4 Apr 2018
“All the world’s a stage,” wrote Shakespeare – so Jordan Sinclair offers tips for new graduates to turn the consult room into their stage and win the trust of clients, despite lacking experience.
Jordan Sinclair
Job Title
Image © nito / Adobe Stock
As a new grad, no matter how much you are told not to worry, you can’t help being aware of what your clients, colleagues, boss, friends and family think of you – and, more specifically, your ability as a vet.
Having had a bit of a setback with my first job, I’m past caring what my friends and classmates think – or, rather, trying to compare myself to them. I just haven’t had the extra six months of cases or opportunities they’ve had, so I’m not going to have progressed as much as many of them.
Luckily, I have a supportive group of friends from university who I can ask stupid questions to, without fear of judgement.
What clients think, however, definitely plays on your mind, no matter how much you try not to let it. I’m newly qualified, and can feel it written all over my face, which is not helped by several clients a day saying: “I haven’t seen you before.”
In a practice where many of the vets have been there a long time, you stick out like a sore thumb as the newbie. I usually smile and reply “yes, I’m new to the area”, as if I need to clarify that when my plain midlands accent contrasts with the local northern dialect.
For long-term clients, I immediately stick out as an intruder, and it can be difficult taking on a case when you feel like a client is judging your every move because he or she has been coming to the practice for the past 10 years with his or her beloved animal.
You can make exactly the same call as any other vet in the practice, but because you’re the new one, they don’t trust you.
I once denied a client prescription wormers for the five other animals in their house because none of them (except the one on the consult table at the time) had been seen in two years and, despite explaining it was practice policy (and, ultimately, the law) that we have to see animals more recently than that to prescribe anything, and offering non-POM-V alternatives, the client rebooked with another vet, adamant another practitioner would provide what they wanted.
In that instance, I knew it was a legal fact we were disputing, and not my competence as a vet, but it certainly didn’t help the “imposter syndrome”.
Even for new clients who don’t know the practice or any of the vets, I still look like a new grad. When I look at photos from 10 years ago, I could be looking in the mirror.
Whether that means I looked old for 15, or still look like a teenager now, I’m not sure – probably somewhere between. Nevertheless, my appearance is another factor that automatically puts me on the back foot with clients. I evidently don’t look as experienced as my colleagues, and nothing (short of plastic surgery) can be done to change that.
However, on the whole, most clients are friendly, and genuinely want your help and advice – regardless of how young you may look. I used to be terrified of being stuck in a consult room, not having a clue what was wrong with the animal in front of me and feeling like an idiot in front of the client.
Having an armoury of treatment options for the most commonly seen ailments helps, but you cannot prepare for every eventuality. Even the most talented and experienced vets can’t possibly know everything, but the difference is they have the confidence to admit when they don’t know what’s wrong and formulate a plan, which the client generally accepts because if said experienced vet doesn’t know then it must be something obscure.
Having gotten back into the swing of consulting, I tried this approach – carefully worded so as to not sound too much like I just don’t have a clue what I’m doing: “Well, Fluffy isn’t giving me any clues from her clinical examination to suggest what’s causing this, but what we can do is treat her symptoms with X and if they don’t improve, look at XYZ tests.”
So far, this has generally been well received. As I type this, I can almost hear one of the vets I did a lot of EMS with saying: “Prognosis, not diagnosis. You don’t always need to know what’s wrong – you just need to have a plan and tell the client what you expect to change/improve with treatment; that is, a prognosis.”
Having a few useful phrases up your sleeve to assert your knowledge can help, too. For example: “In my experience, I’ve not come across a lump quite like this, so I’d have to talk to my colleagues regarding the best options.”
This will be entirely true, but insinuates years of looking at these lumps instead of the mere months you’ve had in practice.
“In my last job…” not only implies I have more experience than I do, but also confirms this is not my first job which emphasises the point. The client doesn’t need to know my last job consisted almost entirely of TB testing.
If you are in your first job, try just naming a location where you saw EMS or even went to unit.
“I saw a few of these in Scotland…” again, completely true, but implies you were working there previously, rather than still having been a student.
Someone once told me that a lot of the time you feel like you’re acting as a new grad – and now I know what they meant. Trying to slide those phrases into your consult isn’t about bending the truth – it’s about instilling the client with some confidence in you, and building trust.
Your performance in the consult room isn’t going to win any Oscars, but may win the trust of your clients.
Hiding your internal panic when everything that could possibly go wrong is doing just that is part of the art of veterinary medicine, likewise is giving an air of confidence when you feel like you’re just trying to survive as a new grad.
In the words of Shakespeare, “all the world’s a stage” – and the consult room is yours.
