Tag: mental health

  • Thank you to ‘incredible’ nurses during VN Awareness Month

    Thank you to ‘incredible’ nurses during VN Awareness Month

    VNs
    Veterinary nurses – the doting advocates and voices for the pets in our practices and hospitals.

    As a vet in a busy emergency hospital, I have the utmost appreciation for our team’s incredible hard work and the compassion they show – not just for our patients, but towards each other.

    Special thanks, this month, has to go to the incredible veterinary nurses of this world. The compassionate way they carry themselves in the clinic and all the hard work they do always leaves me feeling inspired.

    Thank you

    caring
    “Optimistic, thorough and empathetic.”

    Nurses are optimistic, thorough and empathetic – but, most of all, they are the doting advocates and voices for the pets in our hospital. The love, care and kindness they display every shift is incredibly inspiring and, as vets, we really couldn’t do our job without them.

    So, rather than a tip this week, I would like to say thank you to veterinary nurses – thank you for supporting us, supporting owners and, most of all, supporting the pets in our care.

    In the spirit of Veterinary Nursing Awareness Month, I decided to ask the nurses from where I work – Animal Emergency Service – about their experiences; what they think about being a veterinary nurse and what keeps them coming back day after day.

    VN views

    Together, we will discover what they find most challenging, how they overcome these obstacles and what tips they have for nurses around the world to make the most of their nursing careers.

    Over the next few posts throughout May, I will compile a collection of useful tips our nurses find important in maintaining good mental health, a gold standard of veterinary nursing and positive client communications. I will discuss useful tips on how best to overcome the physical and emotional challenges seen in so many clinics worldwide.

    Watch this space…

  • Prophylactic mental health

    Prophylactic mental health

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

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

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

    Getting physical

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

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

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

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

    Heed the warning signs

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

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

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

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

    Preventive approach

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

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

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

  • When 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”?

  • Online learning vs the university experience

    Online learning vs the university experience

    With education secretary Gavin Williamson recently coming forward to suggest that universities should reduce their fees if they choose not to return to face-to-face teaching, the question is being asked once again if online teaching can really hold its own against the real thing?

    Loneliness

    One of the main trials of the vet course has always been its difficulty. It’s hard, both academically and at times emotionally (and, when you’re called upon to tip a sheep, sometimes physically), there’s no getting away from that.

    Online learning doesn’t reduce the course’s difficulty, but it does have the potential to exacerbate it, especially for those with attention deficit disorders who benefit from a more tangible learning environment.

    The online platform is also unable to replicate that feeling of camaraderie you get from the live experience. If you can see your coursemates struggling on a particular topic you are also struggling with, then at least you’re reminded that you’re all in the same boat; but when you’re struggling to comprehend a lecture in your room by yourself – day in, day out – it can be easy to feel that maybe you’re the only one having trouble, and that you’re falling behind the rest of the herd.

    The little things

    All vet students and new grads will still remember the horrors of 9am lectures. Let’s be honest, nobody actively looked forward to them – especially, I’m sure, my fellow Bristol students, for whom struggling your way up one of the many formidable hills in gale force winds and torrential rain was a rite of passage.

    Saying that, you always end up missing what you don’t have, and while a classroom of shivering 20-somethings with 150 coats attempting to dry on the one single lecture hall radiator may not sound like the epitome of a good time, it’s just one of the little things that builds a person’s university experience.

    There will be highs and lows, good days and bad days that all make up the tapestry of academic life. While some may prefer to listen to recorded lectures in bed, I think being given the choice is inherently necessary.

    Isolation

    There are also an often-unheard body of students, for whom those lectures represented the only opportunity to interact with people and have space to learn. Sadly, not everyone at university has a living situation that supports their learning, whether it’s a disruptive home life, unreliable Wi-Fi, or any other number of things.

    I don’t think this is something that universities fully take into account, and I feel especially sorry for international students paying incredibly high fees while entirely unable to explore their new surroundings or get the experience they were advertised. For those who study far from their homes and families, online learning has the potential to be incredibly isolating. I know my own mental health has certainly suffered as a result, and I’m sure I’m not alone.

    Screens, screens, screens

    When I was little, my mother used to tell me that if I stared at a screen for too long my eyes would turn square, and although I’ve since dismissed it as a method to get me to tidy my room instead of watching Power Rangers, I now fear it may be true…

    I know that may sound a little “six of one, half a dozen of the other” seeing that in-person lectures use projectors and laptops as well, but I truly believe online learning massively ramps up your screen time. Even in 3-hour long lecture blocks, we would still be given short breaks between lecturers, you’d turn to talk to your friends and maybe focus more on the lecturer than the words on the slides.

    When your only way to learn is via your laptop, and your only way to recharge after those lectures is also your laptop (Netflix, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and so on), you could easily pull a nine-hour shift sharing predominantly at a screen. Excessive screentime has been linked to postural-injuries, back and neck pain, negative impacts on sleep and emotional states, eye strain and migraines.

    Imperfect fit

    Obviously, everyone’s experience of the past two years has been unique and, as such, I’ve found that my fellow students tend to have mixed opinions of online teaching platforms or “blended learning” (when the majority of your work is done online, but augmented with a smattering of in-person teaching, perhaps once a month).

    Some of my cohort really enjoy having all of our lectures at the touch of a button, while others have struggled with the lack of contact with their peers and mustering daily motivation.

    Personally, I can see both sides of the coin, but I think it needs to be accepted that while there are merits to both the new and old system, the two are simply not comparable – and like every teaching system, neither are a perfect fit for every student.

  • 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.

  • Advice for first year vets beginning university in a pandemic

    Advice for first year vets beginning university in a pandemic

    With first year on the horizon in the midst of a world that is far from the normal we knew, some newbie vets are bound to be feeling nervous at the prospect of a fresher’s year like no other.

    Having spoken to a number of students due to begin their vet journeys later this month, I thought I would address some of their specific concerns, and offer advice and comfort to anyone out there who might need it.

    Fear #1: loneliness

    I think every first year is worried about making friends and fitting in, so, when socialising is legally restricted, it’s only natural for those worries to intensify.

    For any students who had their heart set on midnight raves seven days a week, I’m not sure I can offer much in the way of a solution. However, I would like to say that I managed to make several good friends before even moving into halls.

    Social media made it possible to connect with people from my course and accommodation far in advance of the start of term – and some of those early connections went on to form long-lasting friendships after meeting in person.

    Social media made it possible for Eleanor Goad to connect with people from her course and accommodation in advance of the start of term. Photo by bongkarn thanyakij from Pexels.
    Social media allowed Eleanor to connect with people from her course before it began. Photo by bongkarn thanyakij from Pexels

    Get connected

    If you’ve yet to find an online group like that at your university then I encourage you to have another look. Whether you want to connect with course mates, room-mates or people who enjoy the same activities as you, I promise, your people are out there waiting for you to find them.

    If you’re not the most socially inclined person, it can be easy to feel isolated at the best of times, so I implore you to take advantage of every online resource your university has to offer.

    Community

    First years I’ve spoken to have worried about the lack of group learning and practicals because they already know the value of teamwork in the veterinary industry. Studying with friends is an incredible tool, and a strong sense of community is one of the defining features of every vet school.

    Although your social bubble will of course be no substitute for a lecture hall of 150 people, it is no lie that most students make their best friends on the first day with the person sitting next to them.

    Fear #2: mental health

    The veterinary course can be intense and highly demanding – both mentally and emotionally. It’s why this course and profession have higher incidences of depression, anxiety and suicide than almost any others.

    The general uncertainty surrounding local lockdowns can make visits home to family and friends to recuperate and unwind challenging or impossible – especially to foreign students who may already feel isolated.

    It has never been more important for the veterinary community to rally around and support one another. We are all in the same boat – from first years, to lecturers, to vets out in the field. All of us are a little uncertain, but we are strongest when we work together.

    Fear #3: access to learning resources

    I’ve spent many an hour studying cadavers of all sizes at length in the lead-up to an exam, or simply when I just couldn’t wrap my head around something. I know from first-hand experience that sometimes looking at something on a computer screen just isn’t the same, and when it comes to the vet course, there’s no better way to learn than hands-on, up close and personal.

    I must have had tens of hours’ worth of lectures about the bovine reproductive tract and how to perform a rectal exam, but I think I learned more in 15 minutes with my hand inside a rectum than I did in all of those lectures combined.

    rectum
    Eleanor claims she learned more in 15 minutes with her hand inside a rectum than she did in all her bovine reproductive tract lectures combined… Image © A / Adobe Stock

    No substitute

    There truly is no substitute for live instruction, so it is incredibly important for all vet students to make the most of all the face-to-face content their university can provide.

    Taking the time to study the content beforehand can be extremely helpful for this. Not only do you (hopefully) know enough to understand what you are looking at (a leg versus an arm, for example), but you’re also more aware of what you really don’t understand and can perhaps prepare some questions in advance.

    Just ask

    Take advantage of any personnel on hand when you have them – don’t be too anxious to ask questions or raise your hand because you’ll be kicking yourself when you’re trying to discover those answers on Google and it tries giving you recipe ideas when you look up the parts of a chicken wing.

    Of course, I don’t have all the answers. If you are worried, unsure or have any questions about how the vet course is evolving then, regardless of the year you are in, email or call into your vet school to help put your mind at rest.

  • 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.

  • Tips for studying in self isolation

    Tips for studying in self isolation

    I feel the phrase “the show must go on” is going to apply heavily to the student community over the coming months – vet students included.

    Universities across the country are moving their teaching and examinations to an online platform, which means that for a lot of young academics, come rain or shine (or, it seems, the apocalypse), we will be working until the bitter end.

    In other words, the pubs may be shut, but the textbooks are staying open.

    Bitter pill

    While it may seem cruel that the rest of life has to grind to a halt while studying and exams carry on (as someone who will shortly be spending her 21st birthday in lockdown, let me just say I know – trust me, I know), it’s especially important for professional courses to carry on as best they can.

    As medical students we don’t only learn to pass our exams, but to better equip ourselves for a workplace where our decisions can be the difference between life and death.

    I strongly commend the staff who’ve had to work tirelessly behind the scenes to reorchestrate an entire term of teaching in a matter of weeks to make sure our learning doesn’t have to suffer.

    Analogue girl in a digital world

    Not only are the staff having to adapt, but so are the students. As an analogue girl myself I really do fail my generation’s reputation for being “good at technology”, so I can tell you my own experience of moving to an entirely online learning platform has been… shall we say, interesting?

    And while it is nice to have a timetable (and, therefore, a reason to remember what day it is, let alone the date), I thought I would share a few pearls of wisdom for making it through one of the weirdest periods of study any of us is probably ever going to experience – and that’s saying something as we stick our hands in some seriously weird places.

    No. 1: Maintain boundaries between work and home

    You know how some animals, like cats, have a special place for everything? A place to eat, sleep, wash, defecate etc, while naturally roaming animals such as the horse do not have this talent and will happily poo in their freshly made stall as the heart-broken yard worker looks on in anguish?

    Well, for as long as this lockdown lark continues, do NOT be like the horse.

    Designating different areas in which to work and unwind will not only give you a feeling of routine, but will also help you work hard and switch off when you need to. Just because you can literally wake up, roll over, do a day’s work and then go back to sleep, does not mean you should.

    No. 2: Play to your strengths

    One of the few silver linings to come out of the change in learning environments is that it puts you, the student, well and truly in the driver’s seat.

    Studying has now become a lot more independent – and while this does mean you have to work to motivate yourself a little harder, it also gives you the power to work in the way that’s best for you.

    Everyone learns differently, whether it’s visualisation, reading through articles or breaking up the work into lots of manageable chunks. Find which method works for you and own it.

    online
    Virtual study groups can be a great way to collaborate with your peers. Image © New Africa / Adobe Stock

    No. 3: Use every resource at your disposal

    Just because you’re learning from home now doesn’t mean the whole concept of “uni” has disappeared.

    You can no longer talk to your lecturers in person, but, let’s be honest, that was quite intimidating anyway. If you have a question, drop your tutors an email; if you don’t understand the new system and need some help, email or phone up your admin team. They may take a little longer to reply than usual, but you are not alone.

    With this in mind, if you’re a person who works best in groups, who said FaceTime had to be all fun and games? Virtual study groups can be a great reason to put on actual clothes, brush your hair and work that little bit harder on your assignments.

    No. 4: It’s okay not to be okay

    Now, this is the most important one, so I’ll say it again for those at the back: It. Is. Okay. Not To. Be. Okay.

    Never in the history of civilised society have we experienced anything exactly like this before. It is confusing, lonely and scary at times, and having to study and revise on top of it all can seem like an impossible task.

    If you are struggling, please talk to someone; if you know someone who you think might struggle right now, please reach out to them. The veterinary community has a reputation for appalling mental health, and it is more important than ever before to look out for one another.

    If you’re having a low day, it’s okay to take it slow to focus on yourself and start feeling okay again. Draw something, write something, buy yourself that dress you’ve been ogling for the past three months.

    Or, if you just feel like curling up on the sofa and watching the entire Lord of The Rings trilogy (the extended editions), back to back, with a litre of ice cream and your favourite onesie… that’s okay, too.

  • Look after each other – including the four-legged ones

    Look after each other – including the four-legged ones

    As much as we’re having to adapt our lives in so many ways during these strange and uncertain times, I think a lot of us take for granted that our pets will always be so reassuringly consistent.

    This is mainly because, while our own lives are currently being turned upside down and inside out, our pets haven’t a clue what’s going on.

    During this lockdown, most dogs are probably thrilled to have their owners at home to play with them and give them fuss almost 24/7, but the abruptly shortened walks and lack of pet play dates, on the other hand – maybe not so much.

    In their shoes

    I think a large part of getting through times like these is not to focus on what you don’t have, but to appreciate what you do. As my university moves to an online platform, I feel so lucky to have a supporting family to come home to, a warm house and good food. Thanks to the modern wonder that is social media, I can at least feel updated and informed when everything is so uncertain and confusing.

    By comparison, my cat, for example, is at a slight disadvantage. While she also benefits from home comforts, when it comes to being in the know, she, like the rest of our pets, is in the dark.

    To be honest, I quite envy her, and certainly the daily routines of a lot of domestic animals hasn’t changed at all. For more sociable pets like dogs, however, this sudden drawing back from the outside world will obviously be incredibly confusing, as well as frustrating, because they’ve no idea why everything has seemingly changed overnight.

    Monkey see monkey do

    Despite popular belief for so many years, animals can experience a large array of emotions – from elation and excitement to extreme anxiety – and this is partly because of their amazing ability to pick up what we, their owners, are unwittingly putting down.

    If you’ve seen a change in your pets’ behaviour over the past few weeks, do a quick self-inventory of your own. If you spend your days anxious, irritable or melancholy, your pets can pick up on this and act in kind, even if you don’t notice it yourself. They can see it in your body language, tone of voice, even in your level of eye contact.

    Of course, all emotions are heightened now – and justifiably so – but if you notice your pet mirroring your mood swings, it might be a good sign you need to be kinder to yourself, for the both of you.

    kitty
    Image by Kadres from Pixabay

    Help is always there

    Depending on where you are in the country, your local vets might be closed, running shorter hours or a very long journey away.

    In cases of the latter, this might make you worry if your need to take an animal to an appointment is justified, or if you’re in a densely populated area or are/live with an “at-risk” individual, you simply may not be comfortable leaving home to make this journey at all.

    No matter your current circumstance, I think it important to confirm that veterinary help, should you need it, is still readily available to you – just perhaps not in the form you’re used to.

    Changes

    A lot of vets are reducing their opening hours, not just to limit person-to-person interactions, but to make more time available for phone or email consultations.

    As of right now, emergency cases are still very much a legitimate reason to travel, and if you are unsure if your pet’s medical need constitutes an emergency, all it takes is a quiet phone call to your local vet for advice.

    Incredibly innovative changes have been made to the way practices operate in a staggeringly short space of time to help keep everyone safe so that the health of your pets doesn’t suffer, while brave and compassionate veterinary professionals are still going into work every day to ensure your pets are continued to be cared for.

    Basically, what I’m saying is: if in doubt, just call – there will always be someone on the other end of the line, willing and wanting to help.

    Give and take

    It’s of no doubt that our pets have a greatly positive impact on our mental health. Without even knowing it, they are helping us through some potentially isolating and scary times.

    With this in mind, I feel it only fair to return that kindness and take care of them in every way we can.

    If we all look out for each other, those with two legs and four, we will all get through this and out the other side.

  • What about vets on the front line?

    What about vets on the front line?

    Our profession is generally pretty good at pulling together in the face of adversity.

    I’ve always loved the community feel of being able to go to CPD events, and usually know someone, or have connections with someone, who is there.

    I love being able to send a message to my uni friends at any time of day or night – be that for clinical advice, moral support or reassurance on something entirely non-vet related – and get a reply. Failing that, you can often seek an answer or support from one of the vet Facebook groups on numerous topics.

    In light of COVID-19, the veterinary world has rallied together… to a point.

    One for all, and all for…

    Those who have been furloughed are finding a wealth of free online CPD available to fill their time and keep connected clinically. Not only are there webinars, but there’s a plethora of online workouts or discussion groups to actively engage in.

    That all sounds lovely, but what about those of us who are still working? What support is there for the minimal staff left in clinics who (despite all these figures on turnover being down) are battling ridiculous increases in workload?

    Less is… less

    There’s less staff in most clinics, to varying degrees, but I have heard horror stories about severely restricted numbers and even certain groups furloughing everyone but vets.

    Whatever business decision may lie behind that, these clinics must be in chaos. Vets, who are already stretched trying to do their “normal” jobs (it is currently far from normal), are also running their own bloods, cleaning, answering phones, chasing and taking payments, sorting insurance claims and ordering stock, among other things.

    These tasks may be alien to some of us, and trying to navigate previously undiscovered depths of the practice management system at the end of an exhausting shift adds unnecessary stress.

    We love our nurses and receptionists as it is, but those who are currently deprived of them will be unearthing a a gargantuan respect for them in the future.

    Crisis consulting

    Consulting in this environment makes you realise how much multitasking we would ordinarily do. Currently, my consults look like this:

    • Owner arrives and calls reception.
    • I try to work out which car he or she is in, then take a brief history from 2m away.
    • Take the animal into the practice.
    • Find a nurse to assist with the handling.
    • Examine the animal.
    • Telephone the owner from the practice or go back outside to discuss with him or her from a safe distance, before returning to the animal to give treatment.
    • Give the animal back to the owner.
    • Dispense medication, then ask the owner to call reception again to pay…

    This takes a lot longer than normal consults, so working to offer the same number of appointment slots is both relentless and draining.

    Lies and abuse

    Everyone is used to certain number of disgruntled clients, but the barrage of abuse those on reception are receiving from clients is unprecedented.

    It would seem many members of the public are not getting the “stay at home” message and are furious when we explain a nail clip is not an emergency. As a result, we are now seeing clients exaggerating, or just plain lying, in order to be seen.

    A choice example last week was a dog booked for a potential euthanasia, but turned out to be a weight clinic. We then had to stifle our disbelief and anger at these time wasters before moving on to the next client, who has desperately tried to hold off from having to make the difficult decision to say goodbye to their dearest pet under these circumstances – and yet we can only offer words of comfort from a distance and inject from the end of a drip line, which really doesn’t seem enough.

    Unfortunately, the COVID clearout seems to be worse than the annual Christmas clearout, and these scenarios are not isolated, but heartbreakingly frequent.

    Lost in translation

    And what support do we get? We get the RCVS and BVA back-pedalling on their original statement, to then shirk responsibility and leave it “up to individual practices” to interpret the “guidance” how they wish.

    After the clarity of the original stance on vaccinations, this ambiguous follow up was very disappointing. The truth is many vets feel that corporates and business owners will take this as a green light to return to business as usual, while firmly claiming that it is most definitely not business as usual.

    I can agree with that – the way we are working is certainly not the usual, but if we are now to do vaccines and neutering again, what exactly are we missing? Stable med checks, done via telephone rather than in person?

    Taking the high or low road?

    We get colleagues taking the moral high ground, questioning our commitment to the oath we took on graduation to put animal heath and welfare above all else. Just because I don’t think vaccinations are currently a priority, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about my patients anymore – human health has to come first.

    We get corporates issuing yet more paperwork to encourage us to document risk assessments – while seemingly offsetting the responsibility to us – so that if their business gets sued for denying to provide care or (God forbid) agreeing to see an animal that results in transmission of COVID-19 between owner/vet, it was the vet or receptionist who took the phone call’s fault for making that decision.

    Aside from this, the phones are ringing off the hook and vets are running around like blue-arsed flies, so practically, where are we going to find the time to fill in these bloody forms?

    Horseplay

    Before any of that, the request to risk assess mild ailments is fundamentally flawed when we are being told to go out and do horse boosters.

    While equine vaccinations and other routine work that is now being pushed again, because equine turnover is the most severely affected of all veterinary sectors, we are told to maintain safe social distancing at all times.

    With equine vets reported to be one of the most dangerous occupations, is it sensible to expect us to administer vaccines with no one holding the horse? In some, if not most, cases, that will probably be okay. But with owners consistently lying to us to be given an “emergency” appointment, how long before an owner lies about his or her severely needle/vet-shy horse and one of us pays the price?

    Heading for burnout

    I don’t pretend to understand the intricacies of business management, but you cannot flog a dead horse. Many vets who have barely had time to inhale lunch are working different and longer shifts just to cope with the “emergencies” – and yet you’re asking us to do more?

    It’s incredulous that the veterinary sector seems to think itself superior to all the other thousands of businesses up and down the country that are struggling or facing collapse. By continuing to pile the pressure on to staff with increasing risk of burnout, you might preserve some income, but you’ll be lucky to have any vets left by the end of this.

    Is anybody listening?

    We are angry that the higher-ups in the profession are treating us this way. We feel guilty for being jealous of, or feeling antipathy towards, our furloughed colleagues. We are emotionally drained. We feel guilty because this can only be a fraction of how front-line NHS staff must be feeling – and above all, we are exhausted.

    In a profession with an already poor record for mental health and suicide, we are now even more stretched, under even more pressure from all angles – and no one seems to be listening.