Week one : Orientation

It is an interesting social experiment to try and instill a sense of team spirit in a group of complete strangers who have been thrown into an utterly novel environment. The first week of vet school was like this. It got better as the week progressed, faces eventually became names, and the week culminated in us sharing a major milestone where we were welcomed to the college and the veterinary profession along with family and friends at our white coat ceremony. But that first day was a fast and dirty mini-course in team building. 

From day one of orientation, we were indoctrinated with the value of eschewing any natural inclinations to compete with each other in favor of a team-minded work ethic.  As a result, we were thrown into several mini team building projects, such as fabricating a tall paper tower with nothing but pieces of newspaper and scotch tape. Our tower was more like the (rapidly!) falling tower of Pisa, but subsequent team building efforts proved better, and some were quite impressive.

Now I realize I need to  backtrack a couple days and remark on my drive to vet school - where I left off in my first post. Although the drive was uneventful from Potomac (aside from the fact this Angeleno was not accustomed to the plethora of deer crossing signs on route, and one unfortunate deer carcass on the highway - insert obvious "The Deer Hunter" reference here), the arrival to my new home put a heavy ink-dripping exclamation mark at the end of an otherwise dry sentence. As in, the 4-hour drive to Blacksburg was fine until I arrived and exploded with panic at my new life!

When I moved across country for graduate school some 14 years ago, it was different. I was still young and moving beyond my geographic comfort barriers seemed like a  natural progression. Sure, I remember being nervous, but they were the nerves of anticipation. This time, I felt like I had made a monumental error in judgment. What otherwise stable semi-professional 30-something homeowning city dweller would leave their life for a probable tortuous life as a struggling veterinary student in the country?

I reached out to family. I called my mother. She was helpful...to an extent. True to form, she reminded me that I had willingly made this choice. "You always do what you want to do," was the gist.  I reached out to friends. I called my old friend and roommate Todd from grad school. Todd had his own monumental life events happening - he was soon expecting a baby and recently started a new job. He talked me down a cliff that only he could do. Todd is a great person to build you up when you need it. Within about half an hour, I started readjusting. It was a weekend of adjustments. So when I went to that first day of orientation, I felt ready to begin. I had to build myself up first, before helping build  a paper tower, or a team, for that matter. It continues to be a work in progress. 

On the road to vet school

My path to veterinary medicine has not been as straight as an arrow. Far from it. It is common to hear those interested in this profession begin planning their careers as children. I had no interest in the field until I was 30 years old -- after which it still took me a few years to seriously prepare and start taking the required prerequisites to even qualify for acceptance. And now, three years after that still and having been accepted into vet school - not only accepted, but two days away from orientation - I find myself anxious.

And why not? Humans and animals often are during major life transitions. Actually, my pets are taking it better than me. After all, they follow my lead, and despite a cross country flight on a plane and a brief sojourn in a strange (albeit comfortable) home, they seem to have adapted to their new life well. We aren't settled yet though, tomorrow we drive four hours to our final destination where we will be living for the next four years. I must be exhibiting enough confidence that they don't worry...in fact, they seem fine. But I am worried. After all, I am not a naive bright-eyed 22 year old like many of my classmates will be. I know that there is a possibility of this road being not only rocky but completely unpaved. I have had my share of career ups and downs and know, firsthand, that a graduate degree isn't the answer to life's problems, that bright starts can end with disappointments, and that failure is always a possibility.

So, after all that work to get to this point, from leaving my home and family, packing up and moving to the country, and taking on a huge debt, maybe I will realize that this was not the path for me, and that veterinary school should indeed be left to those animal loving children who always knew they wanted to grow up and save the Labradors, golden retrievers and pugs of the world ( I realize some also want to work with cows, and horses and sheep- from 4H club and all that).

Like I said, I am not a bright eyed naive 22 year old, or even 26 year old, or 30 year old. But maybe - just maybe- that's a good thing. Let's call it healthy pessimism. Because then I will be able to take the low points in stride, and know to appreciate the victories.  But honestly, I am not as mature or learned as I like to appear.  In fact, I am probably about six years behind in maturity - definitely somewhat of an optimist and I do tend to look over the precipice and still jump (but only if there is something really pretty at the bottom!). The world is a crazy place, and most things that are worth doing, take courage, bravado, curiosity and a momentary lapse in character (oh yeah, and money).  I will let you know how it goes.