As the end of vet school draws ever nearer, my fellow final-year students have been busy not only completing rotations, but also organising a number of events and keepsakes to act as a well-deserved send-off.
With the final-year dinner, graduation ball, final-year holiday and yearbook, we have been inundated with requests for ideas, contributions and cash.
To add to this, a number of final-year students have taken on the challenge of facing the often-gruelling weather of the north, lurking around the library after nightfall and sidling into the hospital out of hours to continue a long-standing tradition of the University of Glasgow School of Veterinary Medicine – the soon-to-be-new-graduates’ naked calendar.
Time-honoured tradition
The calendar has been a Glasgow vet school tradition for many years.
My colleagues have been baring flesh across the Scottish countryside and around the vet campus to contribute to a masterpiece of (for the most part) tasteful animal, vet or countryside-themed photos, to raise money for a number of great causes. The final-year naked calendar has been an annual fund-raiser for many years and the tradition has not died with the class of 2017.
Proceeds from sales of the calendar will be split between The Trusty Paws Clinic and Students for Animals in Need (SAIN), with a small proportion going towards our graduation ball.
It’s fantastic to be able to use the calendar tradition to support the much-loved student charities Glasgow vet school is proud to be home to.
The calendars are being sold at a pre-sale price of £8 until the end of March and will be then be available for £10 each. To order, email Alice at 2019429C@student.gla.ac.uk for bank transfer details and state how many copies are required.
Trusty Paws
The Trusty Paws Clinic was set up in Glasgow to provide free veterinary care to dogs belonging to the homeless. Students from stages of the veterinary course are involved in gaining resources, fund-raising and organisation of the monthly clinics.
The clinics involve fourth year students, supervised by a qualified vet, volunteering to conduct clinical examinations and administer basic treatments such as vaccinations, worming and flea control. I had the pleasure of being involved in a clinic last year, which enabled me to experience how appreciative the owners are.
Resources for the dogs – such as coats, food, collars and toys – are also given out at the clinics, thanks to donations via an Amazon wish list. The charity has now expanded to London, too, where RVC students run the clinics.
SAIN is a charity set up and run by students at Glasgow vet school, and offers financial aid for animals presented to the university’s Small Animal Hospital and Weipers Centre Equine Hospital that may not otherwise be able to receive the treatment they require.
Students from all year groups contribute to fund-raising and assessment of eligible cases. A number of animals have benefited from the funding available over the years.
The past couple of weeks on rotation have largely consisted of looking down a microscope or performing postmortems – and despite clinical and anatomic pathology being very different, a running theme seemed to exist across both.
On the clinical pathology week, we pored over slide after slide of blood smears and cytology samples, trying to formulate differentials from minimal or no history about the case.
We muddled through a number of biochemistry profiles and attempted interpretation, often with little or nothing to go on from the submitting clinician.
Historical significance
In anatomic pathology, we were often supplied with the history, but the clinicians would not reveal the full extent until after we had formed differential lists – even then the “full” history we were given before proceeding with postmortem examination would often be scarce.
Although we would often get there in the end, or at least in the right ballpark, I think it’s safe to say the importance of a relevant history has been drummed into us for evermore.
Going forward as new graduates – far sooner than many of us would like – I don’t think we’d dare send a sample to the university lab without filling the forms out meticulously and providing a relevant history. Making an accurate interpretation that fit the clinical picture was so much easier when a few, seemingly minor points were highlighted in the history.
The write stuff
Another lesson creeping into every rotation over the year is the sheer amount of paperwork involved in veterinary medicine – be it clinical notes, postmortem reports, lab submission forms, case reports, anaesthetic records… the list goes on.
Keeping accurate records can be the difference between being sued and being able to prove your clinical judgement at the time. Most relevant to this rotation was accurate completion of lab submission forms, so samples can be correctly identified and results sent to the right place.
It sounds obvious, but the clinical pathology staff assure us the frequency of receiving samples with important information omitted is much higher than you’d think.
Out of practice
Having explored the different aspects of clinical and anatomic pathology, while dragging a lot of material from the depths of third-year knowledge, I can appreciate how quickly some skills and understanding can be lost when you don’t practise or use them regularly.
Feeling considerably rusty at the beginning of the rotation, I feel a lot more comfortable now, but can see how vets can lose their ability or confidence to make a cytological diagnosis when in practice, especially when things get busy.
Being able to send samples to the experts is a major advantage, but I think, as new grads, we should at least have a quick look down the microscope and make a provisional call to be confirmed by the lab, rather than just sending samples straight off.
2017 has reared its hopefully not-so-ugly head, and with it comes the realisation my classmates and I are mere months from entering the real world of veterinary medicine.
The sheer number of poorly written recruitment ads has prompted Jordan to create a list of tips for advertising a job to new grad vets.
While tales of classmates getting job offers following placements become more frequent, those of us without much of a plan have, so far, remained blissfully ignorant. But now we fear our lazy flicking through the job adverts at the back of varying veterinary publications will have to become less of an exercise in procrastination and more of a quest for our future.
While my flatmate and I often indulge ourselves in shared exasperation at the lack of mixed or farm jobs, or simply flick through to see if we know the practices and try to work out who must have left, we have noticed a few patterns in poor adverts – and these mild grievances have resulted in this list of top tips for advertising a job to new grads.
(Disclaimer: these tips are not based on any success rates, merely on the opinion of myself and some of my colleagues)
Title
The most annoying thing when skimming job adverts is to read half a page of waffle, only to reach the end and realise it’s the wrong type of work or miles away from the area we’re looking around.
A short, snappy title wants to include type of work (small/farm/mixed vet), location and, perhaps, whether a new graduate is wanted. For example: “New grad position for mixed practice in Leicester.”
The practice name doesn’t really need to be there (we’ll read on to find out); the purpose of the title is to catch the eye of your prospective applicant.
Do you want a new grad?
“Suitable for new graduate” or “new graduates considered” is all we need to know. On the flip side, if you don’t want a new graduate, please say so (for example, “must have two years’ experience”), otherwise we’ll be wasting our time looking into it and wasting your time if we apply.
We also don’t really need further details on this topic. Information like “great support network for new graduate” is too wordy and the support needed will vary between individuals – we’ll only get a true feel for that on interview or trial.
Type of vet
Please, please, please say what type of practice you are or what type of vet you want. I know it sounds simple, but the number of adverts that leave me unsure whether they’re for a mixed or small animal role is frustrating. In these instances, I’ll often have to look at the practice logo to work out where to hedge my bets…
Type of vet (additional)
The term “mixed vet” doesn’t tell us a lot and “mainly SA [small animal], some LA [large animal]” doesn’t really tell us a great deal more. A clear (and preferably accurate) estimate of the likely proportions of work will give us the best idea of what to expect – “50% small, 30% farm, 20% equine”, for example.
Out-of-hours rota
Clearly stating the out-of-hours rota in an adequate amount of detail avoids any misunderstandings and helps us know what to expect from the off. For example, “1 in 3 rota” gives us a bit of an idea, but I’ve seen some really good adverts that clearly state something along the lines of: “4.5-day week with 1 in 3 weekends and 1 day off following a worked weekend.”
Things like this can be clarified at interview if not clear in the advert, but it just keeps everyone on the same page from the beginning.
Pay
Pay is not the be all and end all in a first job – and this will depend on whether other benefits are offered – but we’d still like a ballpark figure to be able to assess if what we’re being offered is reasonable.
Other benefits
A lot of practices seem to like to highlight their CPD allowance, which is all very well for those more experienced vets, but new graduates have the Personal Development Programme to occupy them in their first year of practice, so an attractive CPD allowance doesn’t mean much to us.
On the other hand, if you’re looking for a new graduate, state whether you have accommodation or a car available – again the details will be discussed at interview, but these can be a priority for some new graduates who are potentially moving to a new area. We may discard an advert that doesn’t state whether they have accommodation, even if it would transpire later they can offer some.
Final thoughts
I’m not drawn to an “all singing, all dancing” colour advert that takes up half a page in particular – the most important things for me are a clear and concise title, and an advert that is short enough to keep my attention, but includes just the right amount of detail.
Fertility work makes up a large proportion of cattle veterinary work in the UK and, after spending a month on the farm rotation at university, I can appreciate the importance of getting it right – and how hard it can be.
Experienced large animal vets make it look easy – they scan the uterus and ovaries, and decide what drug to give to aid getting the cow in calf, all in a minute or two.
In the meantime, I’m still fumbling about trying to palpate what, I think, may be the uterus or ovaries while the cow squeezes and gradually cuts off the circulation in my arm until I can barely feel my fingers.
Meanwhile, the vet has zipped through several cows already.
When things go wrong
What happens if you misdiagnose a pregnant cow as negative and administer prostaglandin, or give a cow steroids without realising she’s in calf?
On one fertility visit this week, we discussed when things go wrong. For example, what if:
you misdiagnose a pregnant cow as negative and administer prostaglandin (PGF2α)?
a vet gives a cow steroids for any number of reasons without realising she’s in calf?
The outcomes of both of these scenarios are almost inevitably abortion, which can have a number of repercussions on the farm – and, potentially, the vet.
Negligence or misconduct?
Many new graduates are terrified of being called up for “fitness to practice” for making a mistake such as those aforementioned. However, during a Veterinary Defence Society (VDS) workshop at the SPVS Lancaster weekend earlier this year, it was emphasised a difference exists between negligence and misconduct in the eyes of the RCVS.
What I took away from this session was, in simple terms, negligence involves making a mistake – such as missing a diagnosis, giving the wrong treatment accidentally, eliciting side effects from something due to missing something in the case history – whereas misconduct is actively doing something you know you shouldn’t – such as trying to cover up a mistake, lying or misleading a client.
Mistakenly giving PGF2α to a pregnant cow would be classed as negligence and, on the whole, the VDS would have your back; the farmer may receive some compensation for his losses, but the incident wouldn’t tarnish your career. In the same situation, misconduct would be denying you had administered any treatment.
In short, you won’t get struck off for easily made, one-off mistakes, but you may if you lie about them.
In the news
Our conversation about accidentally aborting cows led us to discuss the case of Honey Rose, the optometrist convicted of gross negligence manslaughter. News reports vary, but, from what I can gather, she failed to diagnose papilloedema (swollen optic discs) in an eight-year-old boy, which would have been an indication of the hydrocephalus he died of five months later.
It is reported she claimed to have been unable to examine his eyes properly because he had photophobia – a claim considered false by the judge. However, she had also failed to look at retinal photos taken by a colleague, on which the papilloedema was evident.
Going by the RCVS’ rules, missing the diagnosis or not looking at the retinal photos would be negligent. However, denying she’d been able to carry out a thorough examination, despite written records suggesting otherwise, would be misconduct.
Rose was found guilty of gross negligence manslaughter and was handed a two-year prison sentence, suspended for two years, and a 24-month supervision order, and was ordered to complete 200 hours of unpaid work.
In your defence
As vets, we have the VDS to help us in these situations – and, while it would be truly awful to make a mistake resulting in an animal’s death, we would not be at risk of imprisonment.
Doctors and dentists also have defence societies that will fight their corner, but optometrists? To my knowledge, an equivalent does not exist – and this was the first case of an optometrist convicted of manslaughter in the UK, which added to the complexity of the legal battle.
The death of a little boy is devastating, but, as medical professionals know, death is a risk with many procedures, no matter how small the risk may be. It’s frightening to think jail could be a consequence for those in the medical profession.
So, while I gradually lost the sensation in my right arm as I tried to reach an ovary of the 10th cow in a row, I mulled this over and realised I was extremely thankful for the safety net the VDS provides and would not take working with animals for granted.
After all, if I’d decided to be a doctor instead, I could be rummaging around in another human’s back end rather than a cow’s!
For further details of the Veterinary Defence Society and its services, visit www.thevds.co.uk
While a documented shortage of graduates does not exist as in previous years, significantly less fuss has been kicked up about the announcement of the new Aberystwyth-in-conjunction-with-RVC vet school, compared with the opening of the Surrey Vet School in 2014.
Surrey vet school: a bolt from the blue?
Is this because we knew Aberystwyth was in the pipeline so are not shocked by the announcement, or has the profession kept quiet because we do need more vets?
The problem is not a lack of graduates, but a lack of “experienced vets” and a shortage of vets staying in the profession after a few years of graduation.
This begs the question: why?
The simple answer is, as shown in last year’s “Voices from the future of the veterinary profession” survey conducted by Vet Futures, the profession, in its current state, does not meet expectations of those entering it.
Essentially, we feel undervalued, underpaid and overworked, and lack a sense of life outside veterinary.
Undervalued
The profession has an image problem, in many respects. It is becoming more commercialised, not just because of corporate takeover, but because clients expect more.
We seem to be moving away from the respected professionals who have dedicated their lives to helping animals and, as such, are praised for performing little short of a miracle in medical and surgical feats, and towards the providers of a service that, if not absolutely perfect and costs next to nothing, will only be complained about and bad-mouthed to other customers and competitors.
Sadly, the economic climate has caused much scaremongering, bringing vets to the absolute disposal of the pet owner for fear of losing clients and, therefore, not being able to balance the books.
I feel very strongly part of the reason our services are so undervalued is the NHS (See Jordan’s July 2014 blog post, “I Blame the NHS“).
The everyday person has no concept of how much medical procedures, diagnostics and therapeutics cost. I’ve done the research – prices for private medical care are found fairly easily, but NHS costs? Nigh impossible.
So how can we blame the public for not having a clue how much a radiograph costs? The public perception of veterinary in this country needs to change and I don’t think it will without transparency on human medical costs in conjunction with our veterinary ones.
Depending on the kind of practice you’re in, or going into, the relative feeling of being overworked will differ. I realise my points won’t apply to every practice in the country and this is sweeping general opinion on the UK profession as a whole. However, I struggle to see how many full-time vets’ hours fall within the legal limit.
The legislation is complex, with loopholes in the Working Time Regulations 1998 (WTR) possibly allowing certain practices to skirt round some of the “rules”, such as the designated 11-hour consecutive rest break in each 24-hour period and the minimum 24-hour rest break in each 7-day period.
On-call work is difficult to classify, but, in essence, the signing of a workforce agreement (probably as part of an employment contract) means the employee is agreeing to to provide out-of-hours cover that impinges on these designated rest breaks.
Some final year rotations at university I know are well beyond the limits set by the WTR (although the legality is sketchy since we’re not employed while we’re students).
“It’s not a nine-to-five job,” was a comment given with regard to rotation hours. That’s tough love: you’re going to be worked into the ground when you qualify, so you may as well get used to it now. But why? Why can’t veterinary be a nine-to-five job? It certainly is in other countries.
The profession is changing and I really hope this is the kind of change that comes about nationwide. With the increasing popularity of outsourced out-of-hours cover and shift work, why can’t a vet clock off at 5pm, enjoy some exercise, cooking, social activity, whatever and come back to work refreshed the next day ready to put in 110%?
Achieving work-life balance
We have numerous talks at uni about mental health awareness and the importance of work-life balance. But how is it possible to achieve a work-life balance if you’re working from 8am to 8pm and, even on the nights you’re not on call, you essentially only have time to grab something to eat and sleep.
It’s all very well lecturing us on being conscious of having a work-life balance, but what if it is beyond our control, as in so many cases?
I know for a fact, if the profession remains stuck in its ways, I will become just another statistic and leave the UK, if not the profession entirely, within a few years.
Don’t get me wrong, I have loved my rotations so far and the sense of fulfilment when I’m actually getting a handle on things is excellent, but I know I will resent my job if it does not allow for some enjoyment outside of veterinary.
But will it ever change? I think something has to give soon, or the profession will find itself in dire straits before long. How would change come about? If we wait for one practice or chain to provide a great work-life balance and rely on the trend to catch on, I think we’ll be waiting a lifetime. But what if the regulations changed?
I don’t really want to talk about Brexit (I’m sure a little piece of me dies inside every time that word is uttered), but the potential change to employment law (which has mainly been derived from the EU) could allow for changes specific to medical professions to protect us from “burnout”.
Overtime pay should exist in the veterinary world, as it does in any other “normal” job, allowing for those maniacs who want to work 24 hours a day to do so at their leisure (or those who need the extra cash), but not at the detriment to those who don’t wish to. Working out a vet’s base salary as an hourly basis is just depressing. And it shouldn’t be.
I keep hearing phrases such as “the profession is changing” and “it’s an exciting time”. I genuinely hope that is the case and we become the progressive generation we like to think we are, and drag the profession kicking and screaming with us into the modern world of enjoying life outside veterinary and moulding our careers around our lives – not the other way around.
The first of April brought with it the usual abundance of amusing online articles, tweets and blogs, only claiming credibility until midday – and the veterinary community was no exception.
Sun Life’s “courtesy pet” joke didn’t have vet student Jordan fooled for a minute.
Some April Fools were obvious hoaxes – such as Sun Life’s courtesy pet scheme, offering owners a replacement pet in place of their beloved while away at the vets – while others were a little harder to interpret, such as BEVA’s announcement of a privately funded equine vet degree – or maybe that’s because I was still half asleep and it was the first one I’d seen before realising the date.
Food for thought
Although it was cleared up at midday that BEVA president Mark Bowen was not due to become dean of the first UK equine-only vet school and that the nine traditional degrees would remain the only ones available, it did provoke some thought about whether it would be such a bad idea after all.
While plans for a traditional five-year omnicompetence approach, followed by a further three years of equine-only study, seemed a little far-fetched (fourth year has nearly finished me off – I certainly don’t think I’d hack eight years at vet school), many veterinary schools around the world use a condensed version of this model.
For example, Utrecht University in the Netherlands follows the format of a three-year bachelor’s degree for all species, followed by a three-year master’s degree aimed solely at one species/area (with the exception of 20 weeks). The University of Leige in Belgium compromises in that the fifth year is spent rotating through clinics for all species and half of the final (sixth) year is spent in one area in particular, with a choice of small animal, farm or equine.
Omnicompetence or specialisation?
The question of omnicompetence or specialisation is highly debatable and seems to go around in circles in the UK. Earlier career specialisation would be favoured by some who know, undoubtedly, they never want to see a cat, dog or rabbit again after vet school – likewise for those who shudder at the thought of an emergency caesarean and an angry farmer.
Early specialisation as an equine vet could mean you’ll never find yourself taking a blood sample from a lion. Image courtesy Shamwari Conservation Experience.
But what about those like me, who, after a considerable amount of vet school already under his or her belt and a variety of EMS placements (good and bad), when posed with the question “what sort of practice do you want to go into?” still can’t come up with anything more eloquent than: “Umm… mixed?”
The advantage of omnicompetence is that, in theory, graduates should leave vet school equipped with the knowledge and skills to address most cases in general practice in any field/species, deal with emergencies and know who or where to refer a patient to if the case is beyond his or her abilities.
Early specialisation could change this to the extent an equine or farm graduate asked “can you just look at my dog” may end up looking a bit silly.
Everything changes
Circumstances also change and accidents do happen. A vet may end up sustaining an injury while working with horses or livestock that could prevent him or her from doing so in the future, so a species-specific degree could force him or her to leave clinical practice altogether.
Similarly to the “new vet schools” debate, it is feared introducing species-specific degrees may reduce job availability for graduates who have taken the traditional educational pathway, making the equine sector, in particular, even more “elitist”. Ultimately, this could potentially drive the profession away from the concept of mixed practice altogether.
Master of one?
More like our medical counterparts, we could lose our “Jack of all trades” status and end up being highly specialised instead, which does, of course, have its advantages, but leaves those of us who want a bit of variety and flexibility in the dark.
For me, omnicompetence is definitely the right starting point for a veterinary degree, but I know others have very different opinions. I did, however, enjoy the brief social media debate before a communal sigh of relief.
My personal favourite April Fool this year, however, was the University of Glasgow’s announcement the university tower would be reopening as a public helter-skelter (see video below) – and I’m still disappointed it isn’t true.
I graduated from the University of Liverpool in 1988 and completed a PhD at the Rowett Research Institute in Aberdeen. I continued my research interests and pathology training at the University of Edinburgh’s Royal (Dick) School of Veterinary Studies, becoming a senior lecturer in veterinary pathology.
Pursuing an interest in human health research, I moved to the pharmaceutical industry in 2001 to work as a pathologist in the safety assessment of new medicines and managing a large technical team. While in industry, I maintained strong academic links, with particular interests in transferring technical skills between industry and academia, and encouraging vets to explore alternative career options.
In recognition of these interests, I was awarded an Medical Research Council (MRC) skills gap grant, moving back to the RVC in 2009 and on to my current role as pathologist at MRC Harwell in 2012. I am an RCVS recognised specialist in veterinary pathology and hold visiting chairs at RVC and the University of Surrey.
I have experience of serving on and chairing professional committees. I was part of the stakeholder group for the Vet Futures project and chair the Royal College of Pathologists’ specialty advisory committee for veterinary pathology.
Manifesto
The profession is undergoing modernisation and facing challenges that require new ideas to resolve. Key to development and innovation in any profession is the cultivation of diversity. Diversity includes the individuals within the profession, working practices and career pathways.
Increasing diversity means, firstly, looking at our student intake, working with schools and aiming to attract a better balance of applicants that reflect our society today and will make resilient vets.
A veterinary education provides a great starting point for a variety of potential career pathways. The Vet Futures project has shown the RCVS and the BVA recognise different career options are important for individuals and the professions. We need to build on this project to ensure graduates are prepared for different roles, practice and non-practice career paths are equally valued, career paths are signposted and people are supported throughout development in their chosen career.
Mental health is another pressing issue for our profession and ensuring a satisfying career choice, with manageable levels of stress, are essentials for good mental health. We need to develop career pathways within the profession that offer progression and working practices that accept a good work-life balance is essential, not just desirable. We need to find ways to support vets through their early years and as they develop greater responsibilities later in their career.
Diversity in the profession means having a range of resilient veterinary graduates able proactively to engage with a range of different career options and to adapt to changes in the external environment. Having worked in the university, research institutes and pharmaceutical industry as a lecturer, mentor, careers advisor, researcher and manager, I believe I have a range of skills and experience to contribute to the debate in these crucial areas.
I graduated from the University of Cambridge in 1980. After spending time as large animal house surgeon (intern) at the University of Liverpool and in general practice, I undertook further training in equine surgery and diagnostic imaging, at Liverpool, subsequently gaining diplomas in veterinary radiology and equine orthopaedics. I then studied for a PhD at the RVC, followed by a return to Liverpool as lecturer in equine orthopaedics.
I was recruited to the RVC in 1993 to rebuild the equine clinical services and promote equine research, subsequently becoming head of the farm animal and equine clinical department, the college’s vice-principal for teaching and deputy principal. In these roles, I was challenged to expand the college’s educational vision from a school for veterinary surgeons to one for the whole veterinary team, at first degree, postgraduate degree and CPD levels.
My broader contributions include being chairman of the Higher Education Academy Panel involved in the award of National Teaching Fellowships. I am currently senior vice-president of the European Board of Veterinary Specialisation and a past president of the European College of Veterinary Surgeons. I have chaired the RCVS education committee, its CertAVP sub-committee and legislation working group, and served on the disciplinary and standards committees.
Manifesto
My passion is the education of future veterinary surgeons and their well-being. I have felt privileged to serve as chairman of the education committee, contributing to development of the RCVS requirements for veterinary degree programmes and the CertAVP, and as chairman of the working group that created the new royal charter. However, our work is never complete.
If re-elected, I am keen to champion “the scholarship of primary care” and turn the focus on education aimed at developing expertise in primary care practice, the initial destination for most UK graduates. Our understanding of the fundamentals of clinical reasoning has progressed, but the distinction between hospital-based and primary care reasoning processes needs to be made, so all can be reassured excellence is not measured by the automatic use of a panel of diagnostic tests. It is important the “expert generalist” is fully recognised in the revised criteria for the RCVS Fellowship.
The new charter has provided powers to properly recognise the whole veterinary team. Vet Futures has highlighted the public need alongside our responsibility for animal welfare. Therefore, we must work together to ensure any delegation within the Veterinary Surgeons Act is matched to the skill set of those supporting veterinary services. This will be a task for RCVS council, whatever shape it may take.
I have considerable experience of committee chairmanship in the public and private sectors, as well as governance reviews in two other organisations. Therefore, I feel I have the skills and experience necessary to help move the profession forward in these challenging times.
As someone who has loved the different roles I have played during my veterinary career, I look forward to making my continued contributions to safeguarding the public, our profession and the animals to whom we have collectively dedicated our lives.
I started as a food animal intern at Iowa State University, having graduated from Glasgow (1987). After two children, my first full-time position was in a traditional mixed two-person practice in Ayrshire.
For the next 25 years, I helped develop the practice to become a 100 per cent small animal, forward-thinking, customer-focused, five-vet business. I became the new graduate mentor for the practice and developed a special interest in small animal dentistry.
In 2004 became an A1 Assessor for nurse training (now clinical coach), and later RCVS practical OSCE examiner for VN exams.
Outside of work, I have my family to keep me grounded, several dogs, cats and sheep. I enjoy running, swimming, cooking, reading and have started writing children’s books. My husband and I have also run a 1,500-acre beef/sheep hill farm.
In 2012, I set up our local “parkrun”, being event director until 2014, and enjoyed being a volunteer at the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow 2014.
I am a past president of Ayrshire Veterinary Association and represented Ayrshire on BVA council, also serving on its members’ services group committee. I am a BVA and BSAVA member and have voted in nearly every RCVS election since I graduated.
Manifesto
The veterinary profession continues to evolve as it has always done over its long history. I feel this is a really exciting time to be involved in the RCVS, with the Vet Futures project going into its next stage of actioning the recommendations made. Change is only frightening if it is unknown and with this we have some degree of control.
I am pleased with the new updated practice standards scheme, which feels more like a useful tool to general practice rather than a regulatory “award”. It is also more client friendly and I hope more practices make use of the system to promote themselves, thus improving minimum standards.
My experience with mentoring school, veterinary and nurse students (our future) over the years has allowed me to open their eyes to all the career options they have, as well as the reality about the hard work, stress, student debt and mental health issues they will encounter to some degree. But I also feel vets should be supported throughout their careers, not just as new graduates, and this should be looked at.
The RCVS council needs to be made up of 24 diverse veterinary surgeons as it strives to represent the broad range of services vets provide. I have the experience to help with this. It also needs a good age and gender mix.
We have a wonderful profession we are all passionate about, and I am as proud today of being part of it as I was when I graduated.
I humbly seek your vote. I am an enthusiastic person with a half-full approach to life and almost 30 years’ general practice experience. I now have the time to fully commit to this important role.
Since qualifying from Bristol in 1980, I have worked in a wide range of first-opinion practices (mixed, pure equine and pure small animal) and, for seven years, was involved in the tuition of final year veterinary students while working for the former Glasgow University Practice in Lanark. I achieved the CertVR from practice in 1991 and obtained an MLitt for archaeological research in 1989.
Since 1994, I have run a small animal practice in Carlisle with my wife Kirsty, which has grown to employ five veterinary surgeons and four RVNs, and accepts student VNs from three different colleges. The practice achieved the Investors in People Award on three occasions. I take primary responsibility for cardiology, imaging and orthopaedic work.
Beyond work, my interests include skiing, cycling and DIY, keeping my English setter fully exercised and watching cricket.
Before offering myself for election to the RCVS, I spent two years on SPVS Council; I was elected to RCVS Council for the first time in 2012.
Manifesto
I have been fortunate to be a member of the standards committee throughout my first term on council. Currently its vice-chairman, I have sought to ensure demands made of practitioners are both reasonable and deliverable.
I was part of the post-Chikosi 24/7 review, which, we hope, has more clearly defined the responsibilities of both owners and veterinary surgeons. Another review may prove unavoidable as consumer choice leads to the fragmentation of veterinary service provision, with resultant confusion as to who exactly carries responsibility for the emergency care of those animals “registered” with more than one supplier.
A recent survey, part of the Vet Futures initiative, has revealed worrying levels of disillusionment among younger members of the profession. Further analysis will, I hope, help us to understand the reasons for this. While dedicated emergency services have improved work-life balance for many, as 10-hour days become common have we simply changed the nature of work-related stress? I find it sad fewer graduates now express an interest in running their own practice; while it is undoubtedly challenging to run your own business, you can at least take control of your professional life. If this trend continues then the number of genuinely independent practices will inexorably decline.
Next year should see the conclusion of the current review of RCVS governance, a review likely to lead to a significant shrinkage in the size of council. Elected members will remain in the majority, but their numbers will be reduced. It will be important council retains members with relevant and recent experience of first-opinion practice. In this regard, I believe I can continue to make a worthwhile contribution and would ask for your support in this election.
