很想转这篇blog来给pet owner们看一下# pets - 心有所宠
s*d
1 楼
比较长，但是很写实。
The thing I hate about being a veterinarian
In my day to day life as a veterinarian, there is something that I dread
doing. This particular thing makes me squirm, twitch, drool and retch. I try
to avoid it at all costs, and I consider myself to be blessed if I have
technicians willing to do it for me. Want to guess what it is?
Expressing anal glands? (Nope. I secretly think it is rewarding to do this)
Doing a dental on a pus filled, rotting mouth? (Fun times!)
Sifting through dog puke to make sure it threw up all the rat poison? (Love
it, even though I am a sympathy puker)
Draining a 4 day old, putrid, maggot infested cat bite abscess? (No,
although dealing with maggot wounds sometimes makes me reconsider my career
choices.)
As gross and vomit inducing as all of the above may be, the thing I hate
doing the most as a veterinarian is talking to clients about money.
That may surprise those of you non-veterinarians out there, but if you were
to take a poll I have a feeling you would find many vets feel the same way.
We came into this career to do the best we possibly can for each patient,
and when finances intervene it gets tricky and heart wrenching. We find
ourselves having to consider and weigh the best interests of the patient,
the finances of the client, and the demands of our business. I love and want
to help animals, and yet I have to make a living. These sometimes competing
interests can put us in a horrible dilemma, where no matter which way we
turn someone gets hurt.
After vet school I practiced for about 3 years in the desert of Southern
California. If you are nuts enough to stay with me on this blog you will
realize how much I learned out there. Anyways, in that area were a lot of
backyard Chihuahua breeders.
Chihuahuas are cute little dogs. Sometimes they can be little bitty land
sharks, but regardless of their nature the females often have a teeny pelvis
and have to give birth to puppies with larger than normal skulls. As a
result, it is a breed in which pregnant females often need to undergo a
Caesarian section.
One day, a man I will call Mr. Smith came running into the clinic with his
pregnant Chihuahua, “Precious.” Precious weighed all of 5 pounds, and had
been in unproductive labor for 2 days. By this point she was cold, weak and
in tremendous pain. Her puppies were dead, and lodged in her pelvic canal.
I quickly did an exam on her, and started her on emergency treatments….
warming her, giving her IV fluids and a dose of pain medication. I told Mr.
Smith that the only hope for saving Precious was to do an emergency C-
section. She would need to be on intravenous fluids, pain medication and
antibiotics. The total cost for treatment was going to be 600-800 dollars.
Mr. Smith scoffed, and told me that the only money he had was the forty
dollars he had in his pocket…not even enough for the initial exam. He didn
’t own any credit cards, and insisted there were no relatives he could call
, or items he could pawn. I had a sweet, shivering, dying dog whose owner
could not possibly afford the treatment needed to save her life.
I went and begged and pleaded with my boss, who kindly but reluctantly
allowed me to cut Mr. Smith a break. I would give Precious the treatment she
needed, we would spay her so she could no longer have puppies, and we would
only charge Mr. Smith $100.00, which would need to be paid within 5 days.
Mr. Smith appeared to be grateful, and left Precious in my care.
The surgery went extremely well, and 2 days later Precious was bright, happy
, and munching on the daily chicken I would bring her. Mr. Smith thanked us,
and took Precious home.
Guess what? He never paid us a cent.
About 2 months later, Mr. Smith returned to the clinic with “Angel,”
another pregnant Chihuahua with the exact same problem as Precious. Dead
puppies. Unproductive labor, this time for 3 days. Cold. In tremendous pain.
Dying.
Now, the veterinarian in me wanted to rush Angel back and get to work saving
her. However, this would have meant doing another 600-800 dollar procedure
at no cost. I spoke to my boss, who as gently as he could told me we could
not afford to extend more charity to this man who had yet to pay us ANYTHING
for the first C-section. He told me I could offer to have Mr. Smith sign
ownership of Angel to us, or I could offer to put Angel to sleep at no
charge, which would at least end her suffering.
I went back into the exam room and explained this all to Mr. Smith. He was
very angry. He told me there was no way he was going to let me “steal or
murder” his dog. He kept begging me to save her. He cried. He pleaded. He
told me that his mother had just recently died and Angel was the only friend
he had left in the world. He asked me how I could be so cold and heartless.
Didn’t I see she was suffering?
It was an awful situation. In the end, Mr. Smith yelled that I was a cold
hearted witch that only cared about money. He took Angel home, where I am
sure she died a horrible, painful death. That case still haunts me.
Now I know some of you may be agreeing with Mr. Smith…that I was cold, that
I should have just done the surgery and saved Angel. I could have let him
make payments, or taken a post-dated check, or just gone ahead and done the
surgery at no cost. The kind, compassionate veterinarian in me agrees with
you. After all, it wasn’t Angel’s fault that her owner could not afford
the surgery, right?
Here’s the thing though….when would it end? What if in another few months
Mr. Smith came into the clinic with no money, with another sick dog that
needed help? What about the clients that sacrificed and stretched to pay for
their animal’s treatment? If I continued to give my services away for free
, I would either bankrupt the hospital or find myself without a job and a
mountain of student debt, a car payment, insurance payment, rent, etc.
It is expensive to operate a veterinary hospital. For your average clinic,
by the time you factor in the daily cost of employee salaries, supplies such
as medications, electricity, water, waste disposal, taxes, etc. it costs at
least $2800 per day.
This is why I hate discussing money with owners. I feel guilty, because
there is a part of me that feels bad for charging people for what I do. In a
perfect world, I could give each pet the best care every time. Money would
be no object AND I would make enough to pay my bills and save a bit.
However, that dream world doesn’t exist. I used to think human doctors had
it so easy because insurance paid for everything. Hmm. It seems like they
aren’t even close to figuring that one out. How do you provide good quality
health care to everyone when good quality health care is REALLY expensive?
Like I said, it is a dilemma.
We veterinarians are not rich. We don’t go into this profession to make a
gazillion dollars. Many of us are happy if we have enough left over to put
into savings. We want to practice good medicine, and we want to use our
knowledge and expertise to save lives. It breaks our heart when this isn’t
possible, and it crushes our souls when we get accused of loving money more
than the well-being of our patients.
There are, of course, a few dishonest veterinarians out there that try to
milk clients for everything that they are worth…who pad the bill with
unnecessary tests, or the most expensive medications. Trust me…they are few
and far between. Our profession abhors them.
If you own a pet, please consider that veterinary care is often quite
expensive. Plan for it, and consider having a savings account, or looking
into pet insurance. Take your dog or cat into the vet for annual exams so
that potential problems can be addressed early on. Remember that when we
present you with a treatment estimate we are not trying to scam you. We care
about your pet, and we need to get paid for what we do so we can continue
on caring for pets for many years to come.
If you are a vet that has found yourself in the same dilemma, my next blog
entry will be for you. (Compassion fatigue). In the meantime, be kind to
yourself and remember that you can only do what you can, with what you have,
given the situation in front of you. Take care.
The thing I hate about being a veterinarian
In my day to day life as a veterinarian, there is something that I dread
doing. This particular thing makes me squirm, twitch, drool and retch. I try
to avoid it at all costs, and I consider myself to be blessed if I have
technicians willing to do it for me. Want to guess what it is?
Expressing anal glands? (Nope. I secretly think it is rewarding to do this)
Doing a dental on a pus filled, rotting mouth? (Fun times!)
Sifting through dog puke to make sure it threw up all the rat poison? (Love
it, even though I am a sympathy puker)
Draining a 4 day old, putrid, maggot infested cat bite abscess? (No,
although dealing with maggot wounds sometimes makes me reconsider my career
choices.)
As gross and vomit inducing as all of the above may be, the thing I hate
doing the most as a veterinarian is talking to clients about money.
That may surprise those of you non-veterinarians out there, but if you were
to take a poll I have a feeling you would find many vets feel the same way.
We came into this career to do the best we possibly can for each patient,
and when finances intervene it gets tricky and heart wrenching. We find
ourselves having to consider and weigh the best interests of the patient,
the finances of the client, and the demands of our business. I love and want
to help animals, and yet I have to make a living. These sometimes competing
interests can put us in a horrible dilemma, where no matter which way we
turn someone gets hurt.
After vet school I practiced for about 3 years in the desert of Southern
California. If you are nuts enough to stay with me on this blog you will
realize how much I learned out there. Anyways, in that area were a lot of
backyard Chihuahua breeders.
Chihuahuas are cute little dogs. Sometimes they can be little bitty land
sharks, but regardless of their nature the females often have a teeny pelvis
and have to give birth to puppies with larger than normal skulls. As a
result, it is a breed in which pregnant females often need to undergo a
Caesarian section.
One day, a man I will call Mr. Smith came running into the clinic with his
pregnant Chihuahua, “Precious.” Precious weighed all of 5 pounds, and had
been in unproductive labor for 2 days. By this point she was cold, weak and
in tremendous pain. Her puppies were dead, and lodged in her pelvic canal.
I quickly did an exam on her, and started her on emergency treatments….
warming her, giving her IV fluids and a dose of pain medication. I told Mr.
Smith that the only hope for saving Precious was to do an emergency C-
section. She would need to be on intravenous fluids, pain medication and
antibiotics. The total cost for treatment was going to be 600-800 dollars.
Mr. Smith scoffed, and told me that the only money he had was the forty
dollars he had in his pocket…not even enough for the initial exam. He didn
’t own any credit cards, and insisted there were no relatives he could call
, or items he could pawn. I had a sweet, shivering, dying dog whose owner
could not possibly afford the treatment needed to save her life.
I went and begged and pleaded with my boss, who kindly but reluctantly
allowed me to cut Mr. Smith a break. I would give Precious the treatment she
needed, we would spay her so she could no longer have puppies, and we would
only charge Mr. Smith $100.00, which would need to be paid within 5 days.
Mr. Smith appeared to be grateful, and left Precious in my care.
The surgery went extremely well, and 2 days later Precious was bright, happy
, and munching on the daily chicken I would bring her. Mr. Smith thanked us,
and took Precious home.
Guess what? He never paid us a cent.
About 2 months later, Mr. Smith returned to the clinic with “Angel,”
another pregnant Chihuahua with the exact same problem as Precious. Dead
puppies. Unproductive labor, this time for 3 days. Cold. In tremendous pain.
Dying.
Now, the veterinarian in me wanted to rush Angel back and get to work saving
her. However, this would have meant doing another 600-800 dollar procedure
at no cost. I spoke to my boss, who as gently as he could told me we could
not afford to extend more charity to this man who had yet to pay us ANYTHING
for the first C-section. He told me I could offer to have Mr. Smith sign
ownership of Angel to us, or I could offer to put Angel to sleep at no
charge, which would at least end her suffering.
I went back into the exam room and explained this all to Mr. Smith. He was
very angry. He told me there was no way he was going to let me “steal or
murder” his dog. He kept begging me to save her. He cried. He pleaded. He
told me that his mother had just recently died and Angel was the only friend
he had left in the world. He asked me how I could be so cold and heartless.
Didn’t I see she was suffering?
It was an awful situation. In the end, Mr. Smith yelled that I was a cold
hearted witch that only cared about money. He took Angel home, where I am
sure she died a horrible, painful death. That case still haunts me.
Now I know some of you may be agreeing with Mr. Smith…that I was cold, that
I should have just done the surgery and saved Angel. I could have let him
make payments, or taken a post-dated check, or just gone ahead and done the
surgery at no cost. The kind, compassionate veterinarian in me agrees with
you. After all, it wasn’t Angel’s fault that her owner could not afford
the surgery, right?
Here’s the thing though….when would it end? What if in another few months
Mr. Smith came into the clinic with no money, with another sick dog that
needed help? What about the clients that sacrificed and stretched to pay for
their animal’s treatment? If I continued to give my services away for free
, I would either bankrupt the hospital or find myself without a job and a
mountain of student debt, a car payment, insurance payment, rent, etc.
It is expensive to operate a veterinary hospital. For your average clinic,
by the time you factor in the daily cost of employee salaries, supplies such
as medications, electricity, water, waste disposal, taxes, etc. it costs at
least $2800 per day.
This is why I hate discussing money with owners. I feel guilty, because
there is a part of me that feels bad for charging people for what I do. In a
perfect world, I could give each pet the best care every time. Money would
be no object AND I would make enough to pay my bills and save a bit.
However, that dream world doesn’t exist. I used to think human doctors had
it so easy because insurance paid for everything. Hmm. It seems like they
aren’t even close to figuring that one out. How do you provide good quality
health care to everyone when good quality health care is REALLY expensive?
Like I said, it is a dilemma.
We veterinarians are not rich. We don’t go into this profession to make a
gazillion dollars. Many of us are happy if we have enough left over to put
into savings. We want to practice good medicine, and we want to use our
knowledge and expertise to save lives. It breaks our heart when this isn’t
possible, and it crushes our souls when we get accused of loving money more
than the well-being of our patients.
There are, of course, a few dishonest veterinarians out there that try to
milk clients for everything that they are worth…who pad the bill with
unnecessary tests, or the most expensive medications. Trust me…they are few
and far between. Our profession abhors them.
If you own a pet, please consider that veterinary care is often quite
expensive. Plan for it, and consider having a savings account, or looking
into pet insurance. Take your dog or cat into the vet for annual exams so
that potential problems can be addressed early on. Remember that when we
present you with a treatment estimate we are not trying to scam you. We care
about your pet, and we need to get paid for what we do so we can continue
on caring for pets for many years to come.
If you are a vet that has found yourself in the same dilemma, my next blog
entry will be for you. (Compassion fatigue). In the meantime, be kind to
yourself and remember that you can only do what you can, with what you have,
given the situation in front of you. Take care.
