My weekend in Corvallis, Oregon, this past fall was much different than my prior visit. The Oregon State University campus was open, albeit masked. Kids were walking around. Restaurants were busy. And third-year veterinary students were in a panic about their first neuter surgery and thinking about what to do during their fourth year.
This time, the attitudes were much more positive because of the live lectures and labs. What a difference a three-dimensional face makes compared with a Zoom face. While I visited with my daughter Brooke and her classmates, the issues I perceived were more about internships, senior experiences and “What should my resume look like?”
I had a chance to watch the third years prepare for their junior surgery class. Groups of three students were responsible for the intake and admission of a patient, including the physical examination, preanesthetic blood testing and determination of the medications needed for anesthesia and pain management. Each student was assigned a role: surgeon, assistant or anesthetist. It was wonderful to see the cooperation and support among classmates as not everyone had had a chance to scrub in on a surgery. Those with large animal backgrounds were faced with the huge size difference between a horse’s jugular vein and a dog’s saphenous vein. The teamwork I saw bodes well for a profession where collaboration is essential.
Brooke was the anesthetist for this surgery, so we spent our dinner talking about the drugs to be used and the suggested dosages. Converting pounds to kilograms and milligrams per milliliter to the total dosage are skills the students will use every day as veterinarians. I introduced Brooke to the Plumb’s Veterinary Drugs app, a resource so helpful in calculating dosages and understanding the effects and potential side effects. Brooke asked why she wasn’t aware of the app previously.
The third years’ schedule included not only a Monday surgery but also a Monday surgery test. At Brooke’s apartment, her roommates and friends brainstormed orthopedic surgery information. It looked like the TV show “House” as one student used a whiteboard to jot down ideas and thoughts. The fun for me came in asking them where they saw themselves after veterinary school and the paths they needed to take to get there. Internships and residencies for board certification were on the minds of some. For others, it was finding the perfect first job.
Side Trips
On my visits to Corvallis, I try to meet with the dean, Dr. Susan Tornquist, to learn how things are going with the school and the issues that all DVM programs deal with these days: COVID safety, the job market, student stress and mental wellness. I find Dr. Tornquist very tuned into her students and actively engaged in her administrative roles and as a primary educator in pathology.
Another reason to visit campus was to provide a lunch and learn for the Veterinary Business Management Association, usually the second-largest veterinary club on campus after the student chapter of the American Veterinary Medical Association. My presentation on resumes allowed students to put one together and then have about 10 dissected by me in front of everyone. As I was teaching, Brooke was delivering anesthesia to her surgery patient. She had heard the resume talk enough times.
Studying for the Future
On Sunday morning, Brooke and I found a coffee shop with free Wi-Fi and hunkered down for four hours while she studied for her surgery exam. Her focus and commitment while people came in and out of the café were amazing to watch. Her AirPod Pros in place, colored pens and pencils nearby, and iPad propped up, Brooke acted as if nothing else was going on except surgery. The experience brought back fond and not-so-fond memories for me.
Brooke’s third year underway, our conversations frequently turned to her future. She spent last summer working for the Oregon Coast Aquarium and dedicated time to helping at the Large Animal Clinic, doing a research project and volunteering at an animal shelter. The question I ask all veterinary students is, “What do you want to do next?” Brooke’s standard reply is, “I don’t know.”
“I really like the aquarium,” she told me, “but Sea World would be so hard to get a job with. Shelter work is fun, and I enjoy giving back to the community, but it doesn’t pay very well, does it? I guess it will be private practice somewhere.”
I asked about small ruminants because she expressed an interest in that realm. “Oh, yeah, them, too,” Brooke responded.
One Year at a Time
The first- through fourth-year veterinary students I engaged with, and an intern from Orange County, California, whose parents I know, were all so happy to be back in some level of normal education. The masked faces in the hallways and classrooms showed everyone’s great respect for safety. No one wants to be locked down again and forced to live in the two-dimensional world of Zoom.
Anxiety was evident among the first years as they fought through anatomy. The second years possessed a sense of hope after spending their entire first year under quarantine. Brooke and her third-year classmates saw the end of the tunnel. As Brooke told me, a veterinary career seems much more realistic the first time a student makes a nerve-wracking incision.
In the weeks since my visit, Brooke learned about Giardia in her dog and how to deal with a disease that is zoonotic and frequently recurrent. I get a kick offering telemedicine to my daughter as she looks to validate her diagnostic thoughts and treatment plans. And as a parent, I am rewarded when watching the growth and maturity of my future colleague.
STORY ARCHIVE
Dr. Peter Weinstein documented his daughter Brooke’s veterinary school journey in previous issues. Readers can catch up with:
- “My Daughter, the Veterinary Student,” bit.ly/Brooke1-TVB
- “An Unforgettable Freshman Year,” bit.ly/Brooke2-TVB
- “Creating Virtual Virtuosos,” bit.ly/Brooke3-TVB