Compassion Fatigue

Compassion fatigue is something that has been covered many times, and those in the medical/veterinary/social services and many others where you help people in shitty situations know all about it. Unless you have experienced it, though, it's pretty hard to convey in words. 

It seems like a first world problem, but it's a real thing.

Goodness knows I've experienced it many times since I've been in shelter care and now vet medicine. There's always a litter of kittens you can't help, a pregnant mom that needs to be spayed, a dog hit by a car that you can't save. It's the nature of our business, but we do what needs to be done for the times when we can save the kittens/dog/see mom go to a good home.

Thanks to us she will never be a mother. She will only be adorable.

A few nights ago I had a very real case of compassion fatigue suddenly hit me. I picked up an overnight at the animal ER where I work, which is hard enough as it is. As sad as it sounds, often we will try (and fail) to maintain some distance emotionally from our patients. We still give them the best care possible, but if you fall in love you make bad decisions and get, of course, fatigued.

I had been up for 12 hours with a two hour nap already before I started my 10 hour night at 9pm. It had been a long weekend already and I was feeling it. The ER side of our hospital was fairly slow, thank goodness, but ICU was hopping. After 3am I was all alone, and had just gotten word that a dog who had had surgery earlier in the day was not doing well and needed to go back in. She was set up on one of our open "pods" and getting transfusions until our surgeon came. But it wasn't even her that set me off.

This is pretty much how I was feeling by then.

What set me off was a little pug named Lola. She was old, diabetic, and adorable. Her blood sugar was high so she hadn't eaten in a while, but it finally came down enough that I could feed her. I found myself focusing all my energy on her. We had to lay her on her side to draw blood, something pugs don't like because they can't breathe well. The last time we drew blood she got a runny nose and started sniffling and sneezing. I wiped her nose, rubbed her face and was allowed to finally give her food, which she happily ate.

She was not even close to the sickest animal in the ICU, but I could see that she didn't have much time left. Even with the diabetes under control, she was just old. I started to think about her owner, and how devastated I would be if this were my dog and she passed. She was adorable, sweet, and full of love even though she wasn't feeling well. Suddenly I wanted to cry, and go home.

Just so you don't get too sad, here's a horse with a cone on its head.

Fortunately the emergency surgery had to start and took my mind off Lola and on to other things. It was a pretty crazy, fast and hectic surgery and I had to concentrate on that. But once I got home, Lola was still on my mind. I don't know if she went home or is doing well, and honestly, I'm often afraid to find out. Lots of times we'll have long term or repeat patients that we get attached to, and it's pretty obvious how much it brings down the whole staff to learn they've passed. If we make jokes or act callous towards death it's because the reality of it would break our hearts, our minds, and make us numb.

It's important to appreciate the people in this industry, and think about the situations we have to go through and deal with daily. It's important for us to appreciate each other, something I think we often forget to do. And it's important for us to appreciate ourselves. 

Animals can't talk, but they thank us every day in their own ways. That's why we do this.