14 Apr 2020
In a new column for Vet Times, Nat Scroggie describes well-being in the context of a toolkit – a visit bag of skills, strategies and habits you can pull out in a time of need – and asks: “Has there ever been a greater need for such a bag than during a global pandemic?”
Nat Scroggie
Job Title
Image: ivan / Adobe Stock
This column has been in the pipeline for a while, albeit in a very different context. It was intended as a monthly opinion piece focusing on well-being from the perspective of an everyday vet in practice.
The first few pieces were submitted just four weeks previously – otherwise known as a lifetime ago, or before coronavirus.
For a subject that should be universal, there is no doubt they are woefully out of date. They were written for a different world; a world where we could leave home at will, and examine our patients with our hands and not our phones.
Yet the ethos behind them could not be more relevant. You may have heard well-being discussed in the context of a toolkit – a visit bag of skills, strategies and habits you can pull out in a time of need.
Has there ever been a greater need for such a bag than during a global pandemic? Probably not.
So, while the original pieces have been archived for now (alongside my wedding plans), this will still be a column about the quest for well-being in the everyday. The everyday is just a little bit different.
So far, I have felt a little out of sync with my friends and family as they share their experiences of lockdown. As a locum vet, life has been somewhat of a roller coaster. Work has been booked, cancelled, then new work booked and subsequently cancelled, before being booked again as more in our profession find themselves self-isolating.
The past fortnight has been a blur. We may have been cutting routine work back further and further each day, but I have never felt so drained. I have visited four practices – all of which interpreted the initial guidance differently.
In each one I have felt differently about the level of input I can have as just a locum vet.
This week there is no doubt we are united in our approach as, nationwide, we lock our doors and turn away all but the most urgent cases.
Not so long ago I swore an oath that “above all, my constant endeavour will be to ensure the health and welfare of animals committed to my care”.
Now, the message is clear: human health must come first. For the first time, I’ve been forced to question my own ethical compass on where I place animal health in relation to human health. I never expected to have to make a choice.
I have always treated my furry patients with the compassion and care I would expect any member of my family to receive. Now, I feel unsure whether I should be using personal protective equipment that could be needed in our hospitals. Each telephone call brings a new ethical dilemma.
The heavy fog of exhaustion has been at odds with a state of constant high alert. Amid this, I have found little headspace for the precious pieces of self-care I talk about so often. I have been too tired to run; too glued to the news to tear myself away for something as peaceful as yoga. Quite simply, it has all just felt a little trivial in the face of global distress.
But the dust has started to settle on a new normal. A normal in which well-being is no longer a buzzword or a box to tick, but a question of survival. It has never been more important to take care of ourselves and others.
So, writing this diary will be my accountability to that. No textbook exists on staying sane while a deadly virus sweeps the globe, but I will endeavour to share my attempt as honestly as I can.
A month ago I was writing from a different planet. Today, I am almost certainly writing to you from the static before the storm. While I am scared of what this means, I could not feel prouder to be part of a profession that has already pulled together so incredibly. Stay well.
