While Christmas is, on the whole, a joyous time of year, for vets it can be quite the opposite.
Besides the expected chocolate poisonings and other festive fiends, we also get what some vets may refer to as the “Christmas clear-out”. For those who haven’t twigged, this is the inevitable increase in euthanasias at this time of year.
It is possible the cold and damp winter weather brings out the very worst of our pets’ ailments; therefore, contributing to the somewhat exaggerated number of consults labelled “PTS?” around this time.
However, I suspect many owners try to hold on to their animals with ongoing chronic illnesses for one final Christmas, resulting in us seeing more pets plagued with very end-stage illnesses before the dreaded holiday.
Alternatively, having held on to their beloved for one last family gathering, Boxing Day and the following days turn into a seemingly endless stream of owners bidding their final farewells, leaving vets feeling Grim Reaper-esque.
Sympathetic approach
All vets will have heard owners, friends and family say “I couldn’t do it, it must be the worst part of the job” hundreds of times.
I usually politely agree and explain, when the decision is made, it’s often in the best interests of the animal and we should be grateful we have the option to end their suffering before it becomes too much. This is how we justify it to ourselves.
To be honest, I generally used to maintain quite an emotionless exterior and didn’t dwell too much on euthanasia. I tell myself if I did let it get to me, I wouldn’t be able to do it.
Don’t get me wrong, I try my utmost to show empathy to clients, and offer them words of comfort through the decision-making process and when the time comes.
But I often feel myself slipping into automatic pilot, giving the spiel about gasping, the possibility the pet can mess itself and that it’s an overdose of anaesthetic – my tone of voice changes and I have a sympathetic smile reserved for these consultations.
Caught off guard
Many vets and nurses can be quite blasé about it, with comments such as being the “angel of death” when you’ve had to do a few in a row. It doesn’t mean they’re disrespectful, it’s just another coping mechanism.
Again, if we took it to heart too much, we wouldn’t be able to do it either.
Suddenly, one will catch you off guard. I don’t know whether it was the case in particular or it just tipped me over the edge, but I recently had a spate of euthanasias. This particular cat was the seventh PTS I had done in less than a week. As a mixed vet, this is a lot more than usual for me.
I was composed during the consultation, all went smoothly and I didn’t feel too much at the time other than sympathy for the family and annoyance at the injustice of such lovely owners being faced with very sudden deterioration of their beloved pet, leaving them with no other option than to euthanise.
Later that evening, at home, I sobbed. I wept for that family, the other families and animals that week, and my own animals I had lost over the years.
Take care of colleagues
My heart sank when I saw a home visit PTS booked in for me the next morning: number eight. But you pick yourself up and get on with it, because you have to. You have to be strong for the distraught owners, and all you can do is try to give the pet the most peaceful death you can.
When I mentioned how many euthanasias I’d had that week to a colleague, the response was a sigh and “yep, the start of the Christmas clear-out”.
Normally that would probably be my kind of response, too, and I felt unable to express the deep-rooted sadness that had taken hold of me so suddenly over an act I must have done hundreds of times before.
Luckily, I was able to vent to non-vet and vet friends in other practices, which helped me a lot that week.
We’re always talking about mental health in the profession, but how well are we actually looking out for each other on a day-to-day basis? This Christmas period, take extra care to ask your colleagues if they’re okay, and look after each other.
Leave a Reply