I confess: I’m an ardent fan of the Vet Confessionals Project

I confess: I’m an ardent fan of the Vet Confessionals Project

Veterinarians’, team members’ secrets are too good not to share.
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Jun 01, 2015

My first exposure to the Veterinary Confessionals Project was at NAVC this year. I was attending a swanky industry reception, glass of wine in hand, when my boss handed me her phone to check out the pictures she’d snapped at the Vet Confessionals exhibit earlier that day.

I was not prepared.

When I read the first one, my eyes flooded with tears that spilled over—and kept spilling over, to my chagrin—to the point that I had to find a dark, quiet corner and hunker down until I’d regained my composure.

Such is the power of a confession. The card I read is pictured below, and it brought back with extreme force my own last moments with my pet during her euthanasia with a kind and compassionate veterinarian. Along with the hole in my heart that’s still there even years after she’s been gone.

I couldn’t read anymore cards that night (I think my coworkers were actually a little concerned about me), but when the dvm360 team got involved in the project, I eventually had the opportunity to read every single card submitted to the Vet Confessionals folks. And I did. Every. Single. Card.

Some made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt. Many were poignant and sad, even heartbreaking. All were incise microcommentaries on what it’s like to be a veterinary professional today—even the parts no one will publicly admit to.

We promoted this project a bit in last month’s Burden of Care coverage focusing on the emotional toll associated with working in this profession, but it was too good not to include in this issue of dvm360. I hope you’ll enjoy it at least half as much as I have—tears and all.