With the general election fast approaching, there’s been a big push to encourage 18 to 25-year-olds to vote, since a huge proportion of us didn’t last time.
I’m not well versed in the intricacies of politics, but general consensus among young people after the last election was disappointment with regards to the tripling of university tuition fees.
This time round, the topic seems to have been swept under the carpet a bit, with Labour promising to reduce them again (but not quite as low as they used to be) and UKIP promising to abolish them for degrees in certain fields. But little has been mentioned on the matter by the other parties.
What does it matter to us anyway? We’re already at uni, with our fees fixed from our enrolment date. So perhaps it doesn’t, and perhaps the young voters, already in further education, should prioritise other issues when musing over the various policies.
But students, often skint (especially at this time of year, with eight days until Student Finance comes in – not that I’m counting), like to know they’re getting their money’s worth. Instead of standing in a supermarket, deliberating whether its okay to spend an extra quid on branded cereal, maybe we should think about what we’re paying for in the long term.
Whether we’re paying nothing (the Scottish), £3,000 (friends in my school year were the final students to have these fees), £9,000 (most undergraduates now) or even more as postgraduates, is it worth it?
You could discuss the philosophy of investing in your future, and whether spending so much on education will be worth it for a fulfilling career, higher wages or being able to achieve the dream of being a vet, but what about the face value? Per year, term or even day, what do we get for our money? A lot. That’s what.
Vet students get 9am to 5pm, five-days-a-week contact time with lecturers who are leaders in their respective fields
Some of us may be paying a staggering total of £45,000 for tuition alone, but what is that paying for? Almost 9am to 5pm, five days a week, contact time – and not just with anyone. Many of our lecturers are leaders in their respective fields; extremely experienced clinicians with more letters after their names than the alphabet itself. Plus practicals – labs, dissections, animal handling/examination and clinical skills sessions.
Without putting a price on practical sessions, it already sounds like we’re getting a fair bit for our cash, especially when you compare our course to a non-science degree, such as English or history. These often comprise just a few hours’ teaching a week, and yet can cost the same as the veterinary degree.
Involvement in the organisation of Association of Veterinary Students Congress earlier this year opened my eyes to the cost of basic equipment for practical sessions, such as needles and syringes.
One particularly costly element was paying for the actor for a communication skills section of one of the practicals. The veterinary school employs these actors for teaching purposes because they contribute to a more realistic scenario than just practising communication with our classmates.
As such, when we had a revision practical, with boxes of syringes, catheters, blood tubes, fluid therapy giving sets and fluid bags left out for us to practise as much as we needed, I couldn’t help but feel that the veterinary degree is one of the best value for money.
Everyone had heard rumours third year at veterinary school was the worst. On coming back to university after a long summer of extra-mural studies and relaxation, we were nervous. Two weeks in, things didn’t seem too bad and we were sceptical.
We were indifferently meandering through the bewildering world of Latin names and impossible-to-spell drugs, resigned to a fate of an increased workload and new subjects, but not overwhelmed just yet. It happened to different people at different times, but, seemingly out of nowhere, the third-year wall hit. And it hit hard.
Whether it was the hours of straining to make sense of indiscernible pinky-purple mess under the microscope, or trying to differentiate one parasite from the next by the subtlest of morphological changes, or even just trying to fathom the hideous amount of Latin that had forced itself into our lives, veterinary school suddenly got the better of most of us.
While drowning under the sheer amount of information to take in, the realisation we’re not even halfway there really seemed to set in this term, making it almost impossible for us to keep our heads above water.
A week of very little sleep, long hours studying and eight exams will mark the halfway point for my year group. The most disturbing part of this revelation is the feeling we’ve been at vet school for a long time (can anyone even remember freshers’ week?), and yet we still have that same length of time left to go.
Several of us have been questioning our aspirations of late – why did I want to be a vet? Why am I putting myself through this? Is it worth it? Is this as hard as it gets? These are just some of the whispers heard around vet school.
It’s often comforting in itself your classmates are feeling as fed up as you are, but you also need to find a way to combat your doubts and climb the wall, or punch right through it. Veterinary students are particularly susceptible to stress and mental health issues – we’ve all heard the statistics, which is why it’s vital to know how and where to access support should you need it.
The student-run welfare system at Glasgow’s veterinary school has boomed this year, with multiple welfare talks and the start up of many new clubs and societies aimed at stress relief, including relaxing yoga classes to help you reboot or a high-energy Muay Thai sessions to help you release all that pent-up stress. Following in the footsteps of Liverpool, Glasgow vet school is also currently developing a peer-support network to provide an ear for those students who need someone to turn to in times of need.
Of course, your own interests can distract you from the stress of vet school, and while it’s tempting to entirely prioritise your studies, it’s really important to ensure they don’t consume your entire life. For me personally, writing, editing and riding keep me afloat.
One lesson I’ve learned this term is you also need to keep on top of your own health. You may have a persisting issue that you keep putting off because you haven’t got time to see a doctor and have too much work to do. But it doesn’t pay off in the end. I allowed back muscle pain to get to the point of me being barely able to walk before shaking some sense into myself and seeing a physio. After a couple of sessions, I felt a million times better and regretted putting it off for so long. Just remember you need to look after your body to keep your mind on top form.
On the upside, by the time our “halfway ball” comes around in February, we’ll be over the hump, and just a little bit closer to graduation. Or in other words – a little bit closer to fulfilling our ambitions or dreams that many of us have had from a very young age. We just need to find a way to hold on to the light at the end of the tunnel, so we don’t run out of steam.
When you apply to vet school, there are certain boxes you have to tick: achieve the right A-Levels (or Advanced Highers), complete a number of weeks of work experience, and pass that dreaded interview.
What nobody tells you, however, is that being a vet student requires a number of other skills that seemingly have nothing to do with the veterinary profession.
Star Baker
After completing a week of EMS at a vet practice, there is the unspoken expectation that you should produce some form of teeth-rotting goodness as a thank you. Your vets would probably appreciate a box of Celebrations, but they’re going to be far more impressed if you turn out to be harbouring secret Mary Berry-esque talents.
Not only that, many clubs and societies use baked goodies to lure in new members, and some vet schools even host an anatomy themed bake off, for which the more exceptional entries often leave us questioning whether their creators are in the right profession.
Salesperson Extraordinaire
Fundraising is a common theme at vet school, whether it’s for a charity event, to reduce the ticket price of halfway ball or for a veterinary society to hold a practical session.
Getting fellow students to part with their hard-earned cash can be more difficult than you’d expect, but persuasion is a great skill to develop, especially when you may find yourself moving on to trying to entice large pharmaceutical companies to sponsor a much bigger event.
Perseverance (or rather bugging people on Facebook and through emails) can really pay off.
Catwalk Designer
Jordan (far left) and the other Glasgow Gnomes prepare for the AVS sports weekend.
Vet students are notorious for their love of fancy dress. Perhaps the results aren’t quite what you’d expect to see on the cover of Vogue, but it is astonishing what we can whip up out of nothing in five minutes flat (or perhaps three hours that may have been better dedicated to studying).
Movie characters, gnomes, circus, thrift shop, “anything but clothes”… There hasn’t been a theme that has baffled us yet.
Rally Driver
We may not all be the next Sébastien Loeb or Lewis Hamilton, but driving is a pretty important skill. Granted, not every vet student holds a licence, but those that do find it a lot easier to get to the numerous EMS placements we have to fulfil during our time at vet school.
Many of us have other attributes from being sporty or musical, to being a fluent multi-linguist or technology whizz. These may stem from trying to boost our personal statements prior to applying for vet school or could just be personality traits.
However, if you don’t enter vet school as a “well-rounded” person, you’ll certainly come out as one.
A couple of articles have been brought to my attention this week regarding the public perception of vets versus the reality.
When somebody finds out that you want to be a vet or are studying veterinary medicine, there are a few arduous questions that usually follow:
“Is it seven years at university for that?”
“It’s hard to get into isn’t it?”
And, of course:
“Well, vets earn loads of money don’t they?”
Unfortunately, only one of those three assumptions is true. However, those detached from the veterinary world still uphold the perception that vets are rich and set high prices to rip off the unsuspecting public. What these people don’t understand is that a new veterinary graduate can expect to start on a salary of around £20k while working all living hours of the day, plus being on call.
While each individual job varies, the reality is that we can expect to earn very little considering the length of intense training required and the high levels of stress and responsibility that come with the job.
With experience and promotion to more superior roles – such as becoming a partner in a practice – the salary will increase, but often to less than half the average wage of a GP doctor. In general, vets accept this and are highly dedicated to the health of the animal they work with. If they were after a high salary, they’d be better off in a different career field entirely.
But the public can’t be entirely blamed for their own ignorance – I think a lot of the problem lies with the National Health Service…
“There is no NHS for pets, and I think many people would do well to remember this.”
We are blessed with a “free” health service in the UK, but this means those of us outwith the field of human medicine have very little understanding of how much treatments, operations or drugs cost.
Perhaps if people knew how much these things would cost if they had to fund them privately, they’d have a greater appreciation of both the NHS itself and the veterinary care they pay for for their animals. After all, there is no NHS for pets, and I think many people would do well to remember this.
My American friends tell me that clients in the US do seem to have a more grounded understanding of the cost of healthcare and are able to apply this to veterinary care without quite so much complaining.
It’s also worth noting that the money people spend on their animals’ treatments does not go directly into the pocket of the surgeon, but contributes to the cost of anything required for the procedure, including medication, electricity, needles and syringes, catheters, x-ray plates, bedding, food, anaesthetic, licensing… this list goes on – and somewhere at the bottom of that list sit the wages of the hardworking and dedicated vet, who often only receives a grumbling about the expense in “thanks”.
On a recent EMS placement at a small animal veterinary surgery, I witnessed a lot of this grumbling, and sometimes even full blown arguments about cost. Luckily it’s the few clients that are truly grateful and would do anything for their animals that make it all worth it.
I find it highly offensive and disrespectful when I hear remarks that vets are “only in it for the money” because, if that were true, then we are not as intelligent as our education might suggest.
Missing her cats, Jordan ponders the feasibility of owning a pet while at university.
I’ve always had cats at home, and they often played the role of revision buddy/lap warmer. That was one of the things I missed most when I first went to university.
Pets aren’t allowed in student halls, but now that I live in a flat with other vet students, pet ownership becomes a possibility (landlord permitting).
As a student, I meticulously budget in order to ensure I eat well, am able to enjoy myself and get some travelling in without blowing all of my cash the first week that student loan comes in. But even with this amount of planning, could I find some spare to pay to feed a cat as well as myself? Probably. Could I find the money if something went wrong, if said cat needed lifetime insulin or thyroxine treatment or broke a limb in a road traffic accident? Probably not.
Pet insurance would extinguish the worry surrounding the “what ifs”, and I do know other students with pets that are insured. Even then, premiums that cover long-term conditions come at a fair price, and I wouldn’t want to find myself in a financial position forcing me to cancel insurance and risk my pet requiring costly treatment.
Money is not the only commitment that you make to a pet though. The other major consideration is time – although this is more of a concern with dogs, which require a greater time commitment than cats.
I often feel that owning a dog would be excellent stress relief, but as idillic as dog walking seems, could I commit several hours a day, every day, including around exam time?
Even if I could commit the time while I’m around, I know that I don’t stay permanently in one place. For the majority of the time I’m in Glasgow, but during the holidays I’m at home (Leicestershire), on EMS or travelling. Who would look after the pet then? Since I live with vets, they have similarly busy lifestyles and it would be unfair to expect them to pet-sit while I’m away.
And what would happen when I graduate? I don’t know where I’ll be living, where my first job might take me, or whether it will be feasible to take a pet along for the ride.
An alternative to pet owning is fostering. The Glasgow branch of Cats Protection has recently advertised their fostering service to vet students at Glasgow. The fostering scheme encourages taking on a cat, with bedding, litter and food provided. They will provide all veterinary care and will even take back the cats if you go on holiday.
I think fostering is a great way of caring for cats without a lot of the concerns outlined above, and perhaps the only option I’d consider while at university with regards to pets. As much as I’d love to own a pet in Glasgow, I think it would be unfair on the animal if I could not offer the money and time to give it a great quality if life.
It’s unfortunate that many people do not undertake greater consideration when deciding to own a pet. Perhaps many of the day-to-day ethical issues faced in practice could be avoided if they did.
…unless you’re a member of the veterinary professions according to the latest edition of the SPVS Salaries Survey, which has revealed “an overall dip” in vets’ pay packets.
The figures – which cover the whole salary package, including accommodation, company cars and CPD (when provided) – are particularly disappointing for small animal practitioners, revealing that the only vets to see any increase in wage since 2012 are those in mixed and large animal practice. However, salaries for these vets are still lower overall than they were in 2010.
Veterinary nurses fared slightly better, with the average RVN salary continuing to rise over the past year, in marked contrast to veterinary surgeon wages. However, the average RVN salary – now at £20,208 – is still more than £6,000 behind the national UK average of £26,500.
Commenting on the incongruity of the results, SPVS spokesman Peter Brown speculated that demographic differences in the two professions (more vets entering the UK market, compared to a paucity of RVNs) could be behind the stronger nursing trend – something the profession should be particularly aware of with new vet schools set to open.
