not have a surgical oncology appointment available, but that he could be seen by one of the emergency doctors if he needed immediate assistance. He refused, he only wanted to see a surgical oncologist, nothing else would do and he was belligerent with everyone trying to help him.
He saw me about a week later, during a scheduled appointment. We discussed recommendations, and he argued with me about each one, telling me that he didn’t think that the workup that I recommended was necessary. In the end, he decided not to treat. As our consultation was drawing to a close, the owner nodded my way and said, “Oh, and I need some more Heartguard”. I asked him who his family veterinarian was and he said that he didn’t have one. I told him that I did not manage heartworm prevention because I am a surgical oncologist, not a general practitioner. He was not amused.
When I left the room, he asked the student to get him some heartworm medication (which she cannot do because she is not a veterinarian). Quick tangent: When my own dog developed his Florida-Allergy Dermatitis, I took him to a veterinary dermatologist (because I don’t know anything about managing itchy dogs anymore either.) The dermatology technician asked me what he was on for heartworm prevention and I said, “Advantix”. She told me it doesn’t get heartworm. I said, “It doesn’t?” then burst into tears. (Note: Rumble was negative for heartworm on two consecutive tests and is on appropriate prevention now.) My point is that I don’t even script heartworm prevention for my own pets anymore and I don’t prescribe it to my surgical oncology patients either. My other point is that I do not love being treated like someone’s Heartguard bitch. No one does.
My colleague recently told me about a stray dog that was found and brought in to the emergency hospital where he worked. The emergency doctors and technicians located and contacted the owner, who could not come and pick up her dog until the end of the day. The dog was fed, watered, walked and kept safe until his owner could collect him. When the owner (finally) came to get her dog, she was not charged anything for this good Samaritan service, but still, she complained that her dog’s nails had not been trimmed during his big day at the vet, because “That’s what vets are supposed to do.” That really happened. Who are these people?
I also recently saw a 62kg Labrador Retriever with a pathological fracture due to osteosarcoma- that is, a broken leg due to bone cancer. It’s hard to describe how obese a 62kg lab is (ed note: 136 pounds), but we had a long discussion with the owner about how I was not sure how the dog was going to do after limb amputation, but that this was the only treatment option. We also could not do a test called a bone scan to look for spread of the cancer to other bones (which I always recommend) because he was so painful and his leg was broken, we needed to address this right away and then consider a bone scan later. I also told him that I didn’t think the dog would walk for at least a month. I gave a guarded prognosis and we also talked about euthanasia, but he wanted to try.
We did an amputation. The dog proved me wrong and after some serious heavy lifting by myself and the other clinicians and staff, we had him walking with sling support within a few days and he went home. We were so happy! Then, a couple of months later, I received a personal letter at work. Usually personal letters at work are nice thank you notes from grateful clients. The letter was from this owner, he detailed that his dog had died, likely due to spread of the cancer to the spine. He closed the letter, “I hope that everyone involved received their commission. Just another business transaction.” He signed it from his dog and enclosed a picture. He also enclosed one of the super cute bandanas that I give to all of my cancer patients that say “Cancer Survivor”, only he had cut out the word “Survivor” so it just said, “Cancer”. The whole thing had a creepy serial killer vibe and was intended to make me feel awful. It did. Interestingly, academic surgeons do not make a commission and there is zero financial motivation in our casework. It is one of my favourite things about being an academic clinician.
We recently had another client whose dog had had a lung lobectomy for lung cancer and an adrenalectomy for an adrenal tumour. Everything went great and she was very grateful. When we sent the dog home on a Friday, he was discharged with all of the required medications. She then called on Saturday and said that we forgot to give her one of the medications. My intern was positive that she had it and went to great lengths to talk to her multiple times to spell out the medications on the phone and to give her instructions. He was patient and kind.
She called back again and talked to an emergency doctor, insisting that we had not sent her home with all of the medications that she needed for her dog. The doctor apologized, went over the file and called in the prescription to a pharmacy. She then called again on Monday and went over things again, realizing that she did have the medication in question all along. She then filed a complaint through our online system that we should have never called in a prescription for a medication that she already had, insisting on being reimbursed for the second prescription that she did not need.
I called her to discuss. When she realized that the lady on the phone was the same person as the surgeon who had “saved her dog’s life” she became hysterical. She said that she didn’t want me to get into trouble and didn’t want a complaint against me because she was really happy with everything that I did for her dog. I told her that we are all the same people and I just wanted to resolve things. She was clearly mortified that this seemingly anonymous complaint method had found its way back to me and was going to get me in some sort of trouble. She started crying and asked if we could just “drop it”. I told her that would be fine.
You are probably thinking, wow, that is some crazy stuff, you must have saved these stories up for years! But no, these are just a few things that happened recently that I can think of off the top of my head. Clients who lie, yell and push to get what they want is becoming so common that I could literally write a blog called “Clients Behaving Badly” about it every week.
It’s frustrating because being a veterinarian is hard enough. Being a good clinician and trying to help our patients to be as healthy as they can be, watching animals suffer at times, and letting them go when we can no longer help them is all pretty challenging. In short, being a veterinarian is hard. When clients behave badly, it makes our first task, caring for the patient, much more difficult.
So, to all of you naughty clients out there: We know you are stressed, we know this is your fur baby. We are here to help you. Mistreating your veterinarian will not make the care better. It might make it worse. If you really feel like your veterinarian is not on the up and up, you should not entrust them with your pet’s care. Trust is the foundation of our veterinarian-client-patient relationship. I honestly do not want to do surgery on a dog or cat with an owner who does not inherently feel that they trust me and that my sole motivation is to work in their pet’s best interest. I know it is hard to be good, but please don’t make a stressful day for you even more stressful by bringing your bad behaviour.
Be good. Sit, stay.
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.
10 Wrong Things Pet Owners Say About My Salary
“I bet I paid for this exam room.”
“That’s a nice wedding ring, bet my dog’s bills paid for that.”
“I bet you live in a giant mansion with all the money you have made off my cat.”
“I put your kids through college.”
“I paid for all those cruise vacations.”
“Is that your Lexus that I just parked next to?”
“Vet bills weren’t so high until vets decided they needed to drive Mercedes and live in gated communities.”
“ You probably buy a new car every month.”
“I’ll bet you had a good Christmas after doing my dog’s surgery.”
“Well I guess the kids won’t get Christmas gifts this year. Hope you enjoy yours!”
All of these are real quotes stated by real owners.
Veterinarians are doctors. Let’s repeat that, we are DOCTORS! We have gone through the same training and dedicated our lives to the same level of medicine as our human counterparts. But when it comes to respect and wages, we seem to be stuck. Most people see human doctors as deserving of their large wages, nice cars, and expensive houses. It’s a mark of a good human doctor to have it all. It’s accepted that our human counterparts make good money and deserve it. So why are veterinarians consistently made to feel bad if they make a living wage?
We are not rich. Veterinarians make between $50-80k per year depending on experience and area of practice. Sometimes specialists will make a good amount more than that. But compared to human physicians we make about 1/3- 2/3 of their annual salary. We put the same amount of time and studying into our degree but at this time our wages do not reflect it. Next time you tell a veterinarian that they are just in it for the money just remember that with our wages there is no way your statement could be true.
Another misconception is that for every test we suggest we are making extra money off of your animal. We aren’t! Most of us work on a salary. Some get bonus money depending on if we had a good month but no veterinarian is suggesting blood work or x-rays on your animal to make 100 bucks extra that month. We suggest those things because your pet is sick and we want to figure out what is wrong with it.
The same idea goes for recommending a specialty diet or a specific medication. We do not get paid by pet food companies or drug representatives to push certain products. We will occasionally get free click pens or a “lunch and learn” to discuss new products, but let me tell you, a free pen and a slice of pizza aren’t going to sway me to push a product. In fact, most veterinarians will try to find substitute medications or script out products if they are cheaper at an outside pharmacy. We want your pet to get better, not for you to have to struggle with paying its bills.
Another issue is the price of veterinary care depends on the region. The care may be the same but unfortunately, the cost of living and keeping a veterinary clinic afloat does differ whether you are in a rural area or a large city. We aren’t ripping you off when the big city vet costs twice as the rural vet- we are just trying to pay our staff, keep the lights on, and also make a living ourselves.
Speaking of making a living for ourselves, we shouldn’t have to feel bad if we do have a nice car, or a large house, or a beautiful engagement ring. Most of the time those nice things aren’t because of our wages but most likely the wages of our significant other. You see us veterinarians make very little and graduate with large amounts of debt. Most of us are paying 2000-3500k per month in student loans. Due to this we usually are driving old cars, renting our houses, and buying ramen noodles to survive. If we do make a little extra because we kicked butt during a specific month and we get some bonus money, why can’t we celebrate that accomplishment without clients thinking we are “all about the money?”
It is truly a catch 22-type situation. We are proud of what we do, just like our human counterparts, but we are constantly told we just want money to pay for our expensive lifestyle and veterinary practice. The misconceptions are many and when we try to explain the reality we are shut down. Honestly though, do you think it’s okay to make the comments stated above towards anyone at their place of work? Maybe that is a whole other subject entirely….
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 a Tough Week Taught Me About Life With Pets
Today was mentally taxing. It was the kind of day where you realize that you’ve been working for eleven hours and you’ve only had a granola bar. When your head finally hits a pillow, you’re so tired the room is spinning but you can’t shut your brain off. My alarm will buzz in five hours, but I’m hoping that pounding out some musings will settle my mind a bit.
We diagnosed some awesome patients with awful disease processes this week and it sucked. A patient I’ve been seeing since my first week at my current clinic crashed after perfect routine bloodwork three weeks ago. Another started having violent cluster seizures after a lifetime of good control. Another with well-controlled kidney disease developed acute-on-chronic kidney failure. Another with aggressive bone disease sustained a pathologic fracture. And still another developed respiratory distress secondary to severe tracheal collapse. We ended up euthanizing some of them.
Whenever humane end of life comes up, I think about my experience with one of my dogs. I didn’t realize how much I’d still miss her months later and I hate it when my clients begin that journey with their own pets, but every time I discuss euthanasia I silently thank her for the perspective she gave me. She allows me to identify with clients who are struggling with The Decision; I can tell them how my husband and I made The Decision and chose the timing. I think some people prefer to let their pets go while they still have some happiness left, and others prefer to wait until they’ve exhausted every last bit of happiness together. I was surprised to find out that we are the first type—the opposite of what I thought we’d be.
As usual, my dogs greeted me with wagging tails when I walked through the door this evening. They each received two pats on the neck and then I tried to ignore them while they followed me around. My husband caught on and asked me why I was avoiding them. After thinking for a moment, I realized that I was trying to distance myself physically and emotionally. Days like this cause me to imagine that I’m in my clients’ shoes and my own pets are suffering from the heartbreaking things I’ve seen. I guess my subconscious thought that if I start building a wall between us, it won’t hurt so much when we have to make The Decision again.
I told my husband this and he stared at me before he responded. “Do you want them to just be passengers in our lives? What’s the point of that?” Well, shoot. He’s right. They deserve walks, car rides, spontaneous treats, new squeaky toys to rip open, and the kind of scratches that make them lean into your hand. We should be making the kind of memories that tear your heart open when they’re gone but later make you laugh and help you patch it together again.
A veterinary oncologist I greatly admire says that pets don’t live as long as us because it’s easier for us to understand life without them, than for them to understand life without us. We build bonds with them knowing that our hearts will eventually be broken. I think about this every time we take in a new pet, but I choose to welcome them with shiny tags and open arms anyways. Days like this remind me that we need to live life enjoying what’s in front of us like our pets do, not thinking about what’s to come.
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.
Are You Breaking the 6 Commandments of Professional Courtesy?
In veterinary school, our ER clinicians had one rule that still sticks with me today: “Never talk badly about the referring DVM to a client.” One important reason for this rule is that the client’s report of what the other vet said may not be exactly accurate.
Whether the client was distracted by emotional distress or just plainly misunderstood, it’s not uncommon for the original veterinarian’s intent to become misinterpreted in that game of telephone. “The other vet said to give omega 7 skinny acid, purple-monkey-dishwasher.” Hmm, that doesn’t sound quite right. (And congratulations to anyone who caught that reference to an early TV episode of a certain yellow cartoon family.)
Now let’s address the more uncomfortable situation when you know exactly what was done and disagree with a colleague’s treatment plan. We often encounter this in multi-doctor hospitals or between competing practices. It’s common, especially in this current era, to be critical of colleagues if they are doing something differently than you.
Even though our profession has standards of practice, few veterinarians have exactly the same preferences. What do you say when your preference is different than the previous vet? And while you’re contemplating that question, also put yourself in the other vet’s shoes. How would you want a vet who disagrees with you to speak with your client?
[tweetthis]Are You Breaking the 6 Commandments of Professional Courtesy?[/tweetthis]
Here are my 6 “Courtesy Commandments” for respectfully disagreeing with a veterinary colleague. (And yes, I realize if I say “commandment”, there should probably be 10 of them. Please have the courtesy to let that detail slide.)
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Never bad-mouth another veterinarian in front of a client.
Just don’t do it. This is my most important “Courtesy Commandment.” I understand it can be tempting, but tearing down a colleague is not the best way to build yourself up. Okay, maybe in the short term some clients will respond to this and only want to schedule appointments with you, but you will lose respect from your colleagues.
Especially if you do this to the other vets in your own practice, it will create a toxic working environment. Don’t be that vet that all the other vets hate. Also, remember that game of telephone? The same philosophy applies here when a client reports back about what you said. Having a client tell another vet that you said they do things incorrectly is a bad idea. Bad idea. You’re just asking for your words to be misconstrued, which could come back to haunt you. Don’t fall into that trap.
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Acknowledge what the other vet did correctly and what you learned from what the other vet has already done.
If the patient did not respond well to the previous veterinarian’s treatment, explain what you can infer from that and why you would like to take a different approach. This is extremely important if the client is complaining about vets who also work in your practice. Those vets may not get a chance to defend themselves, so this is your chance to take a moment to have their backs and restore the client’s confidence in them even though their initial choices may not have been successful.
Hopefully your co-workers will have the same professional courtesy for you, too. I would also wish that even competitors could show each other similar courtesy. Maybe that’s unrealistic, but can’t I dream about a wonderful veterinary utopia where everyone is nice to everyone?
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Avoid using negative phrases when discussing previous treatments a patient received, and instead focus on what your plan is now.
This doesn’t throw the other vet under the bus, but instead builds the client’s confidence in you because your goal is moving forward to make their pet better.
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Explain to the owner why you prefer something different.
You can still be a good advocate for your methods without putting down your colleagues. For example, try to get the owner excited about doing something different by explaining why you personally prefer that option. Attempt to put more effort into explaining the benefits of your preference than into emphasizing the negatives of the previous treatment.
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Don’t be afraid to continue treatments that are working.
If the client is very happy with a previous treatment that is working and that treatment does not put the patient’s health at risk, then consider continuing the previous treatment even if it’s not how you usually would approach that case. To clarify, I’m not encouraging you to blindly continue treatments you are uncomfortable with. Still, try to keep an open mind. Discovering that a treatment different than your preference works best for that pet is not a defeat. That’s just the nature of medicine. You may just learn a new approach that could be used for your other patients in the future.
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If you truly believe another veterinarian made a mistake, discuss that directly with the veterinarian.
I want to acknowledge there is a huge difference between disagreeing over a preferred treatment and recognizing a colleague is practicing inappropriate medicine. I still believe the above suggestions are a good guideline of professional courtesy toward each other, but I concede that special situations exist. There are protocols in place for reporting malpractice, but I would recommend speaking with that veterinarian first. That is the kind of professional courtesy I would hope someone would have for me if the tables were turned.
Veterinary medicine is a small profession. We need to have each other’s backs. Veterinarians will never agree on everything, but that’s okay. Disagreement is healthy and promotes progress in our profession and our individual hospitals. My utopian dreamland where all vets just get along will never exist. However, I think discussion of disagreements must be conducted in a respectful manner, especially in front of clients. Hopefully these “Courtesy Commandments” encourage that. We have enough drama to deal with. We don’t need to add any purple-monkey-dishwashers.
[tweetthis]Veterinary medicine is a small profession. We need to have each other’s backs.[/tweetthis]
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.