No one deserves clients who process their cat’s diabetes diagnosis by confiding in Google Reviews about their veterinarian’s cold-hearted avarice. However, it happens, and so do waiting room altercations arising because Bella got weighed before Buster or intra-team acrimony because Tech A thought Tech B should have cleaned Room 3. Our brains were not meant for such forms of indiscriminate harassment, but it happens inexplicably. No one ever said veterinary medicine was immune to humanity’s most vexatious idiosyncrasies. While most bad days in practice culminate in emotional hangovers that demand home-based remedies like adorable toddler escapades, frolicking animal adventures, and restorative spousal communion over home-cooked meals, that is not always the way it goes. Some of us end our worst days loitering in local watering hole parking lots, wondering whether ignition key insertion might be the absolute worst way to end a bad day. Not all days are quite so unsatisfactory, of course. While admittedly less common and unquestionably less talked about, some of our very best days outshine the worst with fluffy pink clouds of well-earned “best-doctor-ever” exhilaration. For most of us, these days are fortifying enough to eclipse the most obnoxious ones. But this column is not about the average crappy day. This one is about the really bad ones; those that make you wonder whether you should have ran screaming from the auditorium, where they made you wear a wonky hat before handing you a diploma you spent 25 years and hundreds of thousands of dollars—all for the privilege of enduring days like the one you just barely survived. If your career has gone anything like mine has, your devastating days will hopefully be few enough to count on the fingers of one hand. For most of us, these are those when we unexpectedly lost patients on the table, endured a violent animal attack, or were told our skills would never meet anyone’s minimum standards. IMAGE GENERATED BY CHATGPT/DALL·E, OPENAI My most calamitous days in practice are pretty much along the same lines. In retrospect, however, these devastating blows were not so much about the events themselves, but rather how I reacted to them. After all, we will all lose patients unexpectedly, endure painful acts of pet-on-vet violence, and be subjected to all sorts of human-related abuse. As always, it is how we handle these horrible events that make bad days the absolute worst, underscoring the undeniable truism: we truly are our own worst enemies. So, in the interest of oversharing—with your welfare in mind, of course—here are five of my most momentously abominable moments in my 30 years of service to our profession: 1) Gracelessness under pressure Piercing ear pain is nothing to trifle with, but when you are on an overnight shift with no help on the horizon, we have a tendency to force ourselves to muddle through. (Ego is a powerful motivator, right?) That is, until you lose your composure during what should have been a simple—if annoying—client interaction. Which is when I abandoned my shift without telling a soul and drove myself home without so much as a look in the rearview mirror. I lost that early career job, of course, but, more than that, I lost my self-respect … and will never live that day down. 2) Baby vet’s very first mauling In my defense, I was inexperienced, overconfident, and very, very stupid. I got myself pinned into the corner of a cage by a dog that was recovering from sedation. One minute it was comatose, the next, it was on top of my head trying its hardest to relocate my hairline. The thing I remember the most was the ambulance ride. I bawled the whole way. The mortification was the worst part. 3) The worst kind of patient misadventure I don’t think I have ever been more miserable over a patient (deaths included) than when a post-op cystotomy cattle dog got through three doors overnight (including a uniquely designed security door that required two hands to unlock) and took off into 4 a.m. Miami traffic, losing its Chinese finger-trapped catheter (along with some skin) as it made its escape. Alarms were triggered, and a neighborhood-wide dog hunt ensued. Along with the dog, several humans were almost hit by cars in the process. It was a nightmare. The dog was finally located eight hours later. It was, without a doubt, my worst day in the past 10 years of my life. 4) The license complaint The day I received a note from the Board letting me know a client had lodged a complaint hit me really hard. It got resolved, but it took more than a year. Many tearful, sleepless nights ensued over the injustice of it all, but here is what I learned: Don’t lose sleep over unfairness or fear. Things always work out in the end. 5) The unintended intervention I had gone to see a new therapist to express concern about my increasing reliance on alcohol to cope with divorce, work stress, life, etc. She unilaterally decided it might be best for everyone if she called a group responsible for helping impaired physicians. The very next day, I received a call informing me I had been involuntarily remanded to a 30-day drug and alcohol rehabilitation program lest the licensing board be informed of my addiction. As the single parent of a toddler, I was not exactly in the best financial position to handle that kind of news, but as they say, what doesn’t kill you … Some days are worse than others. The last one was especially devastating, but after these, I have learned I can handle almost anything practice has to offer. I’m also aware I’m now in the unenviable position to offer advice on how to handle the very worst days in practice. Here are some simple tips I’ve gathered along the way: Ask yourself the question: “Will you remember this day in a week? A month? A year?” If not…just let it go. This trick works 90 percent of the time. If not… Call a loved one you have not reached out to in a while. You need a fresh POV, so do not wimp out and call your go-to bro whose canned advice you have come to expect. Then, talk it out. This will usually give you the perspective you desperately need Plan a getaway. Fast. Call in a mental health day and don’t take “no” for an answer. If it is a truly horrible, career-defining moment, then book a trip. Immediately. Nothing is so bad you cannot run away from it for a few days while you get help. Work will wait. Sometimes it has to. Always remember: Your feelings are not final. How you feel right now is not how you will feel in 24 hours … a week … a month … a year. Tell yourself that and believe it. If you do not believe it at the moment, at least believe someone else does and that you might eventually get there too. By now, you have probably experienced at least one truly horrific day … and you managed, right? If you are even in need of a helping hand and a shoulder to cry on, help is to be had. Never forgo the help of a colleague, friend, family member or professional (my experience notwithstanding). Nothing is ever so bad it can’t be managed. Patty Khuly, VMD, MBA, runs a small animal practice in Miami, Fla., and is available at drpattykhuly.com. Columnists' opinions do not necessarily reflect those of Veterinary Practice News.
