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  • The person behind the grades

    The person behind the grades

    This year has thrown a lot of annual landmarks into disarray, and A-levels were no exception; my heart went out to all the students this month whose results days did not go entirely to planned.

    It has been three years since I went, heart in mouth, to receive my own dreaded envelope.

    Even when I’d already learned that I’d been accepted by Bristol vet school just an hour before, it didn’t feel real until I saw those grades for myself on a physical piece of paper, so I can only imagine the anguish of children all over the country who did not get the same experience.

    All the difference

    The Government’s decision to roll back the downgrading of thousands of A-level results has left me grateful and relieved, because the fact of the matter is, if I had been sitting in the class of 2020 rather than that of 2017, I don’t think I would have made it to where I am now.

    Back in 2017, I received D grades in both my mock exams for chemistry. It was a jarring experience and pushed me to dedicate all my efforts into getting the A grades I needed for when it really counted.

    Without the patient, supportive and hands-on help I received from my teachers in the months between my mocks and the real exams, I would never have gotten that A. If you asked me to get the same results without that support, and through the stress and uncertainty of a global pandemic, I think I may have burst out crying.

    Meaningless mocks

    The thing to keep in mind is, I don’t think that second scenario would have made me any less capable of being a veterinary professional, yet I would have been denied that future.

    This article is not meant to be political because, of course, no perfect solution exists; for a time as unprecedented as this, there could never possibly be one. I can, however, tell you that, using my own past as evidence, mocks no more define a student’s ability or aptitude than GCSE or A-level grades define that student.

    The difference between a B and an A can be as simple as a good or bad night’s sleep before an exam, the ability to afford a tutor or the home life a student returns to even after the best day’s schooling in the world.

    Diversification

    Another reason I’m so glad for the Government’s change of heart is because I wholeheartedly believe that every course and profession – especially professional ones like veterinary medicine – is bettered and made stronger by having a diverse body of people from a variety of backgrounds.

    The veterinary course is sometimes accused of being “elitist” – I think because of the work it takes to even gain an interview. When you factor in travel costs, work experience opportunities and academic support, the door becomes closed to more and more people.

    Diversity.
    With veterinary courses sometimes accused of being “elitist”, Eleanor is pleased by the Government’s change of heart because she believes every course and profession is bettered and made stronger by having a diverse body of people. Image © fizkes / Adobe Stock

    What makes a vet?

    I have also spoken before about how I don’t believe academic ability is all that it takes to make a good vet.

    People skills, compassion, determination, resilience and a level head are all things that individuals need to take with them into any professional vocation. An understanding of science and maths is undeniably important, as is the ability to retain large quantities of information, problem solve and reason.

    But if you focus on the grades alone, you only see half the person – in the case of this year, maybe even less.

    Recognising value

    I hope the changing grades for those with their hearts set on a place on a veterinary or human medicine course this year did not come too late. As some of the most over-subscribed courses, places are filled almost instantly.

    I also hope every university recognises both the uniqueness of the times and the value of the person behind each results sheet.

  • Chasing waterfalls

    Chasing waterfalls

    Sticking to what you’re used to is both safe and comfortable; getting to where I am now was neither of those things. All through secondary school, people told me trying to become a vet was too much effort – that if I was having to try as hard as I was, then maybe it wasn’t worth it.

    Now, as I prepare to intercalate between the third and fourth years of my vet course, I have people balking at the idea of taking on an additional hurdle.

    The truth is I’ve been hurtling along these tracks I’ve laid for myself for an awfully long time – back before I knew superhero wasn’t a viable backup career or that, sadly, you have to be born a princess.

    A different path

    It’s a scary concept to hop on to a new path for a while – one that isn’t so black and white – and steer in the direction of what I think is north. But it’s also very exciting.

    From September, I’ll be undertaking an MSc Global Wildlife Health and Conservation course – and recently receiving an update email on what my intercalation course will look like post-outbreak made me almost giddy with anticipation.

    Government guidelines and international pandemics permitting, I’m looking forward to a lot of hands-on, skill-based learning, working on interpreting data and building my own research project (more on that to come).

    Less of the same

    All vet courses taught up and down the country are very similar (because they have to be) and, therefore, reward you with a certain skill set and career outlook. By intercalating I am hoping to expand each of these to narrow in my sights on the areas of animal-centred fields that strike the strongest chords within me.

    From the first day of vet school my eyes began opening to the impacts of our lives on the populations of the species with whom we share this planet; issues I wasn’t happy to tolerate and didn’t even know I had been.

    Big, jaw-dropping horrors like dolphin hunting, stereotypes of captive animals and chicks on conveyor belts hurtling towards a meat grinder, down to the more subtle disasters such as quickly evaporating insect populations, awoke in me the drive I’d had as an infant to do this job in the first place.

    Making animals better

    As a six-year-old girl, my idea of what it meant to be a vet was simply “a person who made animals feel better”. At that age, I don’t think the concept was any more nuanced than that. But looking back, 15 years on, I don’t think it has to be.

    I know I’m not alone in wanting to leave this world a little better than I found it, and if this next year I’m embarking on brings me a little closer to my goal then I wouldn’t want to lose a single second.

    Complicated

    The big problems the veterinary community faces – along with the world as a whole – aren’t going to be changed overnight. My own lifestyle is an embodiment of just how complicated they are:

    • I agree all animals are entitled to freedom from pain and suffering, and although I try to reduce my consumption of meat, I am not vegetarian or vegan.
    • I do not believe in the captivity of large aquatic mammals, but as a child I enjoyed my visits to SeaWorld and wildlife parks to watch the dolphin shows.

    I don’t expect to solve the big issues or answer the big questions, but I want to contribute in any way I can.

    Unfortunately, conservation and exotics are not currently primary areas of study on the veterinary course, and yet I cannot help but pursue them. I hope to bring the worlds together in the coming years, and fight for change with a double-edged sword.

  • Makes Me Smile

    Makes Me Smile

     

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    VN Times calendar competition 22 voting – terms and conditions:

    1. From all of the photos submitted as part of the VN Times Makes Me Smile calendar competition, 30 entries have been shortlisted by our panel of judges. We are now asking readers of VN Times and Vet Times and users of vettimes.co.uk to vote for their favourite image from the final 30.
    2. Five voters will be picked at random from the votes received on vettimes.co.uk to each win a £10 Amazon.co.uk gift card. The winners will be notified by Monday November 9, 2020. Winners can only be registered users of www.vettimes.co.uk who are veterinary professionals.
    3. Voting begins on October 1, 2020 and votes must be received by midnight (UK time) on Sunday October 25, 2020 via vettimes.co.uk
    4. The entry with the most votes will win a £500 Amazon.co.uk email gift voucher and his or her picture will feature both inside and on the cover of the 2021 calendar. The remaining months inside the calendar will feature 11 entries with the next highest votes and will each win a £50 Amazon.co.uk email gift voucher.
    5. Only one vote per person.
    6. The Makes Me Smile competition is run by VN Times which is a registered trademark of Veterinary Business Development Ltd, Olympus House, Staniland Way, Werrington Centre, Werrington, Peterborough PE4 6NA.
    7. By entering the competition you are giving Veterinary Business Development Ltd consent to retain your data for six months.
    8. There is no cash alternative to the prizes.
    9. The VN Times 2021 wall calendar will be mailed with the December 2020 issue of VN Times.

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  • Grieving as a professional

    Grieving as a professional

    The pet of a close friend of mine has just passed away. Zilla the black Lab was the most beloved dog, who had a fondness both for rummaging through the bins and belly scratches.

    She’d had progressive problems with her health and, earlier this month, it became clear that, sadly, the time had come for her to leave.

    I’m sure that, just as parent’s try not to prioritise one child over the other, vets do their best not to pick their favourites, but in my mind it’s an inevitable outcome of having a human inside the white coat; some little lives are bound to touch us more than others, sometimes without us even knowing or in ways we didn’t realise until we properly reflect.

    Early consults

    Without me realising it, Zilla wove herself into my early veterinary evolution. When we were younger, my friend and I would often joke that I would be Zilla’s vet in the future.

    thumbnail_Zilla 2
    Eleanor Goad‘s first “patient”.

    Even in the era of early GCSEs, friends would consult me on topics ranging from “that strange rash came back” to “she’s eaten half the box of Celebrations – wrappers and all!”

    Young, utterly underqualified and fully aware of the fact, I would always advise the friend to consult a real professional – but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t take a little pride each time in being asked, or that I didn’t take a deep interest in the outcome or feel the emotional impacts of that outcome.

    Grief counsellor

    I’ve been a shoulder to cry on during the bereavement of several small furry friends, and so, without ever seeing a euthanasia in person, I am not naïve to the aftermath.

    Grief is an unavoidable part of the veterinary field, as it is a part of human medicine, and even as professionals on the other side of the examination table, it is bound to rock us from time to time.

    I worry that a part of the mental health decline in the veterinary population is a lack of addressing the small chinks in the armour that are bound to build up over the years.

    Toughen up

    Zilla’s passing hit me harder than I’d expected; she was the most beautiful dog and lit up every room she entered – and yet a part of me was telling myself I couldn’t be upset because I was going into a profession where death was part of the nine-to-five and I had to “toughen myself up” to it.

    I think it’s important for both vets and owners alike to acknowledge that they are allowed to grieve, and that the loss of an animal can hit just as hard as the loss of a person.

    Find a balance

    As a vet I am undoubtedly going to bond with many of my patients as I follow them through their lives, and their ups and downs, while striving to right all their wrongs.

    We are entitled to our emotions. It’s just about finding a balance between our responsibility as professionals to support our clients when things go downhill and the responsibility to ourselves when our mental health takes a downward spin – and to allow ourselves to grieve if we need to.

  • A nervous generation

    A nervous generation

    I read somewhere in the early days of lockdown that several rescue shelters have been experiencing 100% empty kennels for the first time since opening.

    This was truly heart-warming to hear, and seemed at first as a small silver lining around the dark clouds of the pandemic. However, it shortly came to light that demand for new pets, both young and old, was sky-rocketing.

    More households were finding they had more time on their hands. People were lonely and in need of company, or learning to better appreciate the outdoors during the unprecedented good weather and fancied a four-legged companion by their side.

    Think before you buy

    I’ve spoken before about the dangers of buying a pet during the passion of the moment, without proper consideration or planning, but as long as both are present I’m wholeheartedly for the mutual companionship that both dogs and cats can bring, especially in the current climate.

    It was only after a conversation concerning a friend’s adorable young dog – who is both the most friendly and energetic creature in the world and a little bashful when it comes to running into other dogs on her walks – that I began to think of the future and the ways in which lockdown might have inadvertently shaped the next generation of pets.

    106531876_359046358410663_3574193795805829036_n-2_sml
    Phoebe – pre-lockdown puppy of Eleanor’s friend Felix.

    Opening the social window

    A social window is a short period of time when dogs and cats are growing up, in which they are the most open and absorbent to new experiences.

    After this window has closed, these animals can become suspicious or downright terrified of anything they didn’t come across during their early days – sort of like the grandparents who are a little wary of the iPad, saying: “We never had that in my day.”

    This window has always posed a tricky obstacle in the past, as neither puppies nor kittens can legally be sold until eight weeks of age, but the social window for cats is nearing its end at around only seven weeks. So, in the past – unless breeders were well informed, educated, and responsible – lots of owners could end up with a bit of a scaredy-cat (I‘ll pause for the eye-rolls).

    The outside world

    During a young animal’s “social window” they should be experiencing a variety of scenarios and situations in both a positive and safe manner, to avoid sensitisation and steer towards a comfortable association. In the same way many of us have aversion to traumas of our past, our dogs and cats too can hold an almost unconscious grudge.

    The thing about lockdown that most new pet owners probably won’t have thought about is how it has unfortunately deprived an entire generation of young dogs and cats from experiencing enough of the world around them.

    The decreased access to outdoors and the different smells, sights, and sounds it brings might be leading to a wave of pets that will always be just a little bit trepidatious.

    cowering
    Image © feelmax / Adobe Stock

    Therapy?

    I think it needs mentioning that there is, for the most part, nothing wrong with a cautious pet – as long as the owner is aware of their pet’s disposition and knows how to manage it.

    Management can be as simple as taking them for walks during less busy times of the day, or brightly coloured coats, leads, collars or reigns to alert other dog walkers that they’re in need of a little extra space

    Addressing any behavioural ticks with proper therapy or training can also go a long way. Therapy in this case does not mean lying back on a sofa to delve deep into childhood traumas, but a gradual, supportive normalisation of stressful triggers.

    Next gen

    If we really are producing a generation of nervous pets, then it is the fault of no one person – no “bad” owners, mistakes, or malpractice; simply a product of the times – crazy, unique and unpredictable times.

    However, it is the responsibility of any owner to be supportive, observant, and proactive, regardless of your pet’s quirks or the times we live in – another example of why taking on a pet is such a huge commitment that can never be taken lightly.

    Consult with your vet if you have concerns and always be patient with your animals, just like us, they are trying their best to keep their balance on unsteady ground.

  • Mentor tip: CSF taps

    Mentor tip: CSF taps

    I remember my first CSF tap; my hands were shaking – not ideal when you are advancing a needle towards the spinal cord.

    If you go a couple of millimetres too far, the needle goes into the spinal cord and it could cause the patient to go into respiratory arrest.

    Some things I am happy to try on my own after researching, but this was not one of them.

    Subjective versus objective

    I remember being told you should feel a “pop” when you are entering the right place, but what does feeling a “pop” actually feel like or mean? This subjectiveness is what made CSF taps so stressful for me.

    The advantage I had was that my mentor was there, and removed the subjective “pop” and replaced it with an objective “see fluid”. My mentor knew the risks, but understood the importance of emergency vets knowing how to do CSF taps, as an early diagnosis of meningitis can save a patient’s life.

    Mentor’s method

    What my mentor did was create a way of teaching CSF taps that minimised risks – by teaching to look to see if you actually “see fluid”.

    He said to advance the needle 1mm at a time, then stop and look down the hub and the barrel of the needle, and check for CSF. If you’re in the right spot it comes out within a second or two.

    This method may take longer, as you are advancing the needle much more slowly, but it makes the whole process safer as you could objectively know when you are in the right spot.

    Experience

    If you are a mentor, then you are very experienced. However, it is this experience that means we can lose perspective and forget how difficult some of the things we do actually are.

    So, if you are faced with a situation where you have to teach a mentee something with high risks, rather than avoiding teaching it and doing it yourself all the time, consider ways of reducing the risks while teaching it, or teach it in a way that has additional steps that are more objective and make it safer for first-timers.

    What high-risk procedure or task have you been taught to perform by a good mentor?

  • It’s okay to take a day off

    It’s okay to take a day off

    Talk of “silver linings” at a time like this can sometimes sound like a bit of a platitude, and an irritating one at that. After all, having more time to yourself and your hobbies can wear a little thin when that is quite literally all you seem to have to do for days on end.

    For the same reason, holidays are only special because they end. Too much “you time” can make you long for the busy days of old. To quote a classic: “Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?”

    This being said, I can honestly say that this weird, once-in-a-lifetime situation has gone a long way in teaching me a truly valuable lesson in something I’ve struggled with for the best part of my academic career: switching off, taking a break and not feeling guilty for it.

    No off switch

    To some it may sound ridiculous, but I do believe a lot of people in the medical field will empathise with me when I say that, for the longest time, I’ve been guilty of nearly working myself into the ground because I considered taking even a few hours off from studying, a project, whatever it may be, was completely unjustified and a luxury I did not deserve.

    This is, of course, a horrible way to go about one’s life. If you never give yourself a chance to stop, smell the roses, and enjoy yourself for a little while, then working productively and effectively just is not achievable long term.

    Under the hood

    The human brain – and, indeed, the human body itself – is not a machine. It is not programmed for optimum efficiency 100% of the time. We’re more like a dodgy old car that needs a good amount of fuel and a lot of TLC every few miles to keep on chugging.

    Not the most attractive analogy, I grant you, but I’m sure you get my meaning.

    Before lockdown I would feel guilty for taking a short break from revision, let alone a whole day. This certainly made the first few weeks of self-isolation a challenge as there simply was not the same amount of work to do.

    New normal

    It took a while to convince myself the lack of productivity wasn’t laziness, but a product of a new and changing world – that everyone else in the world was in the same boat, riding the same crazy currents, doing the best they could.

    With this slow epiphany it’s become easier to take time off and to divide my time up into periods of work and play; I think I’ve read more books in the past two months than in the past two years – not textbooks, either, but fiction (I’d forgotten there was such a thing).

    Stronger

    The staggering of work and downtime has also helped me to find that feeling of a scheduled, regular day that I’ve been searching for since this all began – and I’ve noticed I’m much more engaged with my studies as a result.

    I hope that when normality returns (in whatever form that may be), I can remember the lessons this time has taught me and be stronger for them.

  • Overcoming impostor syndrome

    Overcoming impostor syndrome

    Are you used to doing things well, with certain skills coming naturally to you?

    Often, when you do come up against something that is more of a struggle, or you have to work harder to accomplish your aim, you then doubt your worth and whether you really are good enough. If something is difficult, then are you not as good as you thought?

    Embrace the struggle

    A strategy to overcome this persona is to embrace the struggle. The truth is, if you are not experiencing struggle, then you are not growing at all.

    When we experience difficult situations, it is a sign we are learning new skills and expanding our knowledge. It is important to remember that struggling at something is not a sign of lack of competence or inability, but just a learning phase.

    Leap of faith

    You should never wait until you feel confidence to start taking action – confidence and competence will only come through action and taking that leap of faith, so it is about changing your behaviour first.

    You are a work in progress, and no one on earth knows everything or is skilled in every walk of life.

    Strategies

    Do you feel like you have to know everything before you can start a project or take action. Perhaps you are endlessly looking for new certifications or training to improve your skills and knowledge? Maybe you only apply for jobs where you meet every bit of criteria, or you may not speak up or ask a question for fear of looking stupid.

    Sometimes this can lead to crippling self-doubt where you are letting opportunities pass you by or you miss the boat.

    If you say “I should be able to do this”, this could be another sign of impostor behaviour.

    Some strategies exist that could help – although this first one is pretty tough, especially if you have the “I should know” mindset.

    1. Get comfortable in learning

    The first strategy is to get comfortable in learning when you need to learn. Not before, but at the time, when it is needed. Many people would find this stressful, but it is super time efficient and prevents you learning things that are not needed in the now.

    Think to yourself: “I will acquire skills and knowledge when I need them, not just in case I need them.” How much time would that free up?

    2. Ask for help

    Are you someone who has to accomplish everything solo? Do you feel like a failure if you have to ask for support or help? Perhaps you see vulnerability as a weakness, and that if you ask for help it means you have failed or are not good at what you do?

    The main tool for overcoming this line of thinking is remembering that vulnerability does not equal failure. In fact, not asking people for help, support or an opinion robs a colleague of being someone of contribution and value.

    Flipping this to another perspective, what could you learn from others? How could you improve what you do by getting another perspective and insight? It could save you considerable money, time and pain down the line, even if its makes you feel weak in the moment.

    Asking for help is really empowering, as it means you are allowing someone to shine.

    3. Have a ‘trusted other’

    One tactic I have found that helps overcome impostor syndrome is to share that feeling with a trusted other – it actually weakens its power over you.

    An impostor syndrome is usually made up of secret self-talk and thoughts. Giving it a voice can free you up – plus, often saying it aloud will make you realise its triviality.

  • Do you have an impostor syndrome persona?

    Do you have an impostor syndrome persona?

    Impostor syndrome is that overwhelming feeling you don’t deserve to be where you are. It’s the niggling sense that maybe you’re not as intelligent, creative or talented as you may seem to the outside world.

    We all have this little voice in our head – your inner dialogue starts to seed the suspicion that maybe your achievements are down to luck, good timing or just being in the “right place at the right time” – and it is accompanied by the fear that, one day, you’ll be exposed as a fraud; that you’ll be “found out”.

    Some common thoughts and feelings associated with impostor syndrome include one-liners, such as:

    • “I must not fail”
    • “I’m not good enough”
    • “I can’t make a mistake”
    • “I feel like a fake”

    And when you do well or achieve something, you say:

    • “Someone made a mistake”
    • “It’s all down to luck”
    • “It’s no big deal”

    Sound familiar?

    Self-sabotage

    If you don’t learn to recognise and understand impostor syndrome for what it is, a danger exists that it can start to spiral into deeper seated feelings of self-doubt, such as fear of success, fear of failure, or even self-sabotage – which is where you are creating obstacles in your daily life that interfere with your long-term goals.

    Procrastination can become one of those self-sabotage behaviours. People who suffer from the most extreme forms of impostor syndrome live in constant fear of exposure and rejection, and it creates a feeling of isolation.

    So, when does the great hammer of impostor syndrome strike most often? Strangely it’s often when we have achieved something, or in moments of success.

    Perfectly normal

    The important thing to realise is that those feelings are completely normal. It would actually be abnormal if we didn’t have impostor moments, as it would mean we were not stretching ourselves out of our comfort zone, trying new things or showing any self-awareness.

    Why is this important? Because the actions you take in response to these feelings can either inspire you to work harder, leading to further success and recognition, or they can lead to “downshifting”. This is when you revise your goals down, play small and become less ambitious, which, in turn, prevents you from fulfilling your true potential.

    Here are two examples of impostor personas, along with some solutions to overcome them:

    1. High expectations

    Do you set extremely high expectations for yourself? If you meet 99% of your goals, does that 1% still feel like a failure? Often, any small mistake will make you question your own competence. A couple of strategies can help.

    First is developing ways of demonstrating self-compassion – remember you are entitled to make small mistakes occasionally and forgive yourself. Don’t forget to reward yourself for getting the big things right. Focus on the bigger picture and what went right, rather than the small things that didn’t.

    Also important here is pushing yourself to act before you feel ready. There is no such thing as “perfect” or “100% flawless”, so learn to accept that and focus on taking action – taking action proves you are not a fraud.

    2. Harder, better, faster, stronger

    Are you someone who pushes himself or herself to work harder and faster than those around you, to prove you’re not an impostor? Do you feel the need to succeed in all aspects of life – at work, as parents, as partners – and often feel stressed when you are not accomplishing something? Perhaps you struggle to relax or take a break?

    The first strategy to overcome this is seeking internal validation – start training yourself to veer away from external validation. As you become more attuned to internal validation and able to nurture your inner confidence that states you’re competent and skilled, you won’t feel that need to push to work harder than everyone else just to prove yourself.

    Secondly, call out the lies and the limiting beliefs inside your head about what you need to prove. Give yourself credit for your achievements and brilliance, and think about what other people say about you – your clients, colleagues, friends and family.

    It is probably only you who sees the negative, so write down your achievements and the positive feedback from those around you into a positivity journal – and when you are having rubbish days, go back and read through it.

    Did either of these relate to you?

    • Next week’s tip will cover three more impostor personas and solutions.
  • Practice in practices makes perfect, in practice…

    Practice in practices makes perfect, in practice…

    In a world currently filled with sacrifice and compromise, the cancellation of a week’s EMS over the Easter holidays did not, at first glance, seem like a hardship.

    Of course I had been looking forward to my first ever farm-practice placement – especially as only a week or so before I had tried my hand at my very first rectal exam and even understood, with sudden and unexpected glee, what some of those lumps and bumps actually were.

    But the idea of a little extra time with the family and a whole additional week to focus on upcoming exams meant that, initially, I was not too disheartened.

    What does it mean?

    Now we’re several weeks deep into lockdown, with no clear end date on the calendar and firm Government advice to “not expect a return to normality anytime soon”, what does this mean for my friends, colleagues and peers at veterinary school – my unlucky year in particular? The situation is different for each year.

    First-year students

    Poor freshers have had to miss out on Easter lambing season – an unspoken rite of passage into the vet student community. After all, if you’ve never come home without bodily fluids in your hair, are you really one of us?

    Second-year students

    Second years are having to postpone pre-clinical EMS, compared to those in their fourth year who are sacrificing what could be termed “the good stuff” – that is, real problems in real practices, suturing, injecting, slicing, dicing and all of that (though maybe not the last one). But hopefully the majority of these students will have managed to gain experience in their respective levels of training over the summer of 2019.

    Final-year students

    Final years have been somewhat of a priority, and rightly so, with special arrangements being made to ensure they graduate fully qualified and at no more of a disadvantage than those who graduated the year before.

    My friends and I

    Enter now the third years – the year I myself am a part of.

    This year marks a transition for us; a stepping stone from sweeping dung from a variety of sources and essentially stepping back to watch the magic happen, to actually doing the magic – or at least attempting it with a sweaty brow under the watchful eye of several veteran professionals.

    It’s a big thing. A big, scary, daunting prospect of a thing, but a thing nonetheless – and, given the uncertainty we’re facing in terms of what the future holds for anything and everything, the question is being opened as to what this means for the next generation of vets.

    Abnormal

    We’ve been told by many officials not to expect “normality” for some time.

    “Normality” in this case meaning “the way we’ve always done things” – crowding together in coffee shops, restaurants, and hospital and practice waiting rooms without a care in the world.

    “Virus? What virus?” we would say.

    But, although certain establishments can change the way they operate – cafés can upregulate hygiene and waiting rooms can impose distancing restrictions – EMS is another matter entirely.

    Impractical

    Veterinary practices and animal hospitals are undoubtedly some of the cleanest places in the world – because they have to be – and vets themselves are no strangers to singing Happy Birthday twice before eating their lunch. But opening their doors to one or several new vet students each and every week in the coming months might just not be feasibly possible.

    A lot of practices – especially independents – are small compared to their human counterparts, which has never really been a problem for us because, luckily, a lot of animals are also rather small. It does mean, however, that, a lot of the time, the two-metre rule just wouldn’t be practical – even if your only purpose is to stand and observe.

    For those still needing to undertake pre-clinical placements, a whole new set of challenges exist, including the willingness of farmers to take on students whose help would not be essential, as viral exposure for them could mean a complete loss of livelihood.

    Preclinical conundrum

    It is an RCVS requirement for all students to complete a minimum of 12 weeks’ preclinical and 26 weeks’ clinical EMS. However, fourth-year students have already had their mandated clinical minimum halved to a mere 12 weeks.

    While other years are currently expected to be able to “make up” any missed placements before graduation, the fact the situation is constantly in flux means the RCVS has admitted further reductions may be needed.

    While this would certainly be helpful and take some of the pressure off for those of whom meeting the usual requirements would be an impossible feat, one has to worry how this will affect student confidence in the long run.

    Key experiences

    There is a reason the RCVS has always asked for a certain amount of EMS, and while the number seems daunting at first, it’s only during (or perhaps after) each placement that you can truly see its value.

    Practice makes perfect – but, more than that, it builds confidence. It provides an environment in which mistakes are not life-threatening and are safe to be learned from.

    With the loss of these key experiences that have helped shape generation after generation of vet students, it is perhaps inevitable that vet schools will have to adapt even further than they already have to limit the knock-on impact of a scenario we have never had to face before.