Veterinary Patience

Veterinary Work: Vets, Pets and People

Working in veterinary medicine requires a great deal of patience.  Not only do our patients understand very little of the languages we speak to them, when they understand our intentions they often do all they can to thwart them.

In my career you are almost guaranteed to be scratched, bitten and covered in just about every possible bodily fluid by your patients.  And despite being oftentimes demeaning and almost certainly disgusting, there is some joy in knowing that a calm demeanor and tolerant behavior can often get you through the day without having a dog express its anal glands all over you.

The same cannot always be said of the clients.  Pet owners can often be alluded to parents of a child in a pediatric intensive care unit.  They are often more afraid than the patient itself, even more so when their “babies” are unwell or being operated on.

The spay-neuter veterinary clinics AHPPA holds in rural villages across Costa Rica always draw large crowds – entire families accompany their pets to join in the experience.  Even male street dogs come in willingly, drawn by the excitement of large groups of female dogs.  “The first volunteer of the day!” my colleague declared, holding up a local street dog that had wandered into our mobile veterinary clinic, interested in a sedated (and quite vulnerable!) Boxer in heat.  You always catch more flies with honey!

Because we set up our spay-neuter clinic in very public places to attract attention ensuring as many animals are sterilized as possible, we often must deal with the crowds that gather around the operating tables.  Not only does this require a degree of diplomacy and professionalism, but one must be an exceptional multi-tasker to manage the situation.

While simultaneously operating and monitoring anesthesia we must also answer the long list of questions coming from the group and offer assistance to the occasional few who faint at the sight of a dog’s open abdomen.  In addition to this, we often must work while receiving “constructive” criticism from the audience.

Within seconds of seeing surgery many worried owners become accomplished anesthesiologists, specialists in reproductive medicine and confident surgeons.

However, when not terrifying owners who insist on standing over your shoulder with the realities of field veterinary surgery you come across little things that make you smile.

A father held up his 4 year-old son so he could watch me prepare a dog to be spayed.  As I scrubbed the dog’s abdomen, the little boy declared incredulously to his father, “I had no idea, Papa, no idea that dog’s have boobies.  No idea!”  I chuckled to myself as I began the operation.  The boy stared as I incised the dog’s abdomen.  “We’d better go, Papa.  It looks like the Gringa is about to kill the dog.”  Never has my self-esteem been so swiftly and effectively crushed by a 4 year-old.

People often think that as vets we spend our days solely with animals; on the contrary, the majority of our jobs involve working with people.  And while I may feel my patience tested from time to time, there is nothing more rewarding than seeing a patient recovered and well taken home by its loving family.  To know that we made a difference that day, in the lives of the animals and in the community, is enough to beat even the harshest of 4 year-old critics.

Submitted by AHPPA veterinary volunteer working with our Spay-Neuter Outreach Program.