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Category: Students

  • Is puppy yoga flexibly ethical?

    Is puppy yoga flexibly ethical?

    Is puppy yoga the new cat café?

    Is it a new passing trend or here to stay?

    Either way, as a student with a passion for both fitness and animals, I was initially intrigued. But I can’t help but have concerns for whether this practice is beneficial for all members of the class.

    Five freedoms

    Usually applied to the context of captive animals, the five freedoms can really be utilised to evaluate the welfare of any animal outside of its natural habitat (which, technically, every dog is).

    These being freedom from pain and disease, stress, discomfort and hunger, as well as freedom to express normal behaviour.

    My main concerns when it comes to puppy yoga would be stress, hunger and disease.

    If classes run back to back, younger animals that require more frequent feeds may miss out on vital mealtimes, and there’s always the worry some puppies included in these classes are too young to be removed from their mothers. Ideally, no puppy should be removed from the dam or weaned before eight weeks of age. In larger breeds, puppies can appear older than they really are, and some breeders or yoga studios may be motivated by profits to use pups that are slightly shy of this age limit.

    The danger here is that puppies don’t typically receive vaccinations until they’re eight weeks old, and if puppies from different litters are introduced when their mother-derived immunity is lowering, diseases can be transmitted very quickly. Most vets wouldn’t advise mixing a puppy with other dogs until at least two weeks after its second vaccines (at around 12 weeks old) to allow adequate immunity to develop.

    In regard to stress, anything new or novel can be stressful to a puppy (or any animal for that matter). Loud noises, strange smells and lots of new people all at once can also be very overwhelming and scary to puppies that are yet to be properly socialised.

    Socialisation

    The socialisation window for puppies is from when they are roughly one to three months old. During this time, the animal’s perceptions of the outside world and its stimuli are being shaped by its experiences, and once that window closes, it can be more difficult for biases towards certain stimuli to be changed.

    Since the majority of puppies used in yoga sessions are between two to four months old, on paper, the practice sounds like an excellent opportunity for animal lovers to exercise and unwind surrounded by adorable puppies, with the added benefit of those puppies being socialised to grow up more well-rounded and well-behaved pets.

    Unfortunately, however, socialisation is not an exact science, and while it is incredibly beneficial to introduce puppies to lots of different things during their socialisation window, it does not mean flooding them with lots of stimulus all at once.

    This is the really tricky part, because what counts as “overwhelming” to one puppy may be completely manageable to the next. Some animals may find a room full of new people and smells incredibly exciting, while others need to be introduced to new people one at a time, with plenty of opportunity to withdraw from the experience if needed.

    It can also be impossible to predict what type of puppy you have until you place it in that situation. While a lot of behavioural aspects in our pets can be traced back to environment and genetics, every animal is unique, and just because a litter comes from docile, friendly and outgoing parents, doesn’t mean the offspring will share the same traits.

    Ensuring every puppy’s experience of a yoga session will be adequate from a welfare perspective would take a very knowledgeable and conscientious screening process that some businesses may not know how to or be able to provide.

    Yoga “pants”

    I feel that puppy yoga is probably far from a black and white picture, with the level of puppy welfare and attention to their needs varying from practice to practice. For this reason, I think it’s definitely a good idea to do your research before booking a session – whether you’re a vet or not – to make sure you’re happy with where the puppies come from, if the establishment is aware of vaccine records (and so forth), and if the puppies are given adequate opportunity to rest and retreat from engaging with the customers if they wish.

    In the same way that in the veterinary profession we are now seeing the outcomes of puppies raised during the pandemic lockdowns, we may soon see the influence of puppy yoga in the next generation of pets.

    At the end of the day, it’s up to the individual consumer to decide if the practice is for them, or if ethical puppy yoga is a bit of a stretch…

     

  • Are rabbits really ‘exotic’?

    Are rabbits really ‘exotic’?

    According to PDSA [PDSA Animal Wellbeing (PAW) Report 2022], rabbits are the third most popular pet in the UK behind dogs and cats. With an estimated 1.1 million pet rabbits in the country, that’s about about a tenth of the population of pet dogs and cats, which hover around the 9 to 10 million mark.

    So, if the pet ratio of dogs/cats:rabbits is 10:1, why isn’t this reflected in our teaching? Despite rabbit populations being endemic to the UK for more than a thousand years, they always seem to get lumped with guinea pigs and the cold-blooded pets like lizards and corn snakes when it comes to textbooks or university curriculums.

    I can confidently say my education on rabbit physiology and medicine has been dramatically less than 10% of what I’ve received for small animal medicine. Perhaps this is why many vets, especially new or recent graduates, feel more confident handing off any rabbit patients to the resident “expert” of the practice or even referring to an exotics specialist, rather than seeing it themselves.

    Accessibility

    It’s a sad truth that the less convenient education and health care are to access, the less people will reach for them. By extension, the less veterinary practices that advertise care for rabbits (and other exotics), the less rabbits are likely to be registered at a practice and receive regular preventive care.

    For example, as a native to the land of Kent, I only know of two or three practices that would call themselves “exotic specialists” and I know that, for a lot of rabbit owners, traveling half way across the county to visit one of these few practices would not be practical or plausible. Perhaps this is why, according to PDSA reports, at least 11% of pet rabbits receive no preventive health care, including vaccinations.

    rabbit
    Rabbits are a social species that has evolved to live in groups, not alone.

    Education

    The value of a veterinary consultation is not simply to talk through clinical signs or address a flea outbreak in the home, it’s a chance for owners to discuss management issues or to ask for general advice. When rabbits aren’t brought in for routine consultations, then discussions about their diet, husbandry and behavioural needs don’t get to be had.

    Some vets are already worried that the development of an annual rabbit haemorrhagic disease (RHD) booster rather than biannual is going to dramatically reduce rabbit welfare by halving the number of times these pets receive a clinical exam.

    Welfare

    Of course, like all “exotics”, there’s the argument to be made as to whether these animals are suitable pets in the first place. Personally, I feel that this is a moot point for the time being.

    The fact that more than 50% of pet rabbits are housed by themselves with no companionship speaks volumes about the lack of knowledge the general public possesses on how to care for these animals. However, with more than a million of them currently out there, they’re not going away anytime soon.

    The best we can do as professionals is educate our clients so welfare can be maximised as much as possible… and that starts with educating ourselves. I hope that in the near future the landscape of the veterinary degree can shift to better reflect the current demand for exotic vets – or at least rabbit vets.

  • Fuelling your career

    Fuelling your career

    The cost of living has risen sharply in the past year. Food, bills, and fuel costs seem suddenly extortionate and yet student loans haven’t budged an inch – meaning students are paying more for food, bills and other essentials than ever before, with relatively less financial aid.

    Vet students in particular are no strangers to stretching the pound – we’re in it for the long haul after all, so five to six years of rent, utilities and food, with little to no income is something most of us have to accept as par for the course.

    The tricky thing is that while food bills can be lowered by steering free of Deliveroo and “Taste the Difference”, and opting for the simpler things in life, and a couple of extra jumpers helps lower heating costs in the winter, there’s really no way of getting around the current fuel crisis.

    You’ll go far

    The reality of EMS in the current climate is that many students are still trying to replace pre-clinical and clinical placements that were cancelled during the pandemic, and a lot of veterinary conglomerates have contractual obligations to a specific university.

    With the number of vet schools on the rise, “freelance” placements are going to become thinner on the ground, and if (like me) you live close to one of these vet schools, you may need to travel farther afield for your EMS placements.

    This means not only has the cost of living increased for students in general, but the cost of education for veterinary students is also on the up.

    Automotive breakdown

    For the average engine, the cost of a mile’s journey in June was 16p (according to the RAC Fuel and Mileage calculator), whereas placements can range from within walking distance to over an hour’s drive away. If a student has a daily commute of just 13 miles (roughly a 15 to 20 minute drive) each way, for two weeks – even if they let their car run right down to the red – they’d still be spending more than £40 on fuel.

    For longer commutes, or ones where vets expect students to follow in their own cars on callouts, it’s easy to see how the costs can get out of control.

    Covering costs

    Veterinary students are required to fulfil a minimum 26 weeks of work experience during their clinical years. For those unable to find placements near their university or home accommodation, or unable to find affordable accommodation near the placement itself, commuting is a necessity to gain the experience and accreditation needed for their degree.

    For a long time the veterinary industry has been striving to improve its inclusivity and accessibility, but with fuel prices hitting an all-time high this year, travel bursaries may be a real necessity in ensuring the degree is not made unaffordable.

  • DO look a gift horse in the mouth

    DO look a gift horse in the mouth

    If you don’t come from a “horsey background” (like me) then the equine side of the vet course can feel a little overwhelming.

    From a different number of ribs and guttural pouches to the inability to vomit, horses have an abundance of clinical differences to our smaller patients, and so (quite rightly) often need to be studied in their own right, much the same as with farm animal medicine.

    Clinical aspects aside, the world of equine also comes with a wealth of nomenclature that seemed to me, at first, like a second language. A disease called “glanders and farcy” was a particular favourite equine term of mine, as it sounds deceptively quaint despite in fact being an incredibly serious and often fatal notifiable disease.

    For these reasons, in all honesty, I was a little apprehensive of my first equine clinical placement – most likely not helped by a distinct lack of large animal clinical EMS up until that point (thank you COVID-19).

    As it turns out however, the two-week placement became one of my favourite so far. So, for those of you with it still to come, here are a few things I wish I’d known going in…

    Time to smell the hay

    Small animal medicine can sometimes be fast paced, and patients can come and go in a blur. With 15-minute consults and a lot to pack in within that time, there sometimes just aren’t the opportunities for students to ask questions or for advice.

    On the other hand, equine and large animal medicine placements are often a little less patient intensive, affording students the opportunity to really dive into each individual case, rather than losing track of how many they’ve already seen that morning.

    The drive between clients can also provide time for asking questions, filing in your case logs for the last animal, and reading up on the next.

    Communication, communication, communication

    Depending on the client, of course, a lot of call outs will involve a certain amount of time standing around the horse with the client waiting patiently at the reigns.

    Dentals, in particular, can take a surprisingly long time and while in small animal practice the vet can typically just stick the radio on, plonk on a stool and get to it, that might seem rather rude with the animals owner standing right next to you. Being able to hold a conversation with the client, whether its about their animal or just the nice weather we’ve been having, is a skill that can sometimes be sidelined in favour of clinical competencies.

    Making conversation can also be extra difficult if you’re trying to be clinically competent at the same time – and this is where multitasking comes in, as vets will often have to engage with the client for more than an hour while performing tasks on the animal that a smallies vet would probably take a dog out the back to do.

    As a student, spending long periods of time with a vet and a single client is a great opportunity to practice client engagement and communication. If in doubt, and you’re left alone with the owner while the vet runs back to their car, try asking about their animal (how long they’ve had it, if it’s their first, and so on). We all love gushing over our pets, and it goes a long way to show enthusiasm instead of the vet coming back only to find the two of you staring in silence at the grass.

    “Jugulars like drain pipes”. Image © charlymorlock / Adobe Stock

    Bigger can be better

    When you’re not feeling 100% on your catheter placement or blood sampling, it helps to have something big to aim for. This is where horses come in…

    It’s almost like they’ve gone out of their way to be the perfect injection-giving training wheels, with jugulars like drain pipes and large obvious muscle bellies for you to grab in one hand and pop a needle in with the other. Once you’ve mastered the horse IV and IM, it’s only a matter of sizing down.

    My main takeaway from this placement was a reminder not to shy away from practising things that don’t come naturally, or aren’t your favourite thing in the world. There’s no point practising the things you know you’re best at, for the sake of feeling good about succeeding in something you already knew how to do.

    You’ll feel much better after that initial leap out of your comfort zone, when you succeed in something you couldn’t do before.

  • How the vet degree has shaped my plate

    How the vet degree has shaped my plate

    Before coming to university, I never really gave much thought to the life or journey of my food before it ended up on my plate; I wasn’t well informed on the topics of air miles, methane production or abattoir welfare standards.

    If you had asked me if I wanted to make sure the foods I ate were ethically sourced, had a low carbon footprint, or had once lived a healthy and happy life, I would have said “of course” – all of these things mattered to me on a subliminal level, but I don’t think I really grasped how any of these concepts were within my control.

    Welfare

    Animal welfare makes up such a large part of the veterinary course from the very first year, so it’s no wonder so many students are vegetarian or vegan by the time they graduate. I must admit that my Easter Sunday lunch was a little hard to swallow after my first-year lambing placement… and one week on a pig farm certainly had me seeing my Christmas pigs in blankets in a whole new light.

    The vet course provides a window into the side of meat production the public will never access – and may not even want to.

    In an ideal world (where every animal has a full and healthy life devoid of stress, discomfort or suffering before it is killed), I would have no qualms about eating meat, but the sad truth is that’s just economically and logistically unviable – at least for now.

    But welfare isn’t as cut and dried as people might think. Take cows, for example: if you picture a happy cow, it’s probably roaming around in a field, right? Well, frustratingly, fields have many disadvantages – offering parasites, botulism and rogue pieces of metal, while providing no protection from the elements, nor a means for the farmer to moderate their food intake to ward off laminitis, hypocalcaemia and a bunch of other welfare issues.

    “One week on a pig farm certainly had me seeing my Christmas pigs in blankets in a whole new light.” Image © HQUALITY / Adobe Stock

    The environment

    Along with owning a pair of flared jeans, or developing calves of steel thanks to the endless hills, you didn’t go to the University of Bristol unless you’ve developed a complex over your carbon footprint.

    One of the simplest ways to be more environmentally friendly is to eat less meat, but many studies are showing that a global move to veganism/vegetarianism is not the answer for our ever-growing population. A lot of land just isn’t suitable for crops, and rice farming already makes up more than 10% of global methane production.

    Again, if we were looking for an ideal scenario, it would be to eat less meat, sourced locally and sustainably, and to value it enough to pay a price that would allow farmers to invest in greener technologies.

    Student budgets

    Working on farms at all levels of the course gives vet students an appreciation for how much farmers care about their animals, and how hard they work to balance that priority with sustaining a business. Even if you’re sceptical about the meat industry, there is always the option to do research into the farms and butchers that are close to you.

    Frustratingly, making good choices from both a welfare and environmental perspective can be much pricier than the alternatives, and this has been one of my own drivers for decreasing my meat consumption during my uni career. Despite this, I still try very hard to make informed choices, and when I do buy meat I aim to prioritise quality over quantity wherever possible.

    In very small, but meaningful ways, change is shaped by the decisions and purchases we all make, and understanding the steps that brought the ingredients from the farm to your plate fosters a respect and appreciation for what you are eating, beyond just its taste.

  • Don’t limit yourself

    Don’t limit yourself

    Fourth year at vet school seems to finish before it’s even begun – and that’s not a romanticism.

    It’s only six months (running from September to February), so even if you factor in time spent on exams, it sort of feels like cramming a whole year into just half the space of time. Like too much butter over too little bread.

    Short year

    There are many maladies of fourth year that nobody quite prepares you for.

    For starters, exams come before Easter (so you don’t even get a chocolate fix while revising), there’s no real summer holiday (unless you count an overseas EMS placement) and – the scary part – it’s the stepping stone between being a plain ol’ student and basically being an actual vet.

    Despite these curveballs to the regular programming of the vet course, I believe fourth year has been my favourite so far. However, I’m not sure if it’s the nostalgia after intercalating for a year, the delicious lack of biochemistry and 9am dissections, or the slow and almost intangible sensation of everything coming together.

    Mixing bowl

    It’s most certainly a scary jolt when you realise that, academically speaking, the university staff have essentially taught you everything there is to teach you. There are no more ingredients to becoming a veterinary professional – all that’s left is to mix them all together and hope you come out fully baked.

    It’s also a familiar type of “scary” – like holding your unopened A-level results envelope, or moving out of home and into halls. It’s a precipice of the unknown, but there’s also a lot of potential there. Staring into the jaws of final year is a humbling experience and it feels like the beginning of the end of a very long journey.

    Looking back, the past five years seem like a blur and despite the fact most of the friends I started university with are now working 9 to 5 and getting on the property ladder, I can’t quite believe I’m already here. Is it really that time already?

    Limitless

    Academics aside (you know, the actual important bit), I’d say my takeaway from my time so far probably boils down to just one point: don’t limit yourself.

    This applies to every aspect of life at vet school – from trying different clubs and sports in your first year, to keeping your options open when it comes to what type of vet you actually want to be. For example, when I first started writing for Vet Times as a wee 19 year old, I knew down to my bones that I wanted to be a farm vet… until I didn’t.

    That’s not to say that cows aren’t still the cutest things that fill me with absolute joy, because they do. It’s even become a sort of car game among my vet friends to point out fields of them on long journeys. The fact of the matter is, I don’t know what I want to be any more, unless there’s an option for everything?

    Growing confusion

    I never really considered myself an exotics enthusiast, or a conservationist, or a wildlife welfare advocate until halfway through my veterinary degree, and with each passing EMS placement I become more and more torn as to which area I’d like to branch into.

    “Don’t limit yourself” is also applicable to your life and interests outside of the course, to giving yourself a much-needed break during the revision period, and not being scared to ask questions of that vet who knows everything now, but was once just like you.

    Don’t miss out

    It makes for a very cheesy motto, but if you get too caught up in where you think you should be going when you first start vet school, you might miss out on some really incredible opportunities along the way.

    It’s natural for you to end up being a very different person at the end of the course than you were when you first applied (a culmination of all of those years and experiences) – I know I certainly am.

  • ‘Long COVID’ within the veterinary industry

    ‘Long COVID’ within the veterinary industry

    Despite that all COVID-19 restrictions are due to be removed as early as the end of the month, the long-term impacts of this pandemic have yet to ease and will likely be sending ripples through many professions for the foreseeable future.

    The virus has already left lasting changes to the landscape of the veterinary industry – not only in how it operates, but in how new professionals are taught from the ground up. Long gone are the days of packed-out waiting rooms and lecture theatres.

    The more things change

    Even with restrictions out of the way, it’s thought that measures put in place over the past two years to reduce viral transmission in our practices may remain the “new normal”, with clients asked to wait outside until necessary, and often with only a single owner asked to come in with their pet at any one time.

    Several vet schools now operate under the banner of “blended learning”, whereby the curriculum is taught in a mixture of face-to-face content, live and online lectures, alongside pre-recorded, virtually accessible resources.

    In the face of recurrent industrial action – coupled with the rising, desperate demand for new veterinary professionals – online teaching may offer a convenient, long-term solution.

    Fallen behind

    As with all change, there are pros and cons, although one area I think is yet to be fully addressed is the issue of EMS backlogs.

    There are current backlogs in the NHS, the postal system and in many other major industries throughout the country, and I don’t believe the veterinary student training system has escaped unaffected.

    Car park consults may remain the “new normal” for some practices. Image © Eva / Adobe Stock

    Exaggerating social inequity

    For a good 12 to 18 months, many practices – especially small independents – were forced to shut their doors to both pre-clinical and clinical placements – and although EMS requirements were lowered for all year groups due to graduate by 2023, every succeeding year must complete the formerly required 26 weeks.

    This has led to an overwhelmingly large number of students competing for a progressively smaller number of placement opportunities.

    This makes it particularly difficult for students who lack their own transport, or the funds to travel far from their university or hometown, meaning there may be growing social inequity in the variety and quality of experience vet students are able to obtain.

    Better the devil you know

    Not only this, but large veterinary conglomerates may have the infrastructure to accommodate larger numbers of students, and new graduates may want to “stick with what they know” and, therefore, be less likely to consider signing contracts with smaller, independent practices.

    There is also the argument that, with the rise of online teaching and decrease in student-lecturer contact, work experience has never been such a valuable tool in supplementing a student’s learning.

    With the demand for placements higher than ever before, and veterinary practices sometimes two or three times busier than before the pandemic, the financial cost of EMS for some students has never been greater.

    Essential experiences

    Confidence, satisfaction and a balanced education behind all new graduates serves the interest of both individual professionals, and the profession as a whole.

    In my opinion, there has never been a greater need for a review of the need for higher education funding for veterinary students, to allow every student access to a large variety of work experience and the opportunity to see what different avenues are available to them after graduation.

  • Prophylactic mental health

    Prophylactic mental health

    Many facets of mental health are comparable to physical illness/fitness, and I’ve gained a lot of introspection on how to keep myself mentally healthy and happy on the vet course from lessons I’ve learned from my physical training.

    Since joining the gym a couple months before the pandemic hit (as futile as that turned out to be) to focus on my physical health, I’ve noticed a profound increase in my mental health and my general mood.

    There’s a lot that links mental and physical health that we’re barely scratching the surface of. Endorphins released while exercising improve your mood and reduce anxiety, wearing out your body a little more during the day helps you sleep better at night, and building a routine can certainly be beneficial in a course as time-management crucial as veterinary medicine.

    Getting physical

    Having said that, I think there’s a lot more to it when it comes to prophylactic mental health.

    When I started weightlifting, for example, it was easy to feel like more was better – to the point where I was putting in more time in the gym, but seeing less results.

    As counterintuitive as this sounds, your body needs time to rest and recover before starting back fresh with renewed levels of energy. Usain Bolt isn’t trying to break records every single day, and being at 110% all the time sounds exhausting… and is probably also impossible.

    The same can be said for working and revising. If you have an inbound deadline or exam, your impulse is likely to think that the more you work, the better your grade. But trust me, that’s just not always the case – and I learned this the hard way.

    Heed the warning signs

    After suffering from burnout in my first year – after three months straight of revision (which I began four months before exams) – I had to accept that, long term, high intensity just isn’t sustainable.

    Recently, I’ve been able to apply the warning signs I’ve learned to pick up on at the gym to my work on the vet course.

    If I’m noticing that I’m not motivated to work out, that the weight I lifted easily last week now feels super heavy, or my muscles are sore for longer, I know it’s time to tone it down. Similarly, if I can’t bring myself to stare at another textbook, if a fact I previously knew now keeps escaping me, or if I’m noticing longer periods of bad moods and shorter periods of feeling happy, I know that something needs to change.

    For the former problem, I take a couple days off, do some stretching, and give myself time to heal. For the latter, the process is much the same, rest, relaxation and doing my best to switch my mind off – whether that’s TV, a good book, or, ironically, a good gym session.

    Preventive approach

    With the busy work life that comes with being a vet, I think the luxury of being able to go to the gym three or four times a week falls by the wayside, despite even the best of intentions.

    I know of a lot of professionals who’ve given up hobbies like running or hiking because there simply aren’t the hours in the day.

    However, giving our medical staff the time to take care of their physical health could go a long way to lessening the mental health crisis that has existed in the veterinary community for decades.

  • When emotions run high

    When emotions run high

    Vets have to handle a variety of difficult situations, from delivering bad news to addressing financial difficulties. But when it comes to tackling client grief, awkwardness or anger, it’s a bit like that old children’s book, We’re Going on a Bear Hunt – we can’t go over, under or around it – we’ve got to go through it!

    I recently had a three-hour communications practical, during which my fellow students and I were tossed into a randomly selected clinical scenario designed to help us deal with uncomfortable areas of future practice. These included such topics as:

    • discussing the needs for euthanasia
    • apologising for clinical mistakes
    • reasoning with angry farmers when their herds came back TB-positive

    Role play

    We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, written by Michael Rosen and illustrated by Helen Oxenbury, is available from Amazon.co.uk and other booksellers.

    All scenarios were conducted with real actors portraying the clients – and although we’d been given a list of topics to revise if we wanted – any revision turned out to be next to useless as the exercise was less about what you knew, and more about how you dealt with people.

    Personally, I find this type of practical as rewarding – if not more so – than our clinical skills work. We have countless opportunities to practise suturing, spaying and catheterising in the labs at school, and in final-year rotations, but dealing with the raw side of client communications is the one thing we never actually get to experience until we’re suddenly in the driver’s seat.

    It’s completely understandable – nobody wants a student present at their most vulnerable moments. If my own pet was being put down, I’d want the comfort of an experienced vet doing the job and walking me through it from start to finish.

    Learning experiences

    That’s why I think communication practicals are so incredibly useful, and it’s a real shame that I’ve only had three in my course so far. It can be difficult to learn from and build upon experiences spaced years apart from one another, and I feel incredibly sorry for the year before me (while I was intercalating) who had to do their scenarios over Zoom.

    One of the most valuable lessons that these practicals have taught me, is not to be afraid of emotion.

    It can be difficult – especially when a very valid defence mechanism for many medical professionals is to distance yourself from it at all costs – but there are moments when all is required of you is simply to be there, to listen and understand.

    Just be there

    There’s no textbook in the world that can teach you that. When a client (or an actor pretending to be a client) is crying in front of you, you want to fix their grief because fixing things is, quite literally, your profession.

    Your instinct is to talk and fill the silence, but instead, you need to wait for them to process the moment and then be there to answer their questions.

    Some things you can’t fix and you can’t work around – you just have to go through them.

  • Lessons learned from intercalating

    Lessons learned from intercalating

    Although it may technically have finished in September with my final deadline, it didn’t feel complete or right to celebrate the end of my MSc intercalation until the final grades were released this month.

    With my shoulders a little lighter, I can now look back on the experience with a fondness similar to that which I felt after completing my silver Duke of Edinburgh’s Award (a similarly exhausting experience) – and although it was definitely a steep learning curve, I’ve come away incredibly grateful for the experience and having learned the value of intercalating.

    Lesson #1: you don’t have to be a one trick pony

    Now, I’ve spoken before about the plethora of jobs a veterinary graduate can apply themselves to beyond clinical practice. Not only has intercalating made this all the more apparent to me, but it has also expanded my academic experience.

    The vet course is very exam-centric (with the occasional directed self-education), and for those like me coming straight from GCSEs and A-levels with no prior undergrad degree, exams are all we’ve ever known. Course work and deadlines are an entirely new kind of process.

    To put it in athletic terms, I feel it’s a little like a long-distance runner retraining for sprinting events. I’m used to planning six months ahead and slow-burning my revision in preparation for one big exam, so changing my mindset towards two to three coursework deadlines a month did not come naturally. Despite this, I appreciate the challenge, and it felt good to apply my mind in a different way – like stretching a new muscle.

    Lesson #2: comfort zones are there to be defied

    Everything I’ve learned and applied myself to over the past few years has been entirely vet related, so, for a while, I felt a bit like a fish out of water. Saying that, why does anybody intercalate, if not for a fresh perspective? I now know more about conservation efforts than I knew there was to know about, including several career routes I never would have even considered beforehand.

    Image © WindyNight / Adobe Stock

    Pushing yourself and not getting set in your ways are valuable traits to have as a clinician. You need to be versatile, adaptable and open to new ideas, as well as constantly trying to work on yourself both personally and professionally (no sleeping on the job either, literally or figuratively).

    At the start of this course, I’d never written a literature review, a grant proposal or a research paper – to tell you the truth, I’d have had no clue where to even start. The closer I get to graduation the more I worry about all the new challenges that lie ahead, but the past year has really helped my confidence and made those challenges seem less intimidating.

    Lesson #3: absence makes the heart grow fonder

    If it hadn’t been obvious to me from the beginning, it certainly is now. I really, really, really (am I overdoing it?) cannot wait to be a practising vet.

    A short break from the course made me miss everything about it, which affirms that I am:

    1. a total nerd, and
    2. have likely been on the right course all along

    Intercalating doesn’t have to imply disinterest in whatever medical degree you’re studying – quite the opposite. So, if you’re reading this article trying to decide on whether to intercalate yourself, my advice would be to go for it. Expanding your interests or abilities is never a bad thing.

    Many vets return to education several years post-graduation anyway, and intercalating is a really useful way to explore a whole new world of academia in a relatively short space of time.