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Tag: clinical

  • Reverse culture shock

    Reverse culture shock

    As mentioned in a recent post, I spent this summer in South America. This involved a couple of weeks in Peru and six weeks in Bolivia, volunteering for the charity Inti Wara Yassi, which runs three animal sanctuaries.

    Jordan and Carlos
    Jordan and Carlos

    During my time there, I was allocated a puma to walk every day, as well as being given other responsibilities looking after the “house animals”. This involved preparing food and cleaning of enclosures for the birds in the aviary, chanchos (pigs), tapirs and tejons (coatimundi).

    It was also important to provide different forms of enrichment to each of these animals, tailored to their specific needs. I also participated in some essential construction work, such as building a new puma management cage and contributing to a set of monkey enclosures.

    Accepting the extraordinary

    To begin with, it was surreal to be living in the jungle and working so closely with such potentially dangerous animals. But before long, sleeping beneath mosquito nets, eating dinner (usually rice) at a candlelit table and having only a deck of cards and each other’s company for entertainment became the norm.

    There was no electricity at the animal parks and only cold showers, which were surprising refreshing after the heat and humidity of the day.

    Every day was a constant battle against mosquitos and we had to make the compromise between wearing enough layers to minimise being bitten and not overheating in the tropical environment. But we soon got used to the lifestyle.

    Caring for Carlos

    The daily commute to my puma, Carlos, involved a 15 minute walk through a waist-high swamp. I learned to love the swamp and accepted it as part of my daily routine, in addition to caring for and walking Carlos. Building a bond with him was incredibly rewarding and unlike anything I’d ever done before. I learnt so much from him and the other volunteers who were caring for different cats.

    Jordan and the team of volunteers at Inti Wara Yassi.

    Although my time with Carlos counted as pre-clinical EMS, there was a vet on site, which allowed me to understand the minimal equipment and sheer lack of resources available to the animals in developing countries such as Bolivia.

    Before experiencing it first hand, I would never have understood the problems these animals face and the struggle to resolve them, mainly due to lack of funds.

    Life-changing experience

    I had mixed feelings about coming home. I loved every minute of my time away – I’d made some great friends and had adjusted to living with utter basics – but it was strange to be suddenly immersed in the media-obsessed world once more.

    Even small things like flushing toilets were a novelty at first. Crossing roads in the UK seemed unnatural when I’d gotten used to everything being the opposite way around. But slowly, I think I’m getting back into the swing of university life again.

    Going to South America really was life-changing, in more ways than I could have imagined. It opened my eyes to a different way of life and allowed me to appreciate so much that we take for granted in day to day life.

    The experience truly reminded me why I want to be a vet. I hope that one day I can use my skills and knowledge to make a difference, and help people in developing countries care for their animals.

  • One year as a vet student

    Jordan

    Having received my results for the professional exams, I can finally say that I’ve finished my first year at vet school!

    Being brutally honest, the first term was a bit of a culture shock. I had focused so much on getting into vet school and being a vet that I didn’t really think about what it would be like when I actually got there.

    Coming from a town on the edge of the countryside in the heart of England and moving to Glasgow was quite a change. Although the vet school is on the edge of the city in a fairly green area, it wasn’t the same as being able to cycle 10 miles on quiet country roads to the farm where my horses are kept.

    I think what I found the hardest was not being able to ride. I had gone from riding my horse every day to having a lesson with the uni riding club once a week. Owning a horse is a lifestyle, and not something I wanted to give up.

    While the first term was largely spent getting used to the mountainous workload, I managed to squeeze other things into my time. Many of my friends from home went to uni a year earlier than me and have told me that Fresher’s Week is the craziest uni experience. But none of them are vets, and they don’t know what AVS Sports weekend is (an annual event hosted by the Association of Veterinary Students). This year, it was held in Glasgow, so we didn’t do any traveling, but certainly experienced the madness of meeting people from every other vet school, who came in all shapes and sizes – penguins, mimes, power rangers and more.

    Another annual inter-vet-school event for us is Dick Day, where Glasgow competes against Edinburgh – The Royal (Dick) School of Veterinary Studies – in various team sports. Again, this year, it was held in Glasgow. Unlike AVS, the sport on Dick Day is serious and there was a strong sense of rivalry between the schools. I was part of the vet hockey team, but unfortunately we did not defeat the Dick vets in our match.

    After battling through a long term of learning at a hundred times the rate we were used to and facing the stress of the class exams, I started the second term knowing better what to expect. I threw myself into getting fit for Easter by swimming, cycling and gyming. I also took up a weekly creative writing class that was put on by the Glasgow uni English department, to rekindle my love of writing.

    At Easter, I had my first taste of EMS in the form of my first time lambing. The placement was great – we got loads of hands-on experience and got involved in all aspects of lambing time. We learnt loads, and everything from those seemingly endless sheep lectures started to sink in. Although tiring, we enjoyed every bit of it.

    I also spent a week in Norway doing a charity dog sledding challenge to raise money for the Warwickshire and Northamptonshire Air Ambulance, who saved my life when I had a serious riding accident two years previously. My family and I had spent a year raising money by doing bucket collections, making Christmas decorations, selling Valentines Day cupcakes, and selling bedding plants. The challenge was fantastic – I loved working with the dogs and getting to see the beautiful Arctic landscape.

    However, the day after I landed back in the UK, I was driving back to Glasgow to face revision and the end of year professional exams. I especially began to feel the pressure, because I had arranged to be abroad during the summer when resits would be scheduled (not a wise move, and not something I’d recommend).

    We had exams in five subjects: anatomy, physiology, biomolecular sciences, animal husbandry and veterinary professional and clinical skills (VPCS). While I felt most of them went OK, I was almost certain I’d mucked up VPCS after the first day of practicals, having gotten flustered and putting sharps in the wrong bin (we make such idiots out of ourselves when we’re nervous).

    During the first month of the summer holidays (while avoiding thinking about the inevitable doom that results would bring), I did some dairy EMS. I’d never been on a dairy farm before and found the experience extremely useful in improving handling skills and my understanding of the dairy industry. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I’d retained from the two cattle lectures we’d had so far.

    Without warning, our results started to trickle in, one subject at a time… and so began the momentary relief after receiving one and then the rising anticipation for the next one. Finally, the last one came in, and by some miracle (or so it felt), I had passed all of them! All that worrying about being away for resits was extinguished, and now I could get on with preparing for the next set of EMS I had planned… six weeks in Bolivia in a wildlife sanctuary.

    And so I have passed first year. It’s been hard work and no doubt second year will be harder, but vet school hasn’t defeated me yet!

  • Too many graduates, not enough jobs?

    Too many graduates, not enough jobs?

    Graduates
    The increasing number of veterinary graduates has had “little impact” on job prospects, survey claims.

    No doubt spurred on by a survey carried out by the Institute of Employment Studies (on behalf of the RCVS), this last week has seen an interesting focus on the availability of jobs within the veterinary profession.

    Curiously enough, the survey seems to show that the increasing number of graduates over the past few years has had “little impact” on job prospects. In fact, it shows that an average of 94% of graduates seeking a role in clinical practice found work within six months.

    Surprisingly, this figure did not change significantly over the five years under consideration, despite UK graduate numbers increasing by around a quarter in the same period. It did take them slightly longer to secure a post, but they still got there!

    Mind you, the situation changes rather dramatically if you want to work with horses. Results of a second survey revealed by (who else?) BEVA suggests there may be up to five times as many graduates wanting to work in equine practice as there are jobs available.

    Overall, however, results of the RCVS survey may slightly allay the fears of current vet students and recent graduates. But you can’t help but wonder what the situation will be like for those looking for employment when Surrey lets its first cohort loose on the veterinary job market.

    Plus, with the BVA citing rumours of even more new veterinary schools on the horizon, the future of veterinary employment does start to look a lot less certain.

  • Robotic milking: the future of dairy farming?

    Robotic milking: the future of dairy farming?

    Milking robot
    Robots mean that dairy farmers’ working hours are much better – no early morning or late night milking.

    When I organised to do some dairy EMS, the farmer told me he doesn’t work at “ridiculously early hours” because he has milking robots. It sounded incredibly sci-fi and I didn’t really know what to expect, but when he first showed me around the farm and explained how they work, I was extremely impressed.

    The robot recognises each individual by an electronic tag, which is strapped around one leg and also acts as a pedometer. Everything is completely automated – there isn’t even any need for manual attachment of the cows teats; the robots not only have built in lasers which are used to locate them, but also remember the rough position of them for each cow. The robots are programmed to milk the desired amount for each cow. The cows are free to come to the robots for milking whenever they want, but if they return too soon to be milked again, the robot will allow them to pass through without being milked.

    The robots dramatically reduce the incidence of mastitis, since the clusters are much more hygienic for the cows than those in a parlour. They’re automatically washed in between each cow, in addition to the teats themselves being cleaned both before and after milking. The number of foot problems is reduced since there is no queueing to get into a parlour. There is less strain on the udder because the cows are not limited to specific times for milking. Milking is also much more efficient, since each quarter of the udder is treated individually, so no teat is under or over-milked.

    When a cow calves, the robot is programmed to begin milking her, in small amounts to start with. For the first couple of milkings, the robot sends the milk to a separate tank, so the colostrum can be given to the newborn calf.

    Lots of data is provided by the robot. The pedometer gives a minute-by-minute recording of activity level, which can be used to see when the cow is bulling, and so indicates when to AI the cow. The robot itself also conducts a basic analysis of the milk produced by each cow, which gives an immediate indication of quality and can provide an early warning for conditions such as mastitis, even before clinical signs appear.

    Milking robot
    Will there be a major shift towards robotic milking in the future?

    There’s also obvious advantages for the farmer. Working hours are much better – no early morning or late night milking. Such a decrease in the labour needs means that there’s much money to be saved that would be spent employing staff.

    However, all of this comes at a cost. The big question is whether the huge initial cost for a robot outweighs the time and money they save the farmer. The robots are computerised so a steep learning curve would need to be undertaken to get used to the technology, which isn’t something that all farmers would be prepared to do.

    Of course, the sceptics will also be asking “what if it goes wrong?” After all, computers aren’t flawless.

    The farmer I’ve been working with has two robots, and says that they do have occasional faults, but he always has the second one as a back up to be used while the other is being repaired. The technicians are on call 24/7, so the robots usually get fixed quickly. He said that, only once, both robots went down due to a fault with the computer system. It was brief, but while the repair was going on, the old milking parlour was used.

    The milking robot is certainly a very clever piece of kit. Robots have slowly become more popular over the last few years as the machinery has become more reliable. But will there be a major shift towards robotic milking in the future? Will the younger generations of farmers be more inclined to use robots in order to maintain a lifestyle with better working hours? I think that robots are the next step in the evolution of dairy farming, but it’s impossible to tell how long it’ll take for them to be used by the vast majority.

  • Pectus excavatum in cats

    Pectus excavatum is a common congenital malformation of the sternum and costochondral cartilages affecting cats, especially males. (more…)

  • Common vs anatomical

    In anatomy, we have the ongoing debate about whether we need to use the anatomical names for bones or the “common” equivalent. Though we are examined only on the anatomical terms, how important is it to be aware of the others?

    Credit: Owain Davies
    Credit: Owain Davies

    “In the distal limb, we have the third metacarpal bone, proximal, middle and distal phalanges and the proximal and distal sesamoids.”

    Imagine saying that to a horsey client. You’d probably receive a blank look.

    Horsey translation: “Cannon bone, long pastern bone, short pastern bone, pedal bone, navicular bone and sesamoids.”

    Now the client more than likely has a rough idea of what you’re going on about.

    The importance of being able to relate the different terms is not only essential to the client-vet relationship, but also to your credibility. If someone were to ask about swelling around the cannon bone, and you only know it as the third metacarpal, things become somewhat awkward.

    Perhaps it comes down to experience. Those of us from horsey backgrounds take things like that for granted. But it’s not just names of bones. I’m sure during our clinical years, we will learn about equine exertional rhabdomyolysis. Again, a horse owner probably won’t have a clue what that is. Mention azoturia, tying up or Monday morning disease, and you’re now on the same page.

    Although anatomical names are “correct”, I feel that the importance of common names is paramount, and this should be emphasised more to us as students.