28 Oct 2021
RVN Lacey Pitcher reflects on what she has learned in terms of medicine and humanity, and what she wishes she would have known when she started out, and pays tribute to the support her “vet family” has afforded her during a decade on the front line.
Lacey Pitcher
Job Title
This article was written three years ago and recently resurfaced. I’m one of those people who firmly believe in “what’s meant for you will find you” – make of that what you will.
When asked if I’d like to see it published, I really had to think hard, but in the wish for transparency, I took a gulp, re-read it, made a coffee, and sat down at a laptop to overhaul and bring it up to date. I decided that what I felt here is still very much me.
You will also get a header and footer. Though to some, the end of this article may be triggering, please know, we are never alone.
In 2019, I marked my 10th anniversary in practice. Reaching that milestone made me reflect on how things have changed during that decade, the things I’ve learned and, indeed, the times I was wrong.
A constant and repetitive theme throughout has been mental health and wellness, which makes me sad and proud in equal measures.
My route through training wasn’t easy by any means, and I now appreciate how far I’ve come and the challenges I’ve faced – because, quite honestly, they shaped the nurse and person I am today.
I’ve been lucky enough to work in some phenomenal practices, as well as some not so good, but for various reasons. Some I just wasn’t compatible with, others victimised due to my health and some were just naive as to how much staff really needed a bit of help. Which brings me on to the things I’ve learned and the things I wish I could have said:
My own personal endeavour – Veterinary Pay It Forward (VPIF) – is an initiative that sends anonymous care packages all over the UK to spread a little kindness within the veterinary profession; to give fellow RVNs and veterinary professionals the feeling of being appreciated.
There are many times we walk away from our job and feel like the effort we put in is not noticed – particularly if we deal with difficult clients. We feel that they do not understand what we have to face, whether it be miscommunication or just pure ignorance. VPIF aims to try to help people to understand that we are all in this together.
I have learned quite a lot over the years. Although much of that is medicine based, I’ve learned a great deal about humanity, too.
I’ve learned everyone is fighting their own battles and although sometimes we face adversity, there is a culture in practice like no other. We are one big unconventional family, and if we were all a little more open and a little more perceptive, we really can help those around us.
My vet family has carried me through severe medical illness, mental health battles, bereavement, homelessness and break-ups. To me, veterinary medicine isn’t simply a job sector – it’s a family and way of life.
This article was written three years ago – two weeks before a friend came to my home and picked me up off the bathroom floor. To the world I had looked like I was smiling. Resilient. Successful.
This article resurfaced by fluke under a completely different editor, who I have been lucky enough to work with a few times recently, who didn’t know my story, nor the journey I’ve been on. I have slowly and steadily clawed my way back from the metaphorical basement to the penthouse.
At one stage, two weeks after writing this initially, I no longer wanted to be here and very nearly wasn’t.
The lessons in this piece are still very true, but additionally I’d like to say this; this profession, made up of formidable people, has not only helped rebuild life with me, but has been there every step of the way to show me. I am totally okay embracing the ME I want to be. It is okay not to be perfect – perfection is the thief of joy.
Every person has a story, we just all have some chapters we may not want to read aloud.
Being strong doesn’t mean struggling on your own. Being strong is more about how we find our feet when getting up off that bathroom floor. This profession gave me a helping hand when I felt the world wasn’t for me anymore; now I want to pay the kindness back. Pay it forward.
And so three years on, this article found me again – sat in a coffee shop; writing a webinar for the BVNA; talking authentically as me; not needing to fit a mould; reflecting on all the things I’ve learned and all the experiences I have had, which I wouldn’t have had if three years ago I hadn’t been brave enough to say I am not okay.
