Submitted by Kelly Foster, DVM
We often talk about wellbeing in terms of data and programs, but sometimes a single piece of writing says it more plainly than any survey can. “The Starving Veterinarian,” a poem by Dr. Ashley Hill, a small animal vet in northern Colorado, came out of an ordinary early-morning emergency call and grew into something many of us will recognize. The title carries a double meaning — the literal skipped meals of a doctor rushing out the door, and the slower emotional and financial depletion that builds underneath a demanding calling. Hill names the things we tend to carry quietly: compassion fatigue, the strain of caring for patients whose families don’t always see the pressures behind the work, and the cost of giving your whole self to a profession that gives back unevenly. We’re sharing it here not as a downer, but because naming these experiences is often the first step toward tending to them — and because you deserve to feel seen in this work.
The Starving Veterinarian
By Dr. Ashley Hill
I awake with a groan, what a way to start,
Not the alarm clock but my phone, another bleeding heart.
I skip breakfast and grab some fruit,
The fastest thing to eat en route.
I think to myself, “don’t despair,
I’ll eat when I get there.”
Instead of gratitude,
I am met with attitude,
At just 5 minutes passed 8,
I’m greeted with “You’re late. How could you make us wait?”
Personally I’m impressed,
I didn’t get to eat, but I did get dressed.
You were so worried, but don’t dismay,
Thanks to us, your pet will be okay.
But “Oh, by the way…”
“I won’t be able to pay today.”
And as I stitch up this doggy,
My cereal sits getting soggy.
I throw the sad attempt away,
“Maybe I’ll just go out today.”
I see patients back to back,
There’s just no time for a snack.
The way things are going I have a hunch,
I’ll once again work through lunch.
“I’ll just go and grab something, it’s not that far…”
Then in walks a dog, hit by a car.
My techs order pizza and take shifts,
I might get some if I’m swift,
They bring out a piece as I take out a mass,
Ask if I want any, “For now, I’ll pass.”
Maybe I can just have a granola bar,
No time, a cat needs CPR.
I step out for a moment just to feel the sun,
“Sorry,” they say “we’ve got another one.”
I’m feeling weak and looking pale,
As I bandage this broken nail.
I finally get home, but the day’s not done,
A text on the phone, “Can you see another one?”
“At least I’ll be thinner”
I chuckle, half-way through prepping dinner.
With a sigh I turned off the stove,
And off to another emergency I drove.
When I get home so late at night,
I find I’m tired, and have lost my appetite.
There’s pain in my heart and in my head,
I should probably just go to bed.
But as my eyelids fall,
Another call,
“Please, my dog is very sick, I think it’s time.”
I just want rest, is that such a crime?
“I’m sorry, but it’s late and I have needs too.”
“Please doc, it’s not me, my pet really needs you.”
A long pause, I’m such an oaf,
Damn my allegiance to this oath.
“But she can’t get up, could you come to us?”
By now you know me, it should be obvious.
And out of bed I crawl,
In the middle of the night out to a house call,
I walk through the door, and on the floor,
I saw a sweet creature, barely a dog anymore.
“She hasn’t eaten, I can’t remember when she’s last had a
meal.”
I knelt by this angel, “Dear sweet girl, I know how you feel.”
I helped this dog pass peacefully,
And celebrate this life tearfully.
And as I push away the pain,
I go to bed and think, I would do it all again.
As a vet I am starving, for days I am hungry,
But please, go on how I’m “only in it for the money”.
It is not my fault your animal is sick,
But it is your fault, when I stay passed my shift.
It’s not my fault that you can’t pay.
But it is your fault why I’m so tired today.
Please don’t blame me for your issues,
I have also had my fair share of abuse.
Just because I’m not as open,
Does not discount that I, too, am broken,
I am affected for days,
In so many ways, and (so you’re aware), I am not okay.
But I’ll get up tomorrow, and keep it up,
Maybe not for you, but at least for your pup.
Weeks later, in the middle of my shift,
I receive an unexpected gift.
A basket of treats, and a hand written card.
“I appreciate what you do, don’t work too hard!”
And with the words that I read,
My soul had been fed.
I take a moment off my feet,
To finally get a small bit of it to eat,
“Geez, you look tired, are you okay?”
I smile and nod. I am tired. “It’s just been a long day.”
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