Category: Students

  • When is a dog not a dog?

    When is a dog not a dog?

    Every vet has their niche, speciality or personal interest. I think I’m slowly finding that mine may be located somewhere in the gastrointestinal (GI) system; as the daughter of an endoscopy nurse I like to think I’m following in the family footsteps.

    I was really enjoying my lectures on the topic until we reached the point of hiatal hernias.

    The unfortunate cognitive dissonance of veterinary medicine is that the more interesting or objectively “cooler” the case, the more likely it is often incredibly sad from the perspective of the patient.

    Vet geek

    In this case, I personally was finding the concept of a sliding hernia pretty “cool” (don’t judge, I’ve been out of the game for a year and I’ve missed nerding out over-vetty stuff), until I learned that the majority of brachycephalic dogs suffer from the condition.

    The mechanism behind this being that, in an effort to breathe through an actively collapsing airway, a brachycephalic dog can effectively create such a negative pressure that it sucks its stomach through its diaphragm and into its thorax.

    The worst part of this is that it’s suspected the majority of cases are subclinical (or, at least, subclinical to the owner), as the main clinical signs associated with nausea, such as drooling and lip smacking, are characteristic of short-nosed breeds anyway.

    Less love?

    I wonder if a pilot finds it impossible to enjoy a flight? Even if you stuck him in first class with a martini, the Friends box set, comfy slippers and a sirloin steak on the menu, would he be able to switch off, or would he find his mind focusing on minute turbulence? Would he keep checking the altitude, or picturing the cockpit, wondering: “What on Earth is going on up there?”

    Can a pilot enjoy just being a passenger? Image © xixinxing / Adobe Stock

    Along a similar vein, by the time I finish vet school I wonder if I will ever be able to truly enjoy a dog in the way I used to? If somebody had presented me with the fluffiest, most adorably friendly puppy in the world the day before I’d started first year, I’d have been ecstatic – I may even have passed out from happiness.

    Not just a puppy

    Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m never NOT going to love being handed a puppy, but it’s not just a puppy anymore.

    • Has it been vaccinated?
    • Was its mother healthy?
    • Did the breeder socialise it effectively, or will it forever have a fear of bearded men in funny hats?
    • Is there a cleft palate behind those tiny teeth?
    • Are there worms lurking in that adorable pot belly?

    It’s like my subconscious races to take a history in every animal – even if they’re not a patient!

    Natural versus artificial selection

    As a constant reminder of my disturbing lecture notes, while tutoring GCSE biology I regularly cover the topic of “natural versus artificial selection” with my students. This includes covering the staggering feet of man’s journey over the past 1,000 years to convert the wolf into anything from a small bear to something that fits in a handbag.

    Each time I teach this topic I find myself fighting the urge to be overly pious, knowing no exam will ever ask them to list the ways the pug is destined to a snorting existence or why the dachshund can’t jump onto his owner’s lap for fear of shattering his spine.

    I feel including that sort of thing in the syllabus could certainly go a long way – and perhaps the best way to promote healthy dogs is with re-education from the ground up. But is that my responsibility? More importantly, is it the responsibility of vets in general?

    Flawed from birth

    With some owners (especially breeders), mentioning any predispositions or hereditary conditions of their dog is akin to attacking their personal brand.

    Some people are “dog people”, while some are very passionately and unequivocally only “pug people” or “sausage dog people” or “golden people” – and it’s generally a struggle not to cause offense when telling an owner their animal is slightly overweight, let alone that their pride and joy is genetically predisposed to be flawed from birth.

    Image by ExplorerBob from Pixabay

    Do better by your pet

    The frustrating thing is that if owners knew the risks to their particular pup then prophylactic management could really make a difference to these animals’ lives.

    Not walking brachycephalic breeds on hot days, keeping the weight off of larger dogs to take the stress off of their joints – prevention is always better than cure, and if we can’t prevent the breeding and purchasing of puppies with a gene pool so shallow only a gnat could drown in it then at the very least we should be aiming to prevent suffering and promoting comfort.

    Balancing act

    The danger, as always, is that if you tell an owner what they don’t want to hear too many times, they won’t come back. So, the balancing act lies in maintaining the client-vet relationship so as to ensure animal welfare, while not being too pious or condescending.

    This is equally important in day-to-day life. Being able to switch off is a must for any professional to maintain mental health, yet it’s sometimes hard to stay quiet when your friend mentions their aspiration to own 50 sausage dogs.

    My question for you is, does a vet ever stop being a vet, and is a dog ever really just “a dog”?

  • Tips for making the most of extramural studies

    Tips for making the most of extramural studies

    Thanks to it that shall not be named (the pandemic) I started my clinical work experience or “extramural studies” (EMS) a little later than is usual for a veterinary student.

    Having 10 weeks of work experience cancelled out from under me in 2020 did feel incredibly frustrating at the time, but in hindsight, I think it made me appreciate my first few weeks of clinical work so much more.

    With this in mind, I wanted to provide a couple of tips for any student who, like me, are a little late to the game, or who are simply looking to get a little more out of their placements – whether it be clinical or pre-clinical.

    1. Don’t be afraid to ask questions – or answer them!

    I’ll be honest, I dread being quizzed and questioned by a seasoned veterinary professional as much as the next person. The key, however, is to think back to your university interview days: it is impossible for you to know everything, and there are bound to be parts of the course you haven’t even covered yet – vets do understand this.

    When you’re asked a question in practice, you’re not expected to get it right 100% of the time, but to give it your best shot. Questions are designed to get you thinking, and as long as you apply yourself and have a go, you’ll gain far more respect from your peers than if you hadn’t tried at all. Remember: any answer is better than a blank-faced stare of internalised horror.

    Likewise, vets expect you to ask questions back, so if you don’t know the answer to a particular question asked of you by one vet, there’s nothing stopping you from asking another vet about it later in the day.

    Be curious and engaged, and if you don’t understand what’s going on, just ask.

    2. Get stuck in

    Now this one certainly applies to any stage of your training, whether you’re visiting a farm or a referral hospital. Placement providers appreciate students who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty – be it literally or metaphorically – so pick up that broom, laryngoscope, mop or stethoscope and give everything that’s offered to you a go.

    Vets are often busy and focused on the task at hand, so you may have to ask if you can have a go at intubating, or that SC injection, or using the thermometer. The worst they can say is no if, perhaps, there isn’t time. However, in my experience, asking to try something makes them more likely to offer you the chance further down the line.

    When it comes to certain things, it helps to take initiative:

    • See a dull looking calf? Report it to the farmer.
    • See a dirty consult table? Clean it.

    And if you find yourself without anything to do between consults and ops, or in a lull between milking sessions, asking a nurse or farmhand if there are any odd jobs that need doing is a surefire way to bring a smile to their day.

    When it comes to most farms/vet practices, there’s always something to be done.

    3. Keep your head in the game

    To paraphrase Dolly Parton, working 9 to 5 can take its toll – and I’m sure she would have been shocked to know the hours an average vet or farmer clocks in each week.

    Not many vets work 9 to 5. Some work 12 hours a day or even longer, and if you’re not used to a busy work week then you may find yourself flagging by day four or so.

    It can be all too tempting to zone out, check your phone or stare out of the window thinking about what you’ll have for dinner that evening – but all the time you’re doing that, really interesting stuff could be going on around you without you even knowing.

    No placement provider is impressed by a student who looks bored or disengaged, but beyond that, by not paying attention you’re robbing yourself of really vital experience that is only meant to benefit you and your career.

    Try bringing a bag of mints or sweets to keep your energy topped up during the day, bring a notebook or revision book to study from in the quiet hours, and maybe leave your phone in your bag instead of your pocket, so you won’t be so tempted.

    4. Enjoy it!

    At the end of the day, EMS is meant to be an enjoyable and exciting experience. It’s a glimpse into the future for most vet students, and even for students who choose not to go into clinical work, it can teach you a lot about client communication, business management and how to cope with a busy workload.

    It’s perhaps a slightly overused saying, but when it comes to work experience, “you only get out what you put in” – so I wholly encourage you to throw yourself into your placement (not literally of course – literally, walk calmly and confidently into your placement).

  • Top tips for studying effectively with video lecture recordings

    Top tips for studying effectively with video lecture recordings

    As the new academic year begins, veterinary schools across the UK are welcoming student vets on their journey to their chosen careers. While we all hope this year will be less eventful than last year, there’s little doubt that many large lectures will continue to be recorded or put online to minimise the spread of COVID-19.

    Learning with technology is fast becoming standard practice for vets. There are eye-catching new tools, like simulation models that mimic arrhythmic heartbeats and augmented reality videos to demonstrate catheterisation, but there are also more subtle technologies many students may not think about. Lecture recording – the practice of capturing audio and visual representations of the lecture – is now common in many universities across the world.

    There is a temptation to think about lectures as they were in James Herriot’s day, with a lecturer standing in front of a chalkboard drawing complicated anatomy diagrams while students squint and try to capture as much as they can on paper. Now – with smart boards, PowerPoints and recordings – students can have a much more complete record of the material covered – and fewer hand cramps.

    Image by Michael Kopp from Pixabay

    While some lecturers have been concerned that recordings will stop students learning how to take notes, research at the Royal (Dick) School of Veterinary Studies has found many students use recordings very effectively in their study strategies.

    In this work, some of which was funded by Echo360, a video-based teaching and learning platform, we have identified five top tips for students who want to make the most of studying with lecture recordings.

    Whether your lecture is on campus in a bustling lecture hall or on a screen from the comfort of your bedroom, these tips will help you to get the most of your time at vet school (and we won’t lie, they are good for online CPD, too, for those qualified vets among you).

    TIP #1: Know what the lecture is for

    Most lectures will have “learning outcomes” or “instructional objectives”, either clearly detailed at the start of the lecture or highlighted as part of your course material (such as the course handbook).

    Learning outcomes are a great way of making sure you have understood the purpose of the lecture and met its aims1. Learning outcomes usually begin with a statement like “at the end of this lecture, you should be able to…”. Unsurprisingly, these are the skills you should be able to do after you’ve finished the lecture!

    Imagine a lecture designed to teach you how to make the perfect cup of tea. The learning outcomes might be:

    • Identify the sugar caddy, tea caddy and milk jug in the kitchen.
    • Describe how you would assess a person’s tea preference.

    After the lecture, you should be able to go into your kitchen and point to the relevant equipment, and ask your guest how they like their tea to be made.

    If you haven’t been able to achieve these things after the lecture, you might want to revise the topic again, review the recording, or ask the lecturer clarifying questions (“can you describe the sugar caddy again, Doctor?”). If you’re not sure what the learning outcomes are, be sure to look in your course handbook, but also don’t be afraid to ask your course organiser or lecturer.

    TIP #2: Lectures as the diving board

    Although it can seem as though you’ve just had an ocean’s worth of material dumped on your head in a lecture, your lecturer will be thinking you’ve barely dipped your toe in the water.

    Often, the lecture is an introduction to the subject, a diving board that helps you find the right materials to study further. We’ve seen in our studies that students can use lecture recordings in all sorts of inventive and useful ways to support their learning.

    Photo by Markus Spiske from Pexels

    It might be tempting to put lecture recordings on while doing the dishes, like your favourite Netflix series, but studying should be a dynamic activity. In one study2 we found vet students would watch recordings, pausing often to look up references or clarify concepts from their own notes.

    We’ve also seen that students like to revisit their lectures on EMS3 – particularly to reconsider tricky topics that may have come up on placement, or just as a reminder that they do know this material really.

    TIP #3: Make good notes

    While it’s easy to say “make sure you study actively with recordings”, it can be a bit harder to imagine what that looks like. Here are some of our recommendations for making the best of your notes.

    Remember that your notes can (and maybe should) begin before the lecture. You will most likely know the topics in advance, so outline what you think you’re going to learn, and even some potential questions before you review a lecture recording or go to class.

    Leave gaps in your notes where you might want to revisit important phases or concepts. This is particularly useful in recorded sessions, because you can concentrate on listening to the lecture, knowing you can revisit the recording and look up the spelling of “blepharorrhaphy” later. We all know that’s suturing eyelids, of course, but if you weren’t sure, you could test yourself when you’re filling in your notes after class by researching the answer after you’ve made a guess.

    It’s important to remember that the best notes aren’t just a transcript of the lecture. The recording is there to help make sure you don’t miss the details, but you need to return to your notes and expand on them. There should be more in your lecture notes than what was said by the lecturer.

    The notes you have at the start of class won’t be the same notes you have before the exam. The notes should evolve with you and your understanding of the subject. You may find it useful to reorganise your notes as you study. It might not be logical to you to have them in the order of your lectures. Most importantly, your notes are for you and don’t need to be pretty, or make sense to anyone else.

    Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

    TIP #4: Mix it up

    One of the great things about recordings is that they give you the freedom to experiment.

    Let’s say you wanted to try a new way of taking notes, like the Cornell system4, you can pick a recorded lecture to experiment in. If you hate it, you can use the recording to fill your notes in again. Perhaps you feel you might concentrate more if you take notes on pen and paper instead of on a laptop – why not try it out?

    You may also find it useful to take and store your own notes online alongside recorded lectures or, if your institution has one, use a dedicated chat thread to discuss them with your lecturer or fellow students. It can be helpful to supplement your own understanding of the topics being covered by drawing from different perspectives.

    Vet school can feel very pressured, but experimenting is a really important part of learning. Taking the step from school to university can be a great time to figure out what works for you, and what you might want to change.

    This tip is also especially useful for graduated vets who are working on CPD recordings – what worked for you before you graduated might not work when you’re also running a practice and dodging children underfoot.

    We’ve heard that our students like to use recordings in group study sessions. Think about sharing your notes in sessions like these, be they in person or over an e-conferencing platform. Can you get any tips on organisation from others, or help each other to get a better understanding of the topic? These kinds of group discussions are so important, both for learning the topic, but also learning how to become collegiate vets.

    Image © as-artmedia / Adobe Stock

    TIP #5: Relax

    My final tip is to try to relax. The last 18 months have been tough on everyone, and you might be worrying about sitting formal exams again, anxious about leaving your family dog behind or simply concerned about how you’ll balance all the clubs you’re trying to join.

    Everyone needs a sick day occasionally, and one of the big things we’ve heard from our students is that having recordings and virtual learning environments can help take some of the pressure off.

    Ultimately, the way you study will be very personal to you. The tools and technologies are there to help, and they are worth exploring and experimenting with. Most of all, take the time to enjoy these lectures. They are the first step on the path to becoming the vet you’re going to be.

  • Hot dogs belong on a barbecue, not in the car

    Hot dogs belong on a barbecue, not in the car

    We’ve all heard horror stories of dogs left in hot cars by their owners; it’s an issue that comes around every year like the warnings of dangers of chocolate at Easter and mistletoe in December.

    Luckily, I’ve never seen a case brought into practice or even witnessed a dog shut into a car on a hot day – until this week.

    While shopping, I noticed a small Westie lying rather forlornly in the back of a parked car. The windows were cracked and it was a cloudy day, so the owners had obviously assumed popping into the shop for however long they’d intended would do their animal no harm. Not surprisingly, I was immediately concerned.

    Getting hotter

    Despite the clouds it was a hot day and muggy – and as it was only 11 in the morning, the temperature was only going to rise. No water had been left for the dog (either out of laziness or for fear that it would be knocked over), and although I could tell he was alert, he moved from seat to seat, clearly agitated and anxious.

    I’d hope the average passer-by would intercede, but being a veterinary student with all the worst-case scenarios scarred permanently into my brain, I didn’t feel right leaving it.

    The situation didn’t seem urgent enough to warrant bashing the windows in – especially as I had no idea if the owner was just around the corner. Instead, I checked with the shop the car park belonged to, and although it didn’t have a tannoy system they thanked me, took down the registration number of the car in question and promised to watch diligently until the owner returned.

    Legislation lacking

    Since then I have been brushing up the laws in the UK regarding leaving animals in cars, and although it is not illegal to leave a dog in a car (regardless of the temperature, or the windows being rolled up or down), the owner may be prosecuted if anything happens to the animal in that car.

    Given the number of dogs that die in hot cars, or shortly after being left in one every year, I think that this legislation needs to be reviewed. If you wouldn’t leave a child in a car unattended, why leave an animal that is arguably even more vulnerable?

    What to do?

    For anyone who finds themselves in the position I was – and there’s nobody around to help, the animal seems distressed or in danger, or you simply don’t know what to do – please know you are absolutely within your rights to call 999 and contact the emergency services. The best case scenario will be that the animal is absolutely fine and no intervention is needed – the worst case scenario is far, far worse.

    Try to check how long the car has been there by looking for parking tickets. If you’re unsure whether a dog is suffering within a hot car, look for signs of heatstroke/hyperthermia such as heavy panting or drooling, lethargy, collapse or vomiting.

    More advice can be found on the RSPCA or PDSA websites, and if in doubt, the RSPCA hotline (0300 1234 999) is available for advice.

  • Raking it in?

    Raking it in?

    The assumption is often made that many people get into the veterinary industry for the money. In fact, it’s always been a widely held public view that vets are raking it in.

    This is, perhaps, due to a combination of the recognised difficulty of the job, seemingly extortionate vets’ bills and a propensity for Range Rovers.

    Whatever the cause, this view was made all the more apparent on the 18 May edition of Good Morning Britain.

    Concerns about cost

    The original topic of debate – “Should there be an NHS for pets?” – sparked a subsequent debate into the pricing of veterinary care, with strong implications being made that pricing in the veterinary industry is “unregulated” and, therefore, unnecessarily high and perhaps even greedy?

    As an outsider looking in, faced with an objectionably large bill for what you thought would only be a routine check-up, I can see how it’s easy to misunderstand where all that money can go, except into the pockets of the vets themselves – and yet this is a fallacy.

    Clients just don’t understand

    I feel an understandable nationwide misunderstanding exists of the true value of what we consider to be “routine” medical goods and services.

    According to an NHS calculator, without health care, the price of a hospital child delivery would range from £2,500 to £5,000, depending on any complications. In the US, a single doctor’s consultation can cost you upwards of $200 (£141), with the average American spending more than $10,000 (£7,000) in health care a year as of 2016.

    There’s no denying that we take human medical care for granted, so there’s little surprise when the cost of animal medical care puts our clients in need of a pacemaker (free of charge).

    In it for the money

    One of the very first things I learned about veterinary medicine – as I sat, rather excitedly, in a school-organised lecture given by the head vet of a local practice to a room of young, naive wannabe vets – was that if we were thinking of getting into the career for the money, we should change tack now, as we would be sorely disappointed.

    I know I am luckier, now than ever before, to have the luxury of both job and financial security when I leave university, but it needs to be said that neither myself, nor any vet student I have ever encountered, got into this business for the money.

    Even if we had, I think it would be fair to call us fools, as there must surely be an easier way to make money than five years of student housing, student loans, exams and poop scooping.

    Initial outgoings

    I think it also needs to be said that the phrase “it takes money to make money” could indeed be applied very aptly to the veterinary degree. A growing awareness exists of the potential accessibility imbalance when it comes to the vet course, depending on background, social class, funding and so on.

    It’s no secret to those on the inside that getting into, and through, vet school can insure some serious dents in your wallet, and those of your parents (sorry parents); between textbooks, steel toe-capped wellingtons, petrol miles, Airbnbs for long-distance placements and stethoscopes (the most expensive necklace you will ever own), you are looking at a sizeable sum before you even get to student loans.

    And that’s without considering being able to afford the time off work to travel to open days and interviews in the first place, with the assumption that you have a supportive network of family who have the money to fund your ambitions before you’ve even got your foot in the door…

    An NHS for pets?

    The topic of an NHS for pets aside, I think a great deal needs to be done to help us recognise the true privilege that is our human NHS, and the true value of the service given by all medical professionals.

  • Impostor syndrome: a pandemic among vet students

    Impostor syndrome: a pandemic among vet students

    The nature of the vet course is inherently competitive, with the odds stacked against you from the very beginning.

    During our A-levels we are told that only 1 out of every 5 to 10 applicants make it to vet school, and that you’re lucky to get a single interview or offer (any more than that is just greedy).

    In university, when students on other courses are totalling up their grades to calculate if they are getting 1sts or 2:1s, vets are given a pass mark of 50%, which has the paradoxical effect of making it seem like you should be sailing through the course when, in actual fact, the bar is set so low because – yes – it really is that hard.

    Negative feelings

    The majority of vets and vet students, I am sure, can report to experiencing some form of impostor syndrome at some point in their careers – if not throughout.

    Impostor syndrome is the feeling you are not as bright, or competent, or worthy of where you are in life as everyone around you thinks you are. It can be a toxic, self-deprecating and sometimes debilitating sensation, making you feel entirely alone when really everyone around you is most likely in exactly the same boat.

    No motivation

    From a little of my own experience, and through speaking to others in the field, I know this feeling has only grown stronger among my peers as a result of the coronavirus pandemic.

    After almost a year of online learning, open book exams and, in some cases, a complete lack of the hands-on practice and subsequent reassurance we should all be receiving right now, it’s only natural things don’t feel quite right.

    No motivation. Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels

    Being cooped up all day, and going long periods of time without seeing friends and loved ones, certainly doesn’t inspire productivity, and it can be hard to stay motivated with nothing to look forward to on the horizon – whether that’s a long holiday in the sun or just a nice catch-up with your mates down the pub at the end of the week.

    Under pressure

    After a year of lockdowns with nothing else to do, I think it’s all too easy to put too much pressure on yourself to accomplish everything because, look, you’ve never had this much free time before!

    I’ve heard from lots of students who think – especially due to last year’s open book exams – that they “don’t deserve to be here“; that they haven’t worked as hard as they could have, or should have; that they’ve dropped the standard, so to speak.

    But that’s the thing, even if it doesn’t feel like you’re working as hard as your old self used to in “the before world of February 2020 and earlier”, that’s because this is a completely different kind of work.

    Marathon effort

    It’s so much easier to sit down and do a day’s work with no distractions when the rest of your life is stable, but when it’s not, even the little things can become difficult – and that’s okay.

    Take marathon runners, for example: capable of running for miles and miles, so of course, that first mile, or even the first 10, probably feel like nothing (as a max 10km runner I wouldn’t know personally, but I can assume).

    That 25th mile, though – when they’ve already come so far, they’re worn out and their energy reserves are entirely depleted – is probably the hardest one of all. It’s likely a challenge to just put one foot in front of the other. It’s going to feel like they’re working 1,000 times harder than they had to for that first mile, even though the distance hasn’t changed – the conditions have.

    Photo by Tembela Bohle from Pexels

    Third and final (?) leg

    As the third lockdown trickled ever so slowly onwards, I think everyone felt like they were just trying to keep up on what they hope is going to be the last leg of this unprecedented journey.

    For marathon runners at least, they know how long that run is going to be, so they can go all out on that final sprint. In lockdown terms, though, we don’t really know when this race is going to be over (despite the Government’s road map out of lockdown) – and that makes it okay to not feel like you have to give it your all every single day, but leave some in the tank so you can keep going the next day and the next.

    No shame

    What I’m trying to say (through some very dodgy metaphors) is that we’ve all come so far, and there is no shame in taking extra days off, or extra rest breaks; that if you passed an exam or a year at vet school – open books or not – you deserved that pass.

    It was probably one of the hardest exams you ever had to take, at the dawn of a global pandemic when no one knew up from down or left from right.

    We all need to be proud of ourselves for whatever we’ve achieved over the past 12 months, even if that’s just making it through and being there for each other.

  • The other side of the consult table, part 2

    The other side of the consult table, part 2

    Never have I seen my cat so happy as the days post-operation when she was flying high on pain relief (I personally remember being quite grumpy the days after I had a tooth removed, but Bluebell seemed entirely unphased), but that doesn’t mean bringing an animal home from an operation is plain sailing.

    The initial internal struggle of a vet student handing their beloved pet over to fellow vets is shortly followed by the hurdles of “medication dose mathematics” and valiant attempts to get said pet to ingest said medication.

    I once thought myself quite adept in the arts of pill-giving when Bluebell was on a course of steroids, up until the day when she’d had enough and spat it back out directly into my jacket pocket.

    However, once these hurdles have been mastered, teaching my parents to do the same can be a whole other ball game…

    A little knowledge goes a long way

    I think having even a little veterinary background can be a useful thing when you bring a pet back home from something big like this. You are reassured by the knowledge of what to expect and what can be counted as “normal”.

    Whether it’s coming downstairs to a very full litter tray in the morning – as was my poor mother’s experience – or dealing with some temporary behavioural changes, a reduced appetite, sleepiness or cleaning up after the occasional accident.

    Forbearance

    It’s all part of the process. No human wakes up right as rain the day after a big procedure, and when you’re only small, even a minor operation can be a huge ordeal. As with most things, patience is the key.

    I do feel quite sorry for the animals who undergo to the trauma of an operation and are then forced to return to the scene of the crime a week later in the guise of a “check-up”.

    But, thankfully, when we bundled Bluebell bottom-first into her carrier for the second time, all was well.

    Fang facts

    In fact, we learned she is managing to lose not only weight – which, since she’s always been a bit of a chonker, came as a nice surprise – but teeth!

    Only one in the actual teeth clean however – apparently another five have been lost at some point in her life, with all of us being entirely none the wiser!

    Luckily, I think the fact that she is still a chonker is evidence enough that losing those teeth didn’t phase her in the slightest.

  • The other side of the consult table, part 1

    The other side of the consult table, part 1

    There comes a time when even doctors and nurses have to make a visit to their local GP (perhaps somewhat begrudgingly), and I wonder if that evokes a similar feeling to when veterinary professionals take their own pets into an appointment?

    My own cat is going in to get her teeth cleaned in a matter of days, and although it is by no means her first trip to the vets, the act of taking her in feels slightly more surreal to me now than it did before I began my training and gained a more similar perspective to that of the vet or vet nurse behind the consult table.

    Familiar faces

    I’ve volunteered at my local practice for years and know the more senior members of staff rather well, but a newer face will obviously ask me the standard check-up questions and explain things the way they would with any other owner.

    To be honest, I never know whether to pretend it’s all new to me or admit I’m a third year vet student; I worry it sounds a bit off to just come out with it without being prompted – a bit like meeting Gordon Ramsay and blurting out that you, too, own several cook books and make a mean Shepherd’s pie.

    The hardest part

    The last time my cat, Bluebell had to undergo an operation I unfortunately had classes, and although the vet in question knew me well and offered to let me watch, I wasn’t able to – and with a small twist of irony, now that I am free as a bird, the logistics of COVID mean that I must once again sit this one out.

    Along with being the unfortunate messenger of the truly unknowable cost of a procedure to your parents (whose eyes widen at even your lowest estimates, though you try to explain it’s best to get it out of the way when she’s young and healthy), knowing the risks is probably one of the hard parts of being any medical professional – from hearing someone cough, and unconsciously jumping to the worst-case scenarios, to taking your pet in for routine surgery with the anaesthesia mortality statistics circa 2018 committed to memory.

    Not in control

    As ever, the advice you’d give to someone else never has quite the same effect when you try telling it to yourself, and when you’ve experienced the position of the person “in the driver’s seat”, so to speak, it can be hard to surrender control.

    COVID allowing, I would like to be in that operating room myself – and not just because it would be the first lot of EMS I’ve managed to wangle in the past nine months, but because, even if you are distanced from the world of veterinary medicine for any length of time, it never distances itself from you.

  • Could COVID-19 close the door to the veterinary course?

    Could COVID-19 close the door to the veterinary course?

    It has long been a fear – among those inside the profession and outside – that university places to study veterinary medicine are not as accessible as they should be.

    There is a perception the course, if not the vocation, is slightly elitist – not helped by the impression of most clients that the medical bills they are unaccustomed to paying for themselves mean vets must be absolutely rolling in it.

    I certainly think of myself as extraordinarily lucky to have snagged one of the over-subscribed university places four years ago. I had parents who could afford the time and who were willing to drive me to various EMS placements, and I lived in close proximity to friendly veterinary practices with the patience to have me shadowing them every week.

    Resources

    I also went to a school with the resources to support me through my studies and had a stable and happy home life, which gave me the secure space I needed to revise and prepare for interviews. I even had a grandmother willing and able to drop everything to fly to the other end of the UK for my Edinburgh interview at pretty much last minute’s notice.

    Veterinary medicine is an incredibly competitive, and sometimes arduous, application process, and even students with all the money, time, and educational and familial support in the world struggle to make it in.

    I can only imagine how the added pressure of COVID-19 could have made this process so much harder and reduced its accessibility even further.

    Striking a toll…

    When you combine the mental health pandemic secondary to the coronavirus pandemic with the mental health crisis affecting medical students at every stage of their training – even as early as pre-interview – it becomes apparent how striking a toll this year may have had on some would-be vets.

    Money can also, unfortunately, be a crucial factor when applying to any university position. With the financial burden impressed on countless families since the start of 2020 – and with national unemployment sky-rocketing – the door to further education may be closing to many more.

    Parents worrying about job losses and money problems may be less able to support a child through the application process, and those students coming from complicated or disruptive households have not had the option to take their studies elsewhere – namely a café or school library.

    Tears in tiers

    Those students who have remained in Tier 3 for the majority of the year will have been hit harder by these factors than those in lower tiers.

    Concerns have also risen for international students and maintaining diversity in the course. Overseas vets and vet students are invaluable in many facets of veterinary medicine – for example, they make up a large proportion of vets working in food safety and public health.

    I think it’s important that universities consider an application from every angle and consider the less obvious setbacks brought about by COVID-19 that are perhaps being over-looked. I want the veterinary community to be diverse and self-supporting, and this starts at the very beginning.

  • In the pink

    In the pink

    I can probably count the number of blood samples I’ve taken to date on a single hand.

    That does sound pitiful, I know, but please hold off on any judgement as I was unfortunate enough this year to have a total of 10 weeks’ work experience cancelled due to the recent pandemic.

    Like everyone else, I suppose, I saw 2020 panning out a lot differently as I began it… but from dark clouds come silver linings, and I am now proud to say that one of my startlingly few blood samples was drawn earlier this month from a flamingo.

    Going to the zoo, zoo, zoo

    My cohort is probably luckier than most, as the large majority of our learning is conducted online, with the exception of the occasional in-person presentation, practical or day’s work at Bristol Zoo Gardens.

    flamingo
    Eleanor takes bloods from a flamingo, under the close supervision of a zoo vet / Bristol lecturer.

    However, I’ll be candid and say the involvement of the local zoo in the running of my masters was the thing that really drew me in the most, the money and time being a small consequence if I had the chance to work alongside those who were living my dream – a dream I’d harboured for more than a decade and a half.

    And while I’m sure the thrill of my day’s work with those lucky individuals will fade (though it hasn’t yet), I think that short window spent working with the most amazing creatures and talented professionals almost makes up for all the time lost this summer.

    A very different experience

    It’s safe to say that working with wildlife versus small domestic animals is an entirely different ball game. For example, I have a friend who had a week’s EMS in a practice specialising in wildlife and spent most of the first day chasing a deer around a local park.

    Even if you are lucky enough to have the wild animal behind closed doors and easily accessible, or even if it’s already restrained or half-tranquilised, it’s astonishing how difficult a simple routine check-up and x-ray can become.

    It can take time to safely capture and restrain an animal, especially one as long and ungainly as a flamingo (don’t let the croquet scene in Alice in Wonderland fool you). Add this to the time taken to anaesthetise it, draw bloods, run checks, top up its fluids, take several x-rays from an array of angles – all while maintaining COVID-19 regulations on top of pre-existing health and safety considerations. It was no wonder my friend and I had about five minutes to wolf down our lunch before running off to the afternoon’s activities.

    Meal for none

    As a person who loves their food, it is with great surprise that I say I have never been so happy to skip a meal in all my life. I think I would have quite happily gone on working through until midnight, had government COVID-19 policy not mandated we leave the zoo by 5pm. I honestly didn’t want to leave, but I walked away with a strong respect for all of the staff working there on a daily basis.

    Working as a vet requires a sack full of patience at the best of times, but working with wild animals brings the job to another level. Not only do you strike the balance every day between interfering too much or too little, no other medical professional has to work with patients every day who are so unwanting of your help and will stop at nothing to get away.

    I do think that if doctors and nurses had to use bait to draw their patients in, bar the practice doors, and then try to grab them one by one with a very large net, medicine courses might not be quite so over-subscribed.