How Did We Get Here? The intersection of veterinary medicines needs and the professions gains.

I have tried to hold on, to not lose faith. I know I am not alone. I used to believe, heck, know emphatically, that every veterinarian came into this profession with the same common goal. We all came here because we loved animals in such a compulsory way that we would endure decades of schooling to help them in whatever capacity we could. We were pragmatic in knowing we could not always bend fate by sheer hopeful will, nor cure where disease had overtaken, but every so often some little wet nose would be saved by the hard work of our hands and the training of our mind. Vetmed was about this for all of us. Wealth from collecting and consolidating, or, fragmenting and focusing, well that was for the other white coats and their heart transplants and cancer ports. We vets were a humble, gritty, salt of the earth bunch. Quiet, yet trustworthy. Never a white coat spared for vanities sake. We were smelly, dirty, and proud of the badges of barn dust and species feathers we pinned in our caps. We boasted about having to be very skilled to fix a patient who didn't speak their ailments. We helped every patient who came our way. Each and every one of them, owned, beloved, lost, frail, unnamed, or otherwise was seen our duty, and our reputation on the line if we didn't at least try. We fostered compassion with every act of empathy. We were never too busy to be a beacon of hope in a world of cruelty. We were old souls that passed on our pearls of the profession from our weathered hands and thrifty resourcefulness to fresh faces of the next generations. We stood for the common man and their house pets inherent nucleus of the families whole. I set out to go to vet school to be this person. I bought my practice to perpetuate this long sought after lifestyle. I came into vetmed with all of this as our collective credo. The torch of quiet kindness for the sake of all the souls of the world we live within made vetmed the most honorable profession of them all. Without exception we were all cut, fashioned, and trained from this.  

Raffles. My Beloved kitty

I used to believe all veterinarians came here for this. The preservation of purpose. Perhaps we still graduate as this fledgling of hope and goodness, but, somewhere along the way the elevation of the status to pets being the glue and marrow of our all too complicated lives became so valuable it was extort-able, things changed. These voiceless, beloved to the point of needed beyond replacement value pets became fodder for greed. At some point it became permissible and acceptable to go to vet school at a price point the market could not support. With the incurring hundred of thousands of dollars of vet school debt, the corporate take over of the practices and the limitless, unregulated increasingly escalating cost of care, the professions barrage of whispered reminders that we are worth the six figures we command, the idea of being the one who cares for all as the oath we all took got lost. The profits soared, the costs climbed and the divide between the cans and the cannots grew in never before seen numbers. It became acceptable to place blame. It became permissible to deny care. It became excusable to turn the most needy away as we lacked the time, the willingness, and the empathy for them to make it worth our while. I don't know when that first denial to help because it was no longer profitable to even try happened, but it is now a systemic plague that has killed millions. We are part of this even if we can justify to myriad of reasons why. There is a shortage of veterinarians, and a squabble of people throwing obscene amounts of money at them, making it feasible by charging exorbitant amounts of money to feed the machine, and perpetuate the profession. We were once the place where all are welcome, all are cared for, and now we are the profession of the wealthy, or good luck finding help among the masses in the same boat as you are. I am going to tell all of those nameless, overlooked, dismissed and forgotten, broken hearted pet parents who have met the face of economic driven pet care that they are right. It is now very much about the money. If you are a person who loves their pets as family, spends most of your day insuring that your pets are comfortable and happy beyond the ability to provide the same for yourself than you have either learned this lesson, or will soon. If you are a pet parent who will need to hear the estimate for the cost of your pets care, and then have to negotiate for a higher credit limit to provide it, let's say you do not have $6,000 on hand for a 2 am ER visit, then you need to begin to plan for the ugly that lies ahead. Most vet professionals would insert a strong recommendation to get pet insurance. I will not. While I realize that the future of healthcare for your pet is not foreseeable to most, it is helpful to have some kind of financial plan. The hitch here is that you will not have access to this at 2 am when the deposit is required. You have to have an emergency fund of at least $2,000 and you have to be prepared before that fateful night happens, and you need to have insurance.

My Storm and Frippie.

I came into vetmed when every patient was given options to make them feel better. I came here when "tincture of time" and a pennies on the dollar analgesic plan was the norm. I came here at a time when vetmed didn't have access to the diagnostics, the specialists, or the corporate ownership and we saved more lives in spite of them. I came here when every pet parent was given equal access to our time, our talents and our unquestionable integrity. While it wasn't perfect, it served the patients with equal concern for their family. It came with generous hope, and unmitigated compassion. It was a time when euthanasia was only offered to spare an untreatable pet a suffering death. When equipment was purchased to save lives not bolster share holder dividends and entice/dazzle new talent acquisitions. We paid at point of sale, and never conceived of buying by marketing and passing the purchase price to clients in packages tied to services they couldn't opt out of. We were independent, privately owned, and working for the community who knew us by more than our credentialled monograms. We were faithful, devoted, and supportive of each other in a home-town baked-apple-pie way. I came here to pass the torch my predecessors granted me. Somewhere along the way we all decided we liked stuff, nest eggs, and the chasing of wealth more than the ability to be kind to all. We, the huge collective chasing the American Dream, we, all bought into this. We are all going to be reminded of it every time a life lies in the balance. What would you do if you were in our shoes? How many times do people tell me that they couldn't do my job because they would want to save them all? Where does the ability to chase the American Dream, profit upon the fruits of your labors, and the quest to get as much as you can meet the empathy needed to save the companions we call our lifes joy?