Yesterday was my last shift as a Vet Tech for the foreseeable future.

Naturally, I have many feelings about leaving veterinary medicine behind as I reach a crossroads with my life and career path. I want to say that I'm leaving with more positive take aways than negative ones, but I also want to be honest with myself and with all of you about my experience working with and around animals and what it has meant for me for the last five years. There's a lot to unpack, so I hope those of you that bother to read this take away something from what I have to say.

True to form, it's written as a resignation letter:

(Please be warned that there is a lot of talk about my particular struggle with mental health, continue reading at your own risk).

 (Alternative Title: A Breakup Letter to a Childhood Dream).

 To Whom it May Concern,

 I want to start by saying there is no question that my relationship with animals has been one of the most rewarding parts of my life. For the last almost thirty years, I have gained so much happiness as a result of the unconditional love of companion animals. I have experienced unparalleled joy while laughing at the curiosity and mischief of my pets (alongside my loved ones), made new friends for life through my work (from Petco to Banfield and beyond), touched teeth with wolves (three times!), and even found a life partner who is currently helping me raise a puppy (and formerly, five ferrets).

 I have also felt the presence of my pets when I felt alone and worthless, and yet still never once doubted that if I ever had to leave and come home (no matter how long the absence) that they would be waiting for me. I have held onto their unconditional love as my lifeline during periods where I struggled to maintain a positive self image throughout dealing with abandonment, bullying, fatphobia, ableism, sexual assault, and more.

 It is because I have felt their struggle when they were sick or injured (as though it were my own), and admired their perseverance to find and accept love even when they had no reason to trust (maybe they had been abandoned, multiple times, or abused, neglected, or simply left to die without a shred of human compassion) that I have come through the other side of so many moments of absolute despair that I thought I would never see the end of. I have even drawn inspiration from them for my art and writing, after seeing so much of my own humanity and shared experiences within them.

 As someone who has had lifelong struggles with their mental health, these were all invaluable lessons for me. Even now during these uncertain times, there are days where the only thing keeping me from losing it is knowing that my pets love me.

 I know this is not a unique experience among those in the veterinary field.

 It's safe to say that there's more to it than just the aforementioned affection one has for animals when it comes to people who choose to do this as a profession. I would call it passion, but that word doesn't fully encapsulate the hard work that I see the people in this field put in every single damn day. Whatever their motivations are, they're there consistently, working a thankless, low paying (often exploitative) job that is notoriously hard on the body, mind, and spirit (not that there aren't wonderful things about the field, but I will get to those later).

 It comes as no surprise then, that this field has one of the highest rates of suicide in the country.

 Veterinary medicine made me hate myself in ways I didn't think possible. While all areas of medicine tend to have a poor work-life balance associated with them, I find it hard to believe that there are many more difficult jobs than being a veterinary technician. The national average per year for veterinary technicians is around $34k. In California, the wages are a little better, with the median being around $42k. If you are licensed, your prospects are a little bit better, however, you'll be lucky if you make it past 5 years, as almost half of all techs choose a new career path before then. The lack of respect from management, clients, and sometimes even doctors. alongside the low wages would be enough to make anyone turn around and run, but for the people that don't, it feels like an abusive relationship.

 Needless to say, this field is not kind to people with disabilities (or towards anyone that has any self respect and sets boundaries about how much they want to work). As a result, I struggled to maintain 35 hours, let alone 40 or more. Many of my associates were (and still are) pulling overtime due to the challenges of medicine, inadequate staffing, and exploitative labor practices. This, coupled with almost ZERO healthcare support (what we were offered was criminally overpriced and/or had aggressive copayments and fees attached), disorganized and toxic management practices, and compassion fatigue lead me to seeing the inside of several clinics in the hope of finding a better job.

 This experience was not unique to one particular hospital, both private and corporate: the problems are so widespread in this field that it is simply accepted that "this is how it is." But stubborn as ever, I continued to try and find a place to hone my skills (so I could be a good tech and save animals, my lifelong dream since I was a child), but it was always an uphill battle.

 Allow me to outline a few different experiences for you:

 1. I have had two different managers addicted to controlled drugs that they were stealing from the hospital lock box. This made them intolerable to work with. One of them gaslit me into thinking I wasn't 'trying hard enough' to the point that I had to call a crisis hotline during a lunch break. I quit after that shift without another job lined up.

 2. The best hospital I ever worked with also had a handful of... not so great folks. There is a very petty culture of talking behind others backs and favoritism amongst the doctors and senior staff. There were multiple times where I knew I was switched off of a team or taken out of training or off the surgery team for the day because I wasn't who they 'wanted to work with that day.' This often led to me being the custodian instead of doing what I was trained to do.

 3. Wage theft. Lots of it. For legal purposes I won't get into the details.

 4. The one time I was ever given a raise, it was for a measly fifty cents. I was told not to look too happy walking out of my manager's office because they hadn't given everyone a raise that quarter. After speaking with the other staff, I knew they were lying to my face.

 5. Ableism. I suffered a workplace injury that resulted in a slipped and torn disc. The owners of the hospital gave me a write up about inadequate work performance a couple weeks after the incident, claiming that it was about my skill (and not about being in chronic debilitating pain 24/7). They threatened to terminate me if I didn't improve. I considered legal action, but ultimately was too drained at this point to continue. This sadly left me with feelings of inadequacy as I moved into my next job (where I was one of the only staff, so although I was given a chance to prove my skills and felt respected for the short while I was there, I was constantly exhausted and in pain).

 6. Clients (in general). I have been threatened, harassed, and brought to tears by the level of callous, nasty behavior from pet owners. Here's a short list of incidents off the top of my head: there was once an owner that threatened to come shoot up the hospital. Another threatened to leave a bomb; blatant sexual harassment towards me and my female coworkers, and sexism in general (despite being a predominantly female dominated field).

I've lost count of the times a client has made someone cry, myself included, just by being mean / accusatory, with zero follow up from management; Countless cases of neglect/abuse. Some people have the audacity to blame us when we point it out.

Consistently being told we're greedy for not being able to provide cheap or free services (even when discounts are applied - often out of the doctor's pocket - and we've bent over backwards to try and accommodate their pet on a full schedule).

Honestly, just go check out @Bad Day Book Cartoons on Facebook, (illustrated stories by one of my co-workers - it'll give you a laugh or two).

 At the point where I finally decided I'd had enough of this field, I felt completely lost about what I wanted to do next. Animals have been my one true love since I could talk. It's hard to go from a idealistic child wanting to become a veterinarian, to settling for vet tech due to the competitive grades I never pulled (alongside the costly nature of the education I would need), to not even wanting an RVT license (because there's almost no incentive to get one), to FINALLY realizing that the problem is within the field and not with me.

 Coming to terms with giving up the dream has not been easy. This exit coincides with a part of my life where I am also learning how to manage and cope with parts of my past that I have never dealt with before. My priorities have changed. I want to become the best version of myself that I can be, and I can't do that in veterinary medicine. Do I think this is the ultimate end to my work with animals? No, absolutely not. Animals will always serve an important role in my life. I may even try to pick up a relief shift here and there, because although the benefits of working in the field are severely impacted by its shortcomings, I will miss it every day I'm not doing it.

 I will miss the people (the good ones, who I'm writing this for) who mentored me, encouraged me, and pushed me to be a better animal nurse. I will miss laughing about the ridiculous clients who throw fits over the most petty things. I will miss the inside jokes about our collective suffering (even when it was only about the most minor inconveniences).

 I'll miss the work, too. Particularly the unpredictable nature of medicine and the fact that no day felt the same, as well as the high ceiling of new things to learn. I'll miss everything from scaling the teeth of a cat with nasty dental calculus, to vaccine appointments for all the covid puppies, to soft tissue surgeries, to routine check ups (I don't think I'll miss all the animal poop, ear cleanings, or nail trims though).

 I'll miss the animals most of all. Even the fractious cats and gremlin Chihuahuas.

 But more importantly:

 I'm done with holding myself to unrealistic expectations (at the cost of my health and wellness). I'm done trying to prove that I'm "good enough" to myself (at all things, but especially about this). I KNOW I changed the lives of at least one animal and their family for the better (and yes, I know it's been many more than just one, too). I am good vet tech. I always put the animals and my coworkers first, and I'm proud of my successes. I'm glad I never stopped fighting to learn more and challenge myself even when I wanted to quit, because I'm a better person for it.

 And you know what? The industry is worse off without me. Consider this a formal fuck you to everyone who said I couldn't do it, because I DID do it. Well. And I'm pretty fucking proud of myself for that.

 I can't say that it's been wasted time, but I can't say I'm without regrets, either.

 So here's to childhood dreams, mental clarity, and hoping that quitting something is just the door to a new opportunity.

 Consider this my two weeks.

 [Spongebob "Aight, I'm Gonna Head Out" JPG]

 SR,

Veterinary Assistant.