An Open Letter to the Veterinary Community

Like so many of my wonderful colleagues in the seemingly vast yet surprisingly close-knit profession of veterinary medicine, I was born loving animals. Nearly every memory of my childhood involves my family’s Dalmatian or one of our adopted kitties. Being raised Christian also left me pondering how I could pair my faith and adoration of all God’s creations.

Why should man expect his prayer for mercy to be heard by What is above him when he shows no mercy to what is under him? -Pierre Troubetzkoy

It was inevitable that my concern for the well-being of animals as well as my intrigue of science, especially biology, would converge to point me in the direction of veterinary medicine at an early age. I did the mandatory twelve years of primary and secondary school, four years of undergraduate college, and four years of vet school. Finally: Doctor of Veterinary Medicine.

Wow, right? I could finally help pets how I had always dreamed. However, something was lacking. I still didn’t feel complete and fulfilled, somehow. What an unsettling thought for someone who had knit her entire life’s identity and spent over twenty of her twenty-six years on Earth with the singular goal of being a veterinarian! I cannot convey how difficult this notion was to process and acknowledge to myself, even more so to others. Okay, okay. I finally painfully admitted that I was unfulfilled… But WHY?

We vets tend to be highly driven, intelligent, type A personalities always wanting to better ourselves and excel at what we do. Part of that inner fire is survival of the fittest — we have no choice but to be motivated to the extreme in order to complete rigorous schooling and training to be rewarded our DVM degree. Pair that with the genuine and deep emotional concern we have for our patients and the care we develop for our clients, and our job instantly becomes so much more than a 9-to-5; it becomes a part of us. It becomes our identity. Its stresses and tears, joys and triumphs become us. Because many of us shaped our whole lives with the singular goal of becoming a vet, when we don’t feel fully fulfilled in our job, we feel unfulfilled as individuals… we feel “less than” a person. And that person?… Up to that point, she was all that I knew. Who was she now?

I had heard about “compassion fatigue” in vet school (a devastating yet necessary topic for a later blog entry to allow for more detail and awareness), but how could I be feeling it so soon in my career? Part of my overwhelming feelings were in striking a life-work balance when family crises arose. I’m a people-pleaser to those I really care about (I often wish I weren’t, but alas, I am), and that can take its toll on a person with a nurturing nature, especially when both clients and family need you. At first glance, others would think I had it all– loving relationships in my family, friends, and partner; my health; a good education and job. And it’s true: I am blessed tremendously, and I am thankful every day. But something was still off. I didn’t feel fully authentic in my daily expressions at work, and I felt angry and chained due to the shortsighted concept of only getting to “be” one thing in life: vet. I love animals, and I love veterinary medicine– always have, always will. But I’m more than just that, and I want to forge my own path to incorporate all of myself into my goal of helping both animals and people– that’s what I’m truly passionate about. And this realization that I don’t fit the mold is by no means a  written side-eye at my colleagues who have discovered their calling with happiness and fulfillment in more classic veterinary positions; I am endlessly supportive of my associates in the vast map of vet med and so grateful for their contributions. In fact, I felt guilty and a bit of a failure for not being satisfied in private practice, especially when working with people who are more than co-workers… who are true friends and confidantes. However, I now realize that I harbor other special qualities that I hadn’t been using in my work because I hadn’t yet figured out how they could be integrated into being a vet.

I’m working hard on self-confidence and pushing aside feelings of judgment and inadequacy from both outside and inner sources… feeling judged for not becoming a specialist (at least not immediately), feeling judged for neither wanting nor allowing certain stressors of this career (to be explored in a later post) to be a part of my daily existence, feeling judged for not feeling complete as a general practitioner in private practice and curious in finding a new niche, feeling judged for wanting something different and something more. I recently read one of those frequently shared, trite Facebook posts saying, “Working hard for something we don’t care about is called stress. Working hard for something we love is called passion.” I’ve worked hard, but I haven’t always had passion in work. I’ve cared fervently and worried into the night and researched on difficult cases after-hours, but I haven’t had passion. I’ve stressed, for I haven’t had passion. I’m struggling with not feeling guilty or weak for realizing that a traditional path isn’t for me. Damn it, I’ve gotta realize that it’s brave to turn from a well-trod path toward an uncharted one of possibilities. Will that new path lead me to relief work, hospice care, professional writing, and education platforms? All of the above? It’s exciting (and to be honest, a wee bit frightening) to think of all the endless and unexplored ways that I can put my stamp of kindness and difference on the world while remaining true to myself.

If you cannot do great things, do small things in a great way. -Napoleon Hill

Yes, I’m a veterinarian. I’m also creative and aesthetic; I enjoy writing, and I love beauty. I become alive when educating… not merely to tell my clients a list of to dos/ not to dos from a one-sided platform, but to have open conversations with pet owners and work as a team to provide the best care plan for their pets. I thrive in humor, and I have a sincere need to incorporate lightheartedness and a bit more bawdy laughter into my daily life to help my spirit soar and hopefully be the source of someone else’s smile. I’m very introspective, and sometimes that piece of myself is not always conducive to traditional clinical veterinary settings, so I seek ways of changing the norm as I require alone-time to think holistically and recharge. I am fiercely loyal to my loved ones and find overwhelming contentment and purpose by helping those I love. Recent familial changes have reset my life’s priorities, revealing how ephemeral and precious life and living are. To be a well-rounded person, I must be able to spend time with family as needed due to reasons outside my or their control, necessitating more flexibility over my work schedule than is typical in this profession. All these attributes (and so many more) make me ME. I am still Maranda Elswick, DVM, but I am also the first part of that name – the part before the comma – and I am choosing to continue to do veterinary medicine my way… by incorporating more of myself into my title and creating my own life’s path of how I can continue to help animals, people, and myself. And it starts now.

The best way to predict the future is to invent it. -Alan Kay

Maranda Elswick, DVM