Kristina Kiefer

Colleagues: do you remember taking the veterinary oath? Can you remember what you swore? Veterinary students: have you looked ahead, and read the oath? You are committed to the long road, which commits you to taking this oath. What does it mean to you when you say “I solemnly swear that I will use my scientific knowledge and skills for the benefit of society. I will strive to promote animal health and welfare.”?

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 I don’t know about you, but I envisioned puppies and kitties, frolicking, decidedly free of rabies and distemper, with the occasional intervention on my part to help maintain the frolicking. And the occasional hobby farm animal that I trimmed horns or hoofs on, or some other such romantic, Herriot-like scene. 

I don’t know about you, but I missed a major point I should have recognized. Based on our stats for suicide risk and burn out, I’d hazard a guess that most of you missed this particular point as well. Read it again: “I will strive to promote animal health and welfare.” How are you doing on that front? My guess is you are working pretty stinking hard to make that happen. However, I have a gentle critique here. I’ll hazard a guess you’ve missed one of the most important animals in your responsibility. Whoa there, kiddo. Stop flagellating yourself over how long your dog had to wait to go potty because you didn’t get a moment to breathe all morning. No castigating yourself because you’ve spent more time at work with someone else’s pets, than with your own cat. You’ve entirely missed the point! And yet, therein, lies my point. When I tell you that you’ve failed the most important animal in your life, you will start to panic, because you can come up with a long list of possible failures. And you just keep feeling worse about yourself. Punishing yourself. Ignoring and/or abusing your most important animal! 

Since when has your precious soul been excused from the animal kingdom? You swore. You promised to promote your health and welfare. I’ll ask you again: How are you doing on that front? Think I’m stretching this a bit too far? What about the part where you solemnly swore “I will use my scientific knowledge and skills for the benefit of society”? You know how important nutrition, prevention, enrichment, relationships, love and companionship are to your patients. Your education and knowledge is a necessary part of their welfare. Your welfare is the building block of their welfare! 

If you’re anything like me, you’ve been trained to be a savior. Save the animals. Save the practice. Save the office work environment. Save your personal relationships. Save all the things. The system has used your empathy and compassion and given you the warped perception that you are a savior. 

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You have completely forgotten that you began this journey with the heart of a healer. What difference does it make?  A savior is expected to be perfect. A savior is responsible for the outcome, and a savior that fails, is no savior at all. How can we live with ourselves if we put those expectations on our shoulders? Painful point: We aren’t. We are losing left and right. Lives, professions, careers.

We. Are. Not. Saviors. We need to be practicing as healers. We need to be teaching our students to be healers.

Healer: Something that alleviates a person’s/animal’s distress or anguish.

Healer: A person or thing that mends or repairs something.

Think you can do that? You do. Every single day. And the expectation for perfection seems comfortably missing, doesn’t it? 

I’m not intending to simplify the problems that place veterinarians at risk for suicide or burnout, but I believe this mindset is a very large component attributing to our risks. 

I was reading a book to learn how to better communicate feedback, and the authors referred to “fixed versus growth” mindsets. A table, summarizing the differences was included (see below), and as I studied it, I was ‘fixed’ (pun intended) on the fixed mindset. The column of Fixed Mindset reeked of the veterinary profession. Particularly, fresh from the trenches of veterinary students! 

I sat in shocked silence, as I realized this is a monster we’ve created! When I applied to vet school, nothing less than perfect on all fronts was a gamble for a letter of acceptance. And this is the mindset pre-veterinary students are conditioned to achieve. Our entire college education, and frequently even before: perfect is the art of the game. Perfect is the standard. YEARS of conditioning. And then we show up on that first day of vet school. That conditioning we learned in our earliest years as scholars blends right into our practice. Never failing an exam becomes never failing our patients. Being the best student we can possibly be becomes being the best doctor we could possibly be. Finding favor with our instructors and mentors becomes finding favor with our clients and colleagues. If we can’t do this, we aren’t succeeding. We aren’t “good enough”. 

How many of the fixed mindset traits do you identify with? What would your day to day practice and well-being look like, if you could shift to the growth mindset? I’m waging a bet here: I’d bet we would lose a lot less colleagues, if we put the time and effort to actively change our conditioning. We need to teach our veterinary students to approach their education and career with a growth mindset. We need to teach ourselves to do the same. As a profession, let’s kill the savior mentality, and grow into a sustainable and joyful profession. Let’s be healers. Heal our patients. Ourselves. And our profession. 

Sincerely, 

Kristina Kiefer, DVM, PhD, CCRP, DACVSMR Healer