When The Student Becomes The Colleague

I am on my way to Washington DC via the Marc train from Penn Station Baltimore to meet one of my vet school professors for lunch and a catch up on where the last few years have taken us. 

He was one of the coolest professors at vet school and has remained one of my strongest mentors and most inspiring friends. He completed his veterinary degree a scant few decades ago, went on to become boarded in Zoo Medicine, (a huge feat!), then returned to vet school to provide real-life experience and guidance to us VMRCVM  students in the newly emerging field of “Government and Corporate Veterinary Medicine”.  He has written a book on the odd and interesting zoo medicine cases that he and his colleagues have encountered, and above all he remains a steadfast pillar of support for veterinarians and an advocate for animals worldwide.

What I find so interesting is this transition as I re-unite with friends, professors, and old shipmates and realize that we have grown up and in the process become colleagues.

I spent last night at a ship party where many of my old sailing mates from my long home away from home. C.S. Global Mariner, (a ship I spent 6 years of 4 month on, and 4 month off rotations on), were celebrating a major milestone in their shipboard life. The ship had been accident free for a full 365 days. This is an incredible accomplishment when you think about the degree of difficulty involved in the work they perform and the environment in which that work is done. The 30 - 40 foot, (or plus), seas, treacherous wet slippery decks, operating a project 24/7, and the emotional stress of being far away and almost unreachable for months on end is not exactly a “safe work environment.” There is a damned good reason that we were sent out to sea with a fully stocked medical facility and a medical officer. Just speaking for me personally I will admit to the following casualties: 1 unexplained fainting episode onto a very unforgiving steel deck that left me deaf and on “bed only” duty for three days, a static electrical shock that threw me 6 feet onto the opposite bulkhead (wall), burnt three of my fingers and left permanent numbness and nerve damage in 6 of my fingers, food poisoning that incapacitated me for a week in Peru, multiple crushed fingers, a few bouts of mild hypothermia, and to this day, if I have a nightmare it involves a ship. That’s what 10 years at sea did to me, and I was the cautious careful sailor.

And this was my life for the 90's.

I met up with my old Captain last night at their ship party. I joined his ship right out of college at 21, eager and oblivious. When I met him for the first time, after arriving at the ship “in uniform” I was directed to “go up to his office right away.” I dropped my bag at the gangway and headed up the four flights of stairs to his palatial Captain’s office. To my surprise there was no customary hand shake and “welcome aboard.” Instead he asked me to hand over my license, (in retrospect I think he was checking to see if it appeared to be legit), and then began to berate me with, “I want you to know that I did everything in my power to keep you off of this ship. I do not think that women belong at sea because they are nothing but trouble, but I am stuck with you.” He then directed me out of his office and to the Purser’s office to be signed on. As I walked down the stairs I remember thinking to myself, “If that M-F’er didn’t have my license I would march down that gangway and drive home!” At the end of that 4 month horrendously difficult cable lay I was the only Mate left that he hadn’t quit or been fired. Ten years later I left the company and went to Vet school. Ten years after that was last night and we are now respectively titled Capt and Doctor. He is as proud of me as my parents are, and I am now as glad as he was 20 years ago to not be on any ship.  He was right about one thing, I didn’t belong there. But for god’s sake never tell me I can’t do something. I will do it just to spite you even if it makes me miserable in the process. (It took me until I was 32ish to learn that wasn’t such a beneficially trait).

As I approach Union station I am now 6 years out of vet school and a fellow Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. My once-ago vet school professor is now the colleague to bounce real world stories off, and share new plans for the next chapter of my career. But even if we now share the same title I will always see him as the supreme veterinary path adviser.

So at 20 years post USMMA (college), 10 years post sailing, and 6 years post VMRCVM (Vet school), I feel a profound sense of joy in finally getting to where I was trying to get to the whole time and an immense sense of gratitude to all of those who helped me get here.

Graduation Day,
Virginia-Maryland Regional College of Veterinary Medicine
Class of 2005

Life is really about the journey, although this destination feels like a perfect fit.

Every 14 year old girl wants to be a Vet

I know that I get to live a lot of peoples dream. I have moms come up to me every day and announce with a big prideful smile that their "little girl is 14 years old and wants to be a vet someday."  I was one of those 14 year olds about a million years ago. (Although I know for sure that my parents never marched me into the Vet’s office and proudly presented me as any kind of future anything). My dad never wanted me to be a Vet, or an artist, (my back-up plan), I grew up doing all of the things that I my parents wanted me to do, what  I was supposed to do, and doing them with a huge amount of pressure on my shoulders that there was no back-up plan allowed. There was their yellow brick road that they had chosen for me, or, there was an abyss if I chose for myself. My parents were frugal people and vet school and the veterinary profession did not meet their standards for 'success'. From their point of view it was an effort to solidify for me what they thought was “successful”. Boy did I show them. I did what they wanted me to do for as long as I could stand it (a decade), and then I went back to school to become a veterinarian.

But let's get back to those 14 year olds...

I always sigh, tilt my head, purse my lips and nod my head when I am asked to provide the mentor ship and words of encouragement that I know those parents expect from me.  How do I break it to them that it just isn’t as easy as cute and cuddly puppies all day? (We all wish it was, but this is real-life. There aren’t birds singing, dogs dancing, and cats doing a polka). It is real life drama that can break your heart, burn you out, and bust you both emotionally and financially. That’s real-life when you are a veterinarian.

Every 14 year old looks at life with rose colored glasses. It is the best part of being 14, and no one should ever deny you that. Real-life shouldn’t impact you at 14. The world should be your oyster and every door should be waiting for like a sweepstakes prize for you to open. It’s probably a good idea to shield your 14 year old kids from the likes of me if they say they want to be a veterinarian. I am going to be completely honest, and let’s face it you don’t probably don’t want me to be.

Here’s what I have learned about living your dream. It always comes at a price. So let’s go over the financial price of vet school. First you have to have a four year undergraduate degree. Average cost between $12, 000 to $40,000 a year. Times four. Then you have to get into vet school. Not necessarily expensive but it can be difficult and time is money. Then there is the four years of vet school. Average cost $20,000 to $100,000 a year. Times four.  I would say that my average vet school classmate spent over $140,000 to get into and out of vet school. I know of others who are $300,000 in debt. That is a whole lot of money. It is a substantial investment of both money and time. An investment of that magnitude takes a few moments to ponder. There are many important questions to answer when you stand at the precipice of a decision like this.

Before we discuss just how serious you have to be about this career let’s talk about what life after vet school looks like. Lets start with the emotional side. OK, you get in, (lucky you, you beat the odds, (less than 1 in 5 get in). You spend four long grueling, challenging, and very stressful years having given up almost everything for those four years to get out, (the stats for this are FAR better, usually about 90% of the Vet students who start their freshman year graduate), then you need a job. In general Veterinary jobs have been pretty plentiful. That is up until this recession hit. There are now many Veterinarians looking for work. None of us ever thought this would happen. But it has. You may not be able to find a job once you graduate from vet school. If you do get a job you will likely make around $50,000 to $60,000 dollars a year. It will take you over 10 years (or up to 20) to pay off your debt, but in that time you are also trying to resume a life you had on hold for about 8 years. You want a car that isn’t embarrassing to be seen in, or one that runs. You also want to buy a house, and maybe start to plan a family. You are in debt for a long time. But what if you aspire to owning your own clinic? Well, that’s a tough nut to crack. Most vets don’t think about this until they have been out for 10 plus years. So the debt mountain grows.

Back to being a 14 year old. I want every single person to live their passion every single day of their life. We should all be so lucky. Now here is my full admission. I LOVE being a vet. I love the puppies, the kittens, the middle aged dogs and cats and the old guys too. I love to sit in their cage, stroke their ears, calm them if they are afraid, and try to unlock the puzzle of what is ailing them. In most cases, I love my clients too. At 6 years out of school I have a handful of clients that I am honored, privileged, and adore serving. 

Of the 88 classmates I graduated vet school with 78 are women. Women are dominating this field. Women over represent this career for many reasons; First, and foremost, we are genetically wired to be nurturers. It is the undeniable maternal instinct to help others, especially the less fortunate, or those who cannot help themselves. The sadder the scenario the more we are drawn to the plot. (Chick flick, anyone?) We also are now able to seek any career we want. There are no restrictions for women anymore. Women also in most cases do not feel the same compelling need to be the primary bread winner. If you are going to spend so much time and money in school then with everything else being equal men go into the human medical field because you will make substantially more money. It has taken me a few years to understand this concept, but both veterinary and human medicine means that you have to deal with people. Don’t go into vet school like I did because you “like animals better than people”. In almost all cases you have to deal with people (owners) if you want to treat pets. I had to learn how to talk to, handle, and deal with owners, when all I really wanted to do is heal animals. One of my closest and most respected vet school classmates wrote on his vet school freshmen essay that the reason he wanted to be a veterinarian was to help people. He had it right, and he is one of the best veterinarians I ever knew. What he knew then took me years to figure out. To help pets I had to figure out how to get their owners to want me to help them. I had to figure out how to build trust that I not only knew what I was doing, but could be trusted with the care of their pet. My mission is to strengthen the bond between an owner and their pet.

There is an inherent assumption that must be clarified. You don’t always meet the owners who want their pet to be treated. Not all people view their pet as their responsibility or concern. I understand that not everyone looks at their pet as a blessing. Some people see them as a soul-less, meaningless, burden. How do you get past the heartbreak of a helpless pet being ignored, denied care, or simply being overlooked? That is my greatest challenge. That is what causes burn-out. Along with the financial burden of people routinely trying to guilt you into treating the animal they have been feeding, housing, (i.e “owning”) but now needs a financially responsible party to step forward.

To all of those moms and 14 year olds out there I say, “live your dream!”, but please understand that it takes a tough strong determination and a solid foundation for you to live this dream. Embrace the happy endings, the wonderful clients and patients who always make you smile and who appreciate you, but know that you will be challenged and there are some very difficult decisions to make. In the end it’s not how much money you make its how strongly you believe in your own ability to make a difference and live your dream. Your conscience is not for sale unless you pin a price tag on it. And I wish you all the luck in the world. (There were a few pharmacology exams where I think that luck was the only thing that got me through.)

I thought I would include some of the "lighter" moments in vet school. Here are a few shots of us goofing around on our radiology block. It was the last week of school, the faculty is happy if we show up, so we push the limits of professionalism, as you can see.

Here are some pictures of graduation. It was a great day, and one of the high points of my life. I was so happy to have completed what so many people told me I couldn't achieve.