Last night, I left school around 7:30pm. I had just finished my treatments for the night, which went longer than planned as I had to clean out the poop-smeared kennel of an isolation patient, rebandage her poop-smeared leg and other such niceties while my clinicians went out for beers. On my way out, one of my favorite clinicians from my large animal medicine rotation held the door open for me. "Just came from the coating ceremony," she told me.

Three years ago, I attended my own coating ceremony. There was no poop on my clothing, I didn't smell like bleach and I hadn't just worked a twelve hour day. Hell, I think I had make up on! I listened to the dean of our school talk about the profession of veterinary medicine; noble, trustworthy veterinary medicine, a far cry from down on my knees in an isolation unit scrubbing feces off of stainless steel wearing my hot, cumbersome isolation unit gear. We were fed a nice dinner; last night, I scarfed McDonalds because I was too tired and didn't have enough time to cook. Danny and I walked up on stage together and he helped me into my blue coat, the tangible evidence of my entrance into veterinary school (with the promise of "DVM" in a few short years). I came home last night to a dark apartment, to talk to my wonderful husband over Facetime who misses me and is miserable and bored right now. At the coating ceremony, I was excited for the time to come; now, I count down the days until I'm done with this beast they call vet school.

And yet, the end of the day yesterday was one of only a few times in all these years that I've thought: I wish I wasn't here doing this (okay, that's a lie: I thought the same thing this morning when my alarm when off for me to go in to rounds, heh). The days are long, the paperwork is tedious, the responsibilities are numerous and poorly described, some people just don't like you because you're a student, some animals try to bite you while others just poop innocently and step in it and smear it everywhere, there are terrible, god-awful smells and there are heartbreaking cases.

But in the end, it's worth it to me. I hope the incoming classes of 2018 at vet schools across the country get their new coats and see them as a canvas to paint on, to muck up and stain and tear. That way, when you have a rough day, you can look down at your coat and know that at least you made a difference somehow, even if it was just by cleaning up a stinky kennel.