I was driving to work yesterday morning, feeling COMPLETELY miserable. Flu-like symptoms, my body ached like it had been beaten and rolled down a hill. I was freezing, then two seconds later, sweating. My head was pounding and I had a very painful baseball sized lymph node under my right armpit. Don’t worry, though, I wasn’t going to spread a horrible sickness among co-workers (this time), but instead, I had gotten vaccinated two days prior – my third COVID-19 vaccine (a booster) and it hit me like a truck. I kept thinking to myself “Ugh! I just want to go home. This is going to be a long day. I can’t call in sick though because I already have a completely full schedule and can’t just leave my co-workers to take all of my cases.” Such is the life of a vet. Don’t worry, there’s awesome parts too (just not in this blog).
Training to be a vet is sort of like boot camp for a marine (but not at all the same). Once you enter vet school, they start the mental and physical conditioning. Not only is there no rest for the weary, but if you’re weary, there’s extra work. They start with a grueling schedule of 8 hours of advanced science/medicine classes per day – 8am-5pm, then expect you to go home and review the material (they approximate an hour per hour of class). Then, the testing starts. This means studying night after late night into the early morning, internally debating whether more review or sleep will be better for you (psst! Get the sleep). One professor described the onslaught of information vs retention as throwing a giant pile of horse crap at a wall and hoping some of it sticks.
After three and a half years of dragging your brain across a cactus field, the clinical rotations start. Vet school clinicians (drill sergeants) are notoriously miserable themselves, and therefore, feel the need to make sure everyone else is also miserable. I can’t blame them, necessarily, they are dealing with the hardest cases (most animals don’t come to the vet school unless there’s a super complicated issue that a general practitioner can’t deal with), they are doing it on very little income, and they are having to “babysit” over eager students who, despite having studied for 3.5 years, don’t know squat. **side note: some of the senior clinician are absolute SAINTS – made to teach AND a master of their field. And some are literally trying to drag you down to hell with their miserable selves – none shall be pictured.**
While a student, you are expected not to complain about not sleeping because someone always has to comment how they’ve been up for 32 hours straight (to which I guess you are supposed to bow down to that person?). You are expected not to complain about being hungry – you may, I don’t know, end up eating some horse or dog food because you are so hungry and it doesn’t look too bad when you’re holding a horse for the 90th hour and haven’t been allowed to move. You are not to use the bathroom while people are around – thou shalt not flaunt your excessive time allotment by urinating when others cannot.
You are expected to show up NO MATTER WHAT is going on. Snow storm? In Georgia, where snow plows are a thing of fairy tales? Better start hiking or you won’t hear the end of it when you finally manage to drag yourself (and wreckage of a car) into the hospital. Have the flu? Might as well resign vet school before calling in. I mean, technically, they’ll have to allow you to stay home, but you may be excommunicated for showing an ounce of self care. Also, you’d be so much cooler if you just took some ibuprofen and pushed on. Vomiting? Just bring a bucket and you can empty it during your bathroom breaks which don’t exist. Pregnant? Just get out. (There were actually a few classmates who were brave enough to have kids during vet school and they are all amazing women and vets to this day).
You made it to graduation, yay!! You somehow also survived the SIX HOUR test you have to take to apply for a license. Some will go on to start their career, while some will choose to get internships with the idea that this will ease them better into the work field (because when you graduate, despite the physical and mental torture and water boarding of information, you still know nothing, but are happy to be alive). Some internships are AMAZING (I’ve been told), but some are just a way to get you to do the crap work, while getting crapped on (pun intended), further breaking you down (because now it’s about breaking your soul) all with the exciting wage of $25,000/year – with the ($100K+ with 6-12% interest) student loans lapping at your heels.
You can then, enter a residency if you choose to be specialized in a certain discipline (surgery, medicine, oncology, ophthalmology, etc) – typically you will need to be at the top of your class (I was NOT) and even more into self torture than most. This option is three years of more intensity than anything previously experienced, with, again, little pay – but from what I’ve heard, you won’t need the money anyway – sleep at the hospital, never eat, etc.
Finally, it’s time to start your career. Due to the mental, physical, and spiritual beating you have endured, you’re perfectly happy and, in fact, eternally grateful for your first job offer. $42,000/yr? YES!! That’s almost twice as much as you were making as an intern, living on literal beans and rice!! You’re going to be rich!! (you might even be able to add some CHEESE to your beans and rice). From here, it may be a good 2-3 years before you don’t think you’ve made a huge mistake and that you’re a failure and imposter, and then 7-10 years before you realize your worth – as a vet, but mostly as a person.
So, now, you’re finally comfortable in your own skin, you work hard, contribute your all, but also expect respect from your boss, co-workers, and, especially, clients. Finally, it’s time to start realizing what there is to love about veterinary medicine. *See next blog*
