By Ezra Ameis, DVM
I’ve wanted to be a veterinarian since I was a little boy pretending to examine my Wheaten Terrier on the living room floor. And now that I own a vet clinic in Los Angeles, I still believe I have the best job in the world. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.
Veterinary medicine is a profession full of emotional whiplash. We euthanize animals regularly—sometimes after a long, well-loved life, and sometimes when the medical options just aren’t there. We try to be present and supportive for the family at that moment, but then we immediately need to walk into the next room and smile for a new client. The emotional whiplash is real. And over time, it adds up.
Many of us who become vets are emotionally intelligent and logically-mathematically inclined introverts. We’re often perfectionists. But that combination can come at a personal cost. We take our cases home in our heads. We worry we missed something. We feel responsible when things go badly—even when we’ve done everything we could. We internalize more than we express.
The culture of veterinary medicine often celebrates stoicism—so it’s no surprise that burnout is endemic. A 2020 Merck Animal Health study found that more than half of veterinarians reported symptoms of severe burnout and compassion fatigue. Consequently, veterinarians have among the highest rates of suicide and mental health struggles of any profession. According to a study by the CDC, male veterinarians are approximately 2.1 times more likely, and female veterinarians are about 3.5 times more likely, to die by suicide than the general U.S. population. This elevated risk is attributed to various factors, including long hours, emotional fatigue, student debt, and the pressure to always be perfect.
At my clinic, we’re trying to change that. We talk about mental health. We take breaks when needed. We try to schedule time for medical records and downtime. We encourage each other to leave work at work (though that’s easier said than done).
The profession as a whole has a long way to go. We need to take better care of ourselves—and each other. Please remember: behind the stethoscope is a person doing their best—clinically, emotionally, and physically—under incredibly challenging circumstances. If you’ve had a good experience with your vet and their staff, let them know. It matters more than you think!
Dr. Ezra Ameis is an emergency veterinarian and the owner of Paw Priority in West Hollywood, a clinic providing general practice, urgent care, and acupuncture. To suggest a topic or ask a pet-related question, email hello@pp.vet.