Vet P.O.V. Grief 101: Learning to Cry In Vet School

In vet school at the University of Pennsylvania we had this matronly, social worker professor-of-sorts who we all secretly loved though she was thoroughly uncool. She was the head of the veterinary hospital’s grief counseling program.

This woman was incredible. She would silently patrol the halls, wards and waiting rooms for signs of impending doom and could always be counted on to appear—miraculously on schedule—at the exact moment any sign of grief was rearing its ugly head. She was a bereavement bloodhound—and we revered her for her perfect pitch when we were at a loss in dealing with an emotional parent.

For my part I can say I learned a lot from her. Her gentleness and wise words were never off the mark. Even the hardest among us at least learned words that worked, even when our stabs at expressing sympathy were confused by our insecurities or clouded by emotions.

In one instance I’ll never forget, she managed to appear behind me, on hand at my very first euthanasia. I was in one of the most secluded part of the hospital wards with a resident at my side. It was after eight at night and yet she managed to find us in the nick of time. I was both inconsolably tearful and embarrassed by my unprofessional appearance. The clients were not present, thank God.

This dog had been my first intensive care case lasting more than a week in a slow, downward spiral. He was a two-year-old boxer named Kato and his bizarre, autoimmune disease had rapidly consumed his joints. He was in so much pain that evening his owners had authorized his euthanasia from afar (they lived two hours away and chose not to prolong his suffering for the duration of their drive).

As I wheeled the stretcher off to the pathology room (our morgue) she accompanied me into the elevator. She was silent the whole time. I self-consciously stared at the floor. Finally, she said, "Remember how you feel right now and keep it with you for your whole career. If you can do that you’ll be a great vet, no matter what else happens." How did she know exactly what to say?

I kept Kato’s hospital card with me (in my lab coat) for the rest of my time in school. I still keep it in my jewelry box so I can see it each time I open it. It always triggers thoughts, not only of Kato, but also of everything I learned from that one, unapologetically uncool social worker at Penn.

September 26th, 2006

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Needed tissue for this one. :(

Thanks for sharing.

Semavi Lady September 26th, 2006 02:40:00 PM

I needed tissues, too. Don`t worry, I think that`s the saddest story I have--well, close...

Dr. Patty Khuly September 27th, 2006 06:35:00 AM

I've learned, especially in my job at Mothers Against Drunk Driving, that tears and compassion are not a sign of weakness. Being able to feel, to bear the saddness and serve others is courageous.

I had an experience with Cody (my male dog) last week. He hurt his paw and was unable to walk on it. I was comforted that a family member, a vet, a surgeon, would be coming over that night and would examine my dog. He refused to even look at the dog. He mocked my concern and purposefully bullied my gentile female dog so as not to be approached by her. He also ate my food and slept in my guestroom. Upon leaving in the morning, he said, "if the paw doesn't get better, he should be seen."

Now you now understand why I am so grateful that you are my vet. You let me know early on that you would care for my animals and me. I needed to vent. I'm still appauled!

Janet (Cody and Gracie's mom) October 4th, 2006 09:04:00 PM

Patty,

That is such a touching story. Thanks for sharing. As a nurse I never want to lose my humanity either and struggle with keeping it "cool" in the face of bad news or changes for my patients. I'm glad to know that being "Uncool" like your teacher, and like you with Kato really makes us all the more humane. Keep it up. Love your blog! Tamara

trichards March 10th, 2008 01:51:00 PM

Now you now understand why I am so grateful that you are my vet. You let me know early on that you would care for my animals and me. I needed to vent. I'm still appauled!

316L stainless steel jewelry November 6th, 2008 03:28:00 AM

So many people tell me that I shouldn't follow my dream of being a vet because I am "too sensitive" and too much of a wimp. Reading this just proves how wrong they are! Sensitiviy and tears are def. not signs of weakness but signs that we have a heart and that we are normal human beings who have not been desensitized by society.

Deandhra December 28th, 2008 03:30:22 PM

I just re-read this post. Still makes me cry. I'm so lucky to be able to still feel this moment...I can't tell you how much it's meant to me over the years...

Dr. Patty Khuly February 14th, 2009 08:55:16 AM

Awesome story Dr Patty and a good reminder about keeping in tough with your humanity.

I think sensitivity gives professionals an edge that makes them better practitioners--although I am not sure about the numbers related to compassion fatigue in your field--which is why I suspect many shut down.

Find me blogging at Ark Animals...

Ark Lady February 14th, 2009 11:38:29 AM

A great one from the archives that deserves repeat in full. I agree with A.L., humanity is everything.

I have a friend that graduated from Penn, worked at Penn (bio dept) and later worked a lot of years at as hospice coordinator. She was a true friend before, during, and after a time of need and never gave up on me, despite my garbled emotions.

She, like you, had much inborn sensitivity and never became compassion fatigue statistic, despite a very tough field.

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