*Trigger Warning – This blog post discusses mental health and suicide.*
In spring 2018, I was in our living room when I received news that would forever alter me as a person. One of my dearest mentors in the veterinary profession had committed suicide. I remember hunching over and immediately breaking into a sob. How could this happen? I had only spoken to him a few weeks prior. He had called to check on me and see how I was holding up. Did I enjoy mixed animal practice like he knew I would? Was I doing okay after my beloved, Papa, lost his long battle with cancer? Did Mark and I still rock climb? Were there any caves out there in Washington I could play in?
I told him that I was doing well and still loving mixed animal practice, though I was worried that injuries were beginning to take their toll on my body. This was something he knew all too well. I rode with him all through college and saw him battle many injuries over those years. He told me to be careful because someday my body may become too injured to continue working on large animals and that I had better make sure to continue to build my skills in small animal medicine. He said, “you just never know where the career could take you” and now I am so deeply grateful I listened to his advice.
I asked him how he was doing. There was a long pause, and he said he was doing well and that he thought of me often. To this day, I still remember that pause. That pause that was filled with sadness I couldn’t yet understand. At that time, it had been 8 years since I had ridden with him in the vet truck. I remember how we would listen to classic rock, talk about how good the fishing would be in the summer, and would Ohio State go to another championship?
He had a special ability to always make me feel seen. When I would take students with me in my own vet truck years later, I tried to make sure they felt as seen as he made me feel. He always told me to remember that I must continue to be a light in this profession, and I carry that passion with me to this day.
At the beginning of this summer, I got another call that I so badly wish I had never received. The husband of one of my best friend’s texted me and asked if I could call him and I knew. I knew, deep in my bones, before I called him what he was going to tell me. This dear friend of mine, while not in the veterinary profession, was in human medicine and faced very similar struggles to what we face in veterinary medicine. When I called him, he told me she committed suicide.
Tragically, these stories of losing someone in the medical profession to suicide are not uncommon. My dear colleagues and friends who have committed suicide have been some of the kindest, most compassionate, deeply loving people I have ever met. Both my mentor and my dear friend were like beacons of light. They made everyone around them feel so special, so seen, and so cared for.
Over the last few decades, there have been many studies that have shown there is an increased risk of suicide in the healthcare professions compared to the general population. Veterinarians are twice as likely to commit suicide compared to dentists, twice as likely as those in human medicine, and over four times as likely as the general population. This trend now extends to not only veterinarians but also our veterinary technicians and shelter workers.
Veterinary medicine, in particular, inherently selects for people who have deep empathy, want to be a voice for the voiceless, and feel deeply in regard to suffering. Veterinary school remains the most difficult of the healthcare schools to be accepted to. Applicants spend years as a student earning a perfect or near perfect GPA, volunteering at veterinary clinics, maintaining leadership positions in clubs and various activities, and still often have to apply multiple times before getting accepted.
After graduation, we can experience compassion fatigue and burn out. We are exposed to emotional distress in both patients and clients, long hours, significant financial burden, emotional blackmail from clients, slander, and online bullying. Because veterinary medicine naturally selects for people that are not only deeply empathetic, but also those who have perfectionist tendencies, this combination can lead to feelings of guilt and shame when a patient is lost, when a mistake is made, or when we realize that there are some things we cannot change or fix in medicine.
I, myself, have experienced all of these things. I have been on the receiving end of online bullying and slander. I graduated with well over $200,000 in debt. I have spent many years of my life on call varying between 25-50% of my free time. I have received verbal abuse from clients. I have experienced compassion fatigue, burn out, and felt lost. Some of the traits I value most in myself are my own deep empathy, my kindness and sensitivity, and my love of the human-animal bond. Sometimes, my own sensitivity makes me grieve deeply when I can’t save a patient or when I have to give families bad news. It can be hard for me to not take these feelings home.
Because September is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month, I think it is important that we are honest and talk about these hard things. The things we wish could be swept under a rug and never seen again. Yes, they are uncomfortable, but they are important. Not only should we be a light unto others, but we should shine light into the darkness and be a light for ourselves.
There are many things we in the veterinary profession can do to improve our mental health including setting healthy work/life boundaries, going to therapy, talking about our feelings, and being kind to each other when we are suffering. We must remind ourselves that we are also people who deserve to be safe and prioritized. Personally, I have learned what helps me cope and that is a combination of crafting, painting, adventuring, counseling, and spending focused, quality time with family and friends.
There are many things that you, as a client, can do too. Be understanding if your veterinarian or technician are running behind. Often, we are behind because we want to give everyone our undivided attention, and that includes emergencies, euthanasia, or unexpected delays. If you had a good experience, leave a positive review. Tell your team how much you appreciate them. Respect their time outside of the clinic. Truly, kindness goes much further than anyone realizes.
In this life, I really believe that if you are lucky, you may be blessed with a few friends who truly see you. They see your soul, the deepest parts of you, and love you not in spite of your flaws, but because of them. I have now lost two of those type of friends to suicide. I hope that this article helps you know that it is okay to talk about mental health. I hope you never have to experience this type of pain and if you do, know you are not alone. There are many positive things that we in the field and you as clients can do to help reduce this sad statistic.
If you or a loved one are suffering or contemplating suicide, please contact the 988 Lifeline.
Dr. Danielle Carey
Union Pet Hospital
Referenced articles:
https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC4266064/
https://blogs.cdc.gov/niosh-science-blog/2019/09/04/veterinary-suicide/