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There I Said It

There, I Said it: I’m Sorry I Judged You

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A client came into the clinic with her ancient dog for an appointment. Fluffy really needed to cross the Rainbow Bridge… like, two months before. This dog was receiving subcutaneous fluids for renal failure, and the owner insisted that the poor creature was still running and frolicking at home. We all found this hard to believe, since we had to administer the treatment while Fluffy was in lateral recumbency. She had to be on her side; she could barely lift her head.

The judgment in the treatment room was strong. Murmurs grew against the client: how cruel it was that she insisted on treating Fluffy when she was clearly suffering, how we wished we could put the dog out of her misery. A couple of vets already gave her the “Come to Jesus” talk, but the client wouldn’t budge.

I felt so awful for your beloved dog, but not for the reasons you may think. I have the same disease as Fluffy.

Yes, the technician that gave Fluffy her SQs is in renal failure.

I’m on the kidney transplant list and doing my best to keep my head above water at work. Every time I have a patient with CKD, it haunts me a little. I scan their blood work and compare their numbers to mine. I take a history and note that my patient is vomiting a few times a week. I did the same thing when my numbers looked like hers, and I know what’s coming for her. Anemia is not kind. The insomnia, the nausea, and the confusion are crippling. The treatment options are just that, treatments. There is no cure. And the treatments are only temporary bandaids.

One shift we had three patients in a row that were newly diagnosed with CKD, first thing in the morning. I wanted to cry, seeing room after room of clients, their faces contorting at the news. I imagine mine did the same thing in front of my doctor when I found out I have CKD.

I also know how much it sucks to have a beloved pet with renal failure. The whole thing hit home for me when my old kitty went in for blood work a couple of months ago. Besides his other numerous issues (I’m a technician, and it’s nearly required by law that I have a pet with issues), his renal values are creeping up. The clumps in the litterbox grow larger, and the water bowl empties faster. I know it’s just a matter of time before I’m bringing him in for a date with the pink juice.

Last weekend was a bad one for my kitty: lots of vomit, lots of confused yowling. I thought we’d be lucky if we made it to Monday, and I checked to see who the weekend on call DVM was, just in case. While discussing euthanasia with my spouse, the cat jumped on my lap and head-butted me while purring. The little !@#!. I started to cry.

I couldn’t do it. He’s still around, and I’ve blown through a bottle of Nature’s Miracle.

Dear client, I’m sorry I judged you. I’m sorry for contributing to the negative clinic chatter about how selfish you are, and how the huge needle is just torture for Fluffy three times a week. I’m sorry you’re watching her go downhill, and there’s not much you can do at this late stage.

And I’m sorry for the technicians that have to watch the horror show every treatment. I wonder how my spouse will handle my treatment, when dialysis comes. I wonder if transplant will happen for me, and if I will ever work full time as an on the floor technician again, or if my days “teching” are gone forever. I wonder what I will feel like, when my BUN and creatinine rival your pet’s values. Will I be able to lift my head, or will I rest in lateral?

I’m sorry for us all. It’s a horrible disease.

I don’t know your personal reasons for keeping Fluffy alive, but I’m sure they are important to you. I’d love to hear the story of how Fluffy came into your life, and what she means to you. And yes, when you realize it’s time to free Fluffy from her suffering, I’ll be relieved for her, but I’ll also cry with you for your loss.

My illness has led me to be a more compassionate technician, and I’ve gotten quite comfortable discussing treatments and medications and diets with clients. I just need to remember what it looks like from the other side of the table, the client’s side.

Sincerely,

A Very Exhausted RVT

There I Said It

 

The views and opinions featured on There, I Said It are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

There, I Said It: I Do Vaccine Clinics and Don’t Apologize For It

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I have had former bosses tell me that people like me are ruining the future of our profession. I have seen people post online about how vaccine clinics will ruin our business.

There, I said it: I don’t care what you think. I do low cost vaccine clinics to serve the community and help animals and owners. I make the community a better place.

I work with a local spay/neuter 501-c3 group to provide low cost vaccines. The average wait time where I work is one to two hours. The lobby is crowded, dogs bark non-stop, and this is the first time many of these dogs or cats have ever left the yard or house.

Most people have to choose between rabies shots and heartworm tests. The rabies shot costs $10, the exam is $10, but adding another $15 for the heartworm test will break the bank.

I vaccinated, heartworm tested, or microchipped 76 dogs in four hours today. Many dogs were petrified and many large dogs tried to bite. This was the first time they have ever been touched!

I educated every single family today about heartworm disease and benefits of spay and neuter. I discussed parvo and reasons to deworm with every single puppy owner I saw today.

If you work ER, this is one less parvo puppy to die in your lobby because it costs hundreds or thousands to treat. If you work general practice then this is one less dystocia dog whose owners can’t afford a c-section because now they understand why they should spay and made an appointment for the low cost clinic.

I refuse to be made to feel like less of a vet because I perform this valuable service to people willing to wait hours to have these services done.

We need to do a better job of explaining the value of our full clinic services and why exams and preventive care is important and worth the investment.

We also should explain that our vaccine clinic is subsidized with grants and staffed with volunteers to reduce the costs so no, your vet is not ripping you off!

In the meantime, there will be Walmart style vaccine clinics who serve a need for those who struggle to afford veterinary care. That’s one less puppy dying from parvo. You’re welcome.

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.

There, I Said It: Not My Circus and Not My Fleas

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I want to dedicate this to all my fellow associate veterinarians, veterinary technicians, and vet assistants… basically anyone who doesn’t own or run the clinic.  You’ve got a difficult and challenging, yet rewarding job.  Don’t worry, the managers and owners have their own sets of challenges and tasks to take care of because they have a lot of responsibility.  But your job has its limits and it very likely isn’t your show to run.

Now this may sound awkward, but yes, it’s not your circus. This may bring a flood of conflicting emotions, or maybe it won’t.  Many of us in the veterinary field are those type “A” personalities.  We want to take charge, make change, do things for the greater good.  Yet, for a large number of us, this may not seem possible and it can get very frustrating.  This may bring on a whole new level of stress or displeasure in your job.  You may choose to quit, let your job performance suffer, or lash out at co-workers.  This was me….and I hated my job but also the stress I had let creep into my life.  It’s difficult but – stop.

Some of those things you might think are so important or other facets of running the clinic you might think are crucial or the most important things in your day aren’t.  Face it; some things just aren’t yours to deal with and that’s okay.  If you keep jumping in to take charge, it’s an excess burden on yourself but you’re also usually picking up the slack for somebody else.  People need to be accountable for their own responsibilities.  This doesn’t mean that you can’t help but instead of taking charge, ask what you can do to help.  Let someone else take the lead.

Remember, above all other things, you have one job to focus on…the welfare and care of animal patients and their families.  You may be asked to help out or work on projects that will ultimately help the clinic reach that goal but that means that you should not focus your energy on seeking those things out especially if the animals aren’t all taken care of first.  Trust me, running around like a bull in a china shop with ideas is not the way to get things done.  It might feel good to vent all those ideas, concerns, or problems, but chances are less than 25% of it will actually lead to the change you want to see.

You may be in a unique position.  Chances are you may have experience at another veterinary clinic and have some valid ideas.  Ask yourself though, what your reason for getting involved is or what will it do to you in terms of your time and energy?  Take that moment to step back, think, and maybe don’t spearhead the project.  There’s a time and a place to share and try to implement some positive changes so that everyone can benefit. Remember, “not your circus, not your fleas.”

There I Said It

The views and opinions featured on There, I Said It are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

There, I Said It: I Feel Like I Have to Keep Secrets

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I know a thing or two about stigma. I have a secret.  Make that two.  Some people know part of this, some of them know both parts, most don’t know either.  I no longer know how to rank which secret is darker, especially in the intolerant climate of social media today.

About a year ago I had bariatric surgery.  I had reached the point where I had to make more drastic changes in my life and I had to admit I couldn’t do it on my own.

The sleeve gastrectomy was the path I choose after countless diets, countless failed attempts, years of therapy, and not being able to bear the weight of me any longer.  Why didn’t I try harder, have I tried this diet or that diet, have I tried loving me, have I tried going to the gym?

I’ve heard all the questions and I can feel the weight of judgement settle on me, nearly as heavy as the other me I have lost.  That’s the first secret I’m letting you in on.

I got sucked in the other day to post on the Veterinary Nursing Initiative.  Alright, that’s not true, I got sucked into the comments.  I sat up that night thinking about the parallels between the comments section on this post on that feed and the comment section on any post about bariatric surgery.

Some people were positive, some people were negative, some people were angry, some people were scared, some were belligerent, some were accusational, some clearly had their own agenda, and some were curious.

Here’s the thing, here’s my other secret: I am an alternate route credentialed veterinary technician.  I did not graduate from a two year, or a four year program.  I was on the job trained, I took a completely legal, state board approved alternate route program, passed my test with high marks, paid my licensing fees, and became credentialed.

I contribute actively to the veterinary community and have kept my license active through extensive (far more than required) continuing education.

There are people in those comments, who like those in the bariatric comments, believe I don’t deserve to be where I am.  That some how my journey is invalidated because of the route I took to get here.  They believe I am a fraud.

Veterinary team members are known for their nearly boundless compassion for patients.  If only this translated to compassion for co-workers and community members.

The pervasive negativity in the conversations surrounding any trending topic in veterinary medicine is isolating.  It contributes to the mental health crisis our community faces.  While I don’t need to share my path with anyone, the commentary I read on social media makes it far less likely that I will expose myself to the imposter accusations. This means my support network has shrunk significantly.

The isolation puts me at higher risk for depression and anxiety and my shrinking support network increases my risk of getting help when I need it, which, because of the isolation, I will.  The stigma surrounding my needing help will also dissuade me from reaching out.

After all, I’m aware of how the community views me and I know that I will need to make myself even more vulnerable in order to ask for help.

The veterinary community has a long way to go to be a safe space for someone who is ready to admit they need help.  Will you take that first step with me?  I know, that first step is scary, but here are four things you need to know about mental health, stigma, and the veterinary community.

If you hold onto this, it’ll help you maintain the balance as you take those steps.

1.  Needing help isn’t criminal.

2.  There will always be supporters and saboteurs.  Be the supporter.

3.  There isn’t just one path.

4.  You can be anything. Be kind.

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The views and opinions featured on There, I Said It are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

There, I Said It: I Want to Be a Stay-at-Home Mom

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I saw a PostSecret recently.  It was a postcard of the Stanford campus and said, “Stanford. I am ashamed to admit to my friends that even though I go to one of the top universities in the country, all I want to do is be a stay-at-home mom.”

I may not have attended one of the top universities in the country, but I was accepted into one of the most rigorous professions. I worked hard to be admitted to veterinary school. I studied and trained through blood, sweat, and tears to become a veterinarian.  I also struggled through blood, sweat, and tears to become a mother, and the day I gave birth and held my child as a mother I hold in infinitely higher regard than the day I walked across the stage and held my diploma as a veterinarian.

While I whole-heartedly intended on practicing for a good many years, when I had a child, all that changed.

I define myself as a veterinarian and a mother, and while there are many who succeed at combining the two, the demands of each in my case have fought a battle of time and love.  On the one hand, I want my child to see me working, having a career.  I do not want to lose the knowledge and skills I worked so hard to gain.  But on the other hand, I want to be there for my child, to be present, to be a teacher and a mother.  In the end, mother > veterinarian, for now.

My child is only going to be young for a short time.  Maybe when my child starts school, I will be able to make amends with my veterinarian-self and reconcile mother and veterinarian to go back to work.  In the meantime, I am privileged and oh-so-fortunate to be able to be a stay-at-home mom.  While I was ashamed to say it before, I will proudly say it now, “I love being a stay-at-home mom.”

I hope the Stanford student can work through her shame as I have done (although some shame will always linger in the background when seeing old classmates, friends, colleagues), and realize that being a stay-at-home mom is a worthy endeavor to be proud of.

The views and opinions featured on There, I Said It are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.

There, I Said It: Cats Aren’t Low Maintenance Pets

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For decades, cats have been considered low-maintenance pets. You would put food in a bowl and your cat lounged around your house, getting steadily fatter, until eventually it passed away. You could just let it outside for a while, if you needed to. Cats were easy – easier than dogs, for sure. Cats required little from pet owners and from veterinarians.

This mentality still persists among a large segment of the population, and it needs to change. If I hear one more person say, “it’s just a cat”, or “she’s sure needing a lot for a cat”, I may scream – or get my cat to claw some eyes out. The truth is, cats don’t bring in as much money for vet clinics as dogs do. Less than 50% of all owned cats will visit the vet each year. People are reluctant to spend as much money on their cats as they are on their dogs, and their expectations are far lower for what a cat will require. Did you know that cats should be on heartworm and flea preventive too? That you can – and should – learn to trim their nails, instead of getting annoyed when they scratch you? That cats deserve annual veterinary exams, since they age much faster than humans, and appropriate vaccination even if they live indoors?
Face it, world – the days of treating your cat as though they require nothing but food are over. You don’t have to walk your cat, but you do need to clean their litter box daily to keep it a pleasant, odor-free bathroom spot. You don’t need to play fetch with them, but you DO need to play with them – be it with a laser pointer, squeaky toy, catnip, or other way of providing a stimulating environment. You do need to provide a balanced, healthy diet for them – defy the common myth that cats just “get fat” as they age. Don’t just fill a bowl with food and leave them alone for days at a time – cats crave affection, touch, and attention as much as dogs, and they’ll wonder where you’ve gone and when you’ll get back.
When your cat is acting strange, don’t call them an “a**hole cat” or dismiss it with “cats are weird” or another platitude. Instead of being upset that your cat only eats food from the center of her bowl, research whisker fatigue and understand why it may be uncomfortable for her to eat from a bowl vs a plate. If your cat stops jumping or playing, using their litter box, or eating – take them to a veterinarian. Run tests. Spend money. Learn how to give them medication, and work proactively with your vet if it’s difficult. There’s been great advances in cat medication, from flavored liquids, to obscuring bad tastes with sweet ones, to transdermal formulations that can simply be rubbed into the ear.
Cats are no longer being treated as small dogs in veterinary medicine, and they deserve their owners to step up just as much. If your cat is stressed, figure out why and learn how you can make their environment more comfortable for them. Cats are so sensitive that even rearranging furniture can send them into a tailspin. Afford them the same amount of time, attention – and, yes, money – as you would a new puppy. Cats can even be trained – everything from sitting and shaking, to the ‘place’ command, to where is an appropriate place to scratch – if you have the patience and good rewards. Research why your cat reacts the way that they do, and why they have the needs that they have, instead of accepting half-truths, myths, and the pervasive stereotype that cats are just jerks. Your vet team is a great resource for fact-based cat knowledge.
The days of a cat being “just a cat” are ending, and it’s time to once and for all show that mentality the door. Don’t bring a cat into your home and expect it to be a ‘low-maintenance’ animal that will never be inconvenient, sick, or needy. Don’t bring a cat into your home if you’re not up to the challenge of giving these amazing animals a fulfilling, comfortable, healthy, and rewarding life.

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The views and opinions featured on There, I Said It are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the position of the DrAndyRoark.com editorial team.