To say this has been a long time coming is an understatement. I’ve delayed writing about this in an effort to do it justice, but I’m not sure the full weight of veterinary depression and suicide can ever be portrayed. I only know that something has to change.
Veterinarians have carried the torch for the highest rates of suicide and depression for several years. The CDC released results from a study in 2018 that spanned a 36-year period showing these rates to exceed 2 and 3 times the general population. While most people are unaware such an endemic exists, others respond with “I thought dentists held that title??” as if to discount the messenger and the data in one fell swoop… And that’s part of the problem.
Society turns a blind eye to any sort of psychological condition as is, without having to swallow that the career of fluffy kittens and rainbows is suffering from something as dire as suicide. Admittedly, it is difficult for people to understand how such a seemingly rewarding career can have this dark underbelly, but make no mistake, it exists.
I wouldn’t profess to understand or even know all of the issues contributing to this issue, BUT as someone in the industry for decades, I’ve seen and experienced enough to have a handle on the broad strokes, so here goes…
- We have astronomical student loans compared to income. That’s obviously not to say all of us. Some have no student loan debt. Some make considerable income. Overall though, the numbers don’t lie. Comparing our income to other professions with doctoral education and training, we fall far below on average.
- We generally do not have the benefits of other professions. A large portion of practicing doctors are still in relatively small practices that do not offer substantial or even decent benefit packages. This includes anything from CE reimbursements to vacation to sick or maternity leave. Many do not even offer health and disability insurance which is insane. Pensions are nonexistent and 401k’s are limited.
- We take very little time off, and I mean astronomically small amounts. Maybe small amounts of PTO are offered. Maybe one is a practice owner without the support to leave. Maybe one can’t take the time because of mounting student loan debt and bills.
- Because we are a cash pay industry, clients take their emotional frustration (due to their financial limitations) out on us in the form of blame and shame. When they can’t afford treatment, it becomes misconstrued as our faults, the “greedy veterinarians.” We are then met with emotional blackmail, and if we do what is right, said client will make sure we pay for it in the form of terrible/negative Google and Yelp reviews. This type of client often berates staff, even resorting to throwing temper tantrums in the clinic. Unfortunately, this is a mild example of forms of abuse that occur. Board complaints and lawsuits are more extreme measures.
- We euthanize animals. Further explanation isn’t warranted on this one, so just let that set in for a bit. The patients we try desperately to save are also those we sometimes have to put to death. That wears on one’s psyche.
- We are not always allowed to practice the best medicine. In human healthcare, there are options because of insurance and government programs. In veterinary medicine, most patients still have no insurance. Thus, we basically become used car salesmen wheeling and dealing to offer the best care possible within the clients’ means. What’s worse is that clients usually expect cutting-edge medicine based on what they experience or perceive in their own care. The disconnect lies in the aforementioned clients never actually reviewing their explanation of benefits from their insurance company that reveal what their care actually costs. We charge a fraction (far less than 50%) of human healthcare for the same treatment.
- Our patients don’t talk. While some may find this a plus, the flip side of that coin is that there is a human dictating care that may or may not have the patient’s best interest and may or may not understand the patient very well, if at all. That person pays the bill. In addition, we have to be extremely observant and intuitive to diagnose our patients because they obviously can not verbalize their ailments.
- By and large, we are internalizers, not to be confused with introverts. For example, I internalize quite a bit, but I’m also an extrovert. It means that we are frequently very self-reflective, very perceptive, and very sensitive people with a deep need for connection. Instead of acting out our feelings, we turn inward and don’t ask for what we really need—to the point of self-sacrificing.
This list is by no means exhaustive and only scratches the surface of the problem. We are also not alone in that other health care professionals have high rates of depression as well. Compassion fatigue has been highlighted in the past two years because of COVID, but compassion fatigue is only a tiny part of what is ailing us.
For centuries a great many artistic and intellectual types have held a reputation as depressives or “tortured artists.” Most are also internalizers. The difference is that it is accepted because people respect and appreciate the art and minds of those that reach infamy or celebrity. In contrast, veterinarians have been left by the wayside to fend for themselves for the most part. Anyone that thinks they should not care about this, think again. We are involved in just about every human’s life, whether they know it or not…
- We treat your pets and livestock.
- We keep your food chain safe.
- We are researchers in medicine and every science imaginable.
- We are experts in bioterrorism (most biowarfare agent vectors are animals) and infectious disease.
- We are wildlife experts.
We are involved in so many aspects of our world and what we do is selfless. It is time for the world to recognize this and give the support we so desperately need.