Whats bringing you down?

Rachael SimmonsGetting into my car on Thursdays after my last shift of the week always exhibits the same response:

I'M SO GLAD IT'S FRIDAY!

I shut the door, settle into my seat behind the wheel and let out a big sigh of relief.

Recently however, I started to wonder if this was an indicator that I was burning out. Is my job so bad that I'm thinking this same thing when my work is done each week?

I've just hit my 25th year in the veterinary field. I've done it all-kennel cleaning, reception work, office manager, vet assistant, surgery nurse. Have I reached the point where I work to exist?

Is there a time frame where you feel like you've reached your limit? 

When I worked in general practice, I slowly evolved over time from one position to another. It was a gradual learning curve-which came with its shares of ups and downs. I worked for the first clinic for just more than five years. That's where I had my initial blast of the field. I started as a part-time kennel worker and advanced into a reception position. I was very young, but from the start I loved the veterinary field.

Soon I had a bunch of “regulars” who would come by to talk to me, who would ask for only me when they called. They were as much family as they were friends. I had no thought of burnout until I came face-to-face with a horrible reality. The office manager was stealing from the business, and I knew it. I could prove it. And when she found out I knew, she did everything she could to make my life a living hell. As much as I loved my job, I found myself doing a free fall straight to burn out. I was dragging myself to work every day, dreading that I would have to work with her. When things finally came to a head, I gave notice and quit. Just like that.

I didn't know where I would go, but my love for the field won out, and I was lucky to get a new job at another clinic. After a couple of years, I was promoted to office manager and settled in for the next 12 years. I loved my job. I developed new clients, new families to care for and I couldn't have been happier. I knew them all by name, I watched their kids grow, watched them graduate. Their pets became by special “kids.” But with life inevitably comes death, and sometimes in unexpected avenues. It was my honor to be asked to stay with the family, or to help hold their precious furry baby when the end was at hand. I cried right with them and many times after they left.

Compassion is part of the job, but for me it is part of who I am. Compassion fatigue is an unfortunate complication of working in this field, and is more prevalent after you develop lifelong relationships with the client plus the pet. Thankfully I had reached a point in my career where I felt like I never worked a day in my life. I didn't have any thought to leaving. And for every case that was emotionally draining, my only thought was that there was someone else that would need me the next day.

Then I transitioned to a specialty practice. Specialty practices lose some of that special client-patient-me bond. Where I am, I may only see the clients three or four visits, then they are back to their regular veterinarian. I began to miss that connection that I had thrived on previously. Being in a new environment, I lost some of my confidence and burnout started to loom over my head.

To make matters worse, there was strife in our business between team members. To deal with my feelings, I did what I was always counseled not to do. I took it home and complained to my husband. By letting my feelings out at home, I felt better and was less likely to speak badly at work. And I always felt better about things before I went back to work the next day.

We had more coworker issues and made some changes. Things settled down and I made it my goal to improve the short relationships I had with our clients. My clients seemed thankful for the personal treatment. This restored my confidence, and I felt happy again.

Along this journey I learned some important lessons.

I realized that it wasn't the job that was making me feel burned out as much as circumstances within the practice, like embezzlement or a toxic work environment. Dealing with cases that didn't turn out like we hoped, or clients losing their furry babies wasn't nearly as draining as dealing with strife in the workplace.

I also recently had an epiphany. To help deal with strife-which was ultimately leading to feelings of quitting-I decided that I would enter each day with a positive attitude. No matter what the schedule said, no matter how busy or hectic it appeared, I would make the best of it. No reason to get all worked up about it.

Changing my attitude has completely changed my outlook. I am happier, laughing more and back to loving my job. And getting in my car each Thursday isn't as much a warning sign of burnout as much as me sighing and saying I'm glad it's Friday. Here's to a job well done!

Rachael Simmons is a Firstline Editorial Advisory Board member and head receptionist at Veterinary Surgical Specialists in Spokane, Wash.