by Jo Hardy
I’d put myself forward for a Game of Thrones-style Veterinary Oath skit, a ‘What does Mark Fox say?’ dance, (a play on the ‘What does the Fox Say?’ YouTube hit, in our case involving an elderly parasitologist called Mark Fox), a choir, the band and a ‘derm-emergency’ video, the point of which was that there was never an emergency on dermatology.
The Game of Thrones act was the veterinary oath we would all have to take once we had qualified, spoken while wearing surgical kit, in a parody of the show’s famous oath, addressed to a tree with our vice-principal’s face on it. Both that and the ‘What does the Fox Say?’ skit went down a storm, as did the shot challenge – a film of several students downing a shot for every letter you have after your name as a fully qualified vet: BVETMED MRCVS. So twelve shots. And astonishingly, most people afterwards were still standing! I thought it really reflected the many years of the attitude of ‘work hard, play hard’ that my peers had adopted throughout their degree. Clearly their stomachs had learnt to take it. I gave it a miss, though.
The Revue was a fantastic success and sold out on both nights. For the second night we had hired a DJ for a big party at which we enjoyed all the spirits left over from the shot challenge.
At the party I was thrilled to catch up with Kate, one of the friends I had lost touch with over rotations because of our wildly different schedules. She lived nearby and in the early hours we headed back to her place. My housemates had all dispersed to other people’s houses for the night and the trains had stopped running, so I was grateful for her offer of a bed.
We got in, sleepy-eyed, but decided to stay up for some toast and a cup of tea and a chat. It had been such a good night, but I suddenly realised that, apart from the graduation ball, this had been our last party as a year group. I felt a moment of real sadness – I had loved being a student and in five years together we had all become very close. Now it was almost time to go our separate ways.
With the Revue behind us it was time to put all thoughts of partying aside. Throughout May I was attending lectures from nine to five each day, and revising or filming each evening. And although I’d started my revision in good time I still felt completely overwhelmed by how much I had to get through. I had eight full, large A4 folders, four textbooks and a research project with associated published papers to read through. There were moments when it was difficult not to panic.
The first of my exams, a couple of weeks before the others, was an oral exam on my research project. I was very proud that I’d pulled off the project after the initial doubts of two of my clinicians, and I felt it had been really worthwhile. I found that shoes do change the shape of horses’ hooves, generally for the worse, although there are pros and cons with both, and my conclusion was that horses are better off without shoes. This was a controversial conclusion that some in the equine community wouldn’t like. But it was also a real contribution to the ongoing debate. My supervisor had been delighted and had suggested I submit my paper for publication in a scientific journal.
I knew that because it was controversial the examiners would give me a complete grilling on every aspect of my research, and because of this I had prepared thoroughly. I had gone through my research with a fine toothcomb to find any tiny flaw and to prepare a response to it. Going into the exam I felt very nervous, but I came back with a decent response to every one of their many questions. I had a tactic to not let them push me to be biased, because I knew that if I showed bias they would rip into that. So whenever I had an opportunity I made sure I discussed the pros and cons of both shoes and barefoot management. I didn’t feel I’d been caught out, although they’d certainly tried.
Two weeks later it was time for the written exams. We had four: an extended matching questions (EMQ) exam, a long answer exam, an elective exam and a SPOT test, which is like a timed multiple-choice exam.
In extended matching questions you have five clinical scenarios and ten answers, and you have to match the scenario with the correct answer. The questions were along the lines of, what is the diagnosis? What diagnostic technique would you use? What would the treatment be? You could use each answer more than once, so there was no chance of narrowing the choice of possible answers.
The long answer exam was essentially a problem-solving paper. We were given lots of clinical scenarios, and we had to say what we thought about each of them and the process you would go through to diagnose and treat the problem.
The third paper was split into two parts. The first was a published scientific article that we had to critically analyse and say whether we could trust the results. The article we had was a badly written one on the effects of passive smoking in dogs. I thought it was quite interesting, but I knew there were massive flaws in the experiment that was being written about, so I had lots to say. The second part was based on one of our electives and we had a choice of questions. I chose an equine soft tissue question: a colt has come in to be castrated – talk through how you would go about this and include any complications that might arise from it.
The final exam was called the SPOT test and it was a multiple-choice exam held in the lecture theatre. We had to watch a PowerPoint presentation that kept on moving from question to question every minute. You had to write your answers, and there was no going back and no changing them, so the pressure was full-on. You either knew the answer straight off, or you didn’t.
All of the exams were tough. I was counting on lots of horse-related questions but, apart from my elective question, many seemed to be about small animals – really hard ones requiring information we would never use in first-opinion practice. I was also counting on getting an ethics-based question in the long answer paper, as I could waffle on about things that were common sense, but no, they were all clinical.
By the end we were all tired and very uncertain about how we’d done. Lucy was taking the healthy attitude that what was done was done, and nothing more could be done about it. Charlie was back to his normal bouncy self, hugging everyone that seemed to be fretting about their results. Katy was feeling pretty happy with her answers. She had always been a genius, though. And Grace and Jade? Well, they were pretty focused on finding a glass of wine – pronto.
But there was at least a welcome distraction. In return for our participation in the series, ITN had hired an enormous bouncy castle and brought in caterers to cook everyone paella for lunch. It was the perfect antidote to the tension and stress of a week of exams.
And finally, it really was all over. I could hardly take it in. After all the frenzied activity of the past few months, there was nothing to do but wait for a hellish two weeks until results day. I felt lost! I went back home for one of those weeks, spent time every day with Elli and Tammy, packed away my books and files and mooched around, biting my nails and trying to distract myself. Abi came riding with me a few times, filling me in on her new boyfriend, an old friend of hers from Exeter University who had recently moved to the area. I was so happy for her.
In the second week I went back to college to finalise some things for the graduation ball and to spend a few relaxed evenings with Lucy, cooking and watching Star Wars. I had never watched the original movies, and she insisted we had to do it right now while we had a bit of time.
The day before results day I made a deal with Dad. ITN wanted to film me getting my results, which meant waiting to go and find them on the board at the RVC, rather than looking them up earlier online. Dad agreed to look them up online and text me if I had failed, so that I would at least know in advance.
That evening, back in the house, James, John, Kevin and Andrew were all waiting just as anxiously as I was. It was strange to be in the house together. The five of us had rarely coincided over the past year, but that evening we had dinner and sat around chatting and laughing about the good times we’d spent together and how all five of us were so different, yet perfect as housemates. We would all be moving off in entirely different directions soon. It was almost the end of an era.
The next morning I wok
e ridiculously early, tried to get to sleep again, gave up, had a shower, got dressed, paced around, tried to eat breakfast, felt sick, and finally headed to college.
I knew the online results would be posted at ten that morning, and of course most people would look their results up in private before facing anyone else. But for those of us in the series there was no such luxury. But as ten came and went there was no text from Dad. That had to mean I had passed, but I needed to see it for myself. What if Dad’s phone had failed? What if he’d tried to text me and it hadn’t got through?
The film crew couldn’t meet me until midday. They needed to film all ten of us and I had to wait my turn, but it was beginning to feel like an exercise in extreme cruelty. And when they did finally pitch up they suggested we go outside to do an interview first. What? I was desperate by then, but they insisted. I had absolutely no idea what I was saying in the interview.
Finally we were done and they followed me over to the board with the results pinned up on it. But my mind had gone blank. What on earth was my candidate number? It took me a minute to remember, and once I did it was another very tense minute as I searched for it amongst 250 others. When I found it and read across the page I did a double take. ‘Rotations = Merit, Research = Merit, Exams = Merit, Overall = Honours’. I stared at the page. It said Honours. I had achieved Honours, the equivalent of a First Class degree. It hit me with a tidal wave of emotion, and I broke down and sobbed. Kate arrived at that moment and I was grateful for a hug. I had planned to stay cool, especially with the cameras there, but after the hardest, most stressful five years of my life I was done. I was a vet. And I would never have to take another exam again.
Jacques had arrived a couple of days before my graduation ceremony, and after a six-month break it was wonderful to see him. Our relationship had survived the parting and now he was here for me, for the most important day of my life.
He sat with my parents and Ross in the Central Hall, Westminster. It was scorching and like the other graduates I wore a heavy black gown – I don’t think I’ve ever been so hot. The staff were handing us glasses of water and watching anxiously to make sure that no one fainted.
It was a long wait in the wings for my turn. I was number 100 out of 250 and I could only feel for the person who was up last. As my name was called, Joanna Nevison Hardy, I crossed the stage, applause ringing in my ears, beaming with pride. I handed my hood to the president of the RVC who, in keeping with tradition, placed it over my head and onto my shoulders, gave me a wink and said, ‘Enjoy your moment,’ before the vice-president handed me my certificate and they both shook my hand.
When it was all over, and family photos had been taken, ITN did a final shot of the ten of us jumping in the air. And naturally they made us do it thirty times. After which, they gave us each a huge frame with two pictures inside: a black and white shot of me from my studio photo shoot and a colour picture of the ten of us from the filming of the opening sequence. I was sad to see them go, and I would truly miss them. We hugged them goodbye, not wanting to let go, before heading off for champagne and celebrations.
My family had a lot to celebrate, because both Mum and Ross had passed their finals, too. Mum had got a degree in Humanities with Creative Writing from the Open University, and Ross had graduated from Canterbury Christ Church University with a degree in Music. Dad was beaming with pride while joking that the only degree he held was from the School of Hard Knocks.
Two days later we had our graduation ball in Hatfield House. It all came off to perfection: gorgeous gowns, Pimm’s on the lawn to the sound of strings, delicious food, flowers and music. I wore a dusty pink chiffon floor-length dress by Lipsy. I felt so elegant. And Jacques was with me. It was the first time a lot of my friends had met him and it felt really special having him there.
The next morning I packed up all my things and moved out of the house in Welham Green and back home. I hugged all the boys – I would seriously miss them. They had all passed their exams, and now James and Hannah, along with Buddy, were heading to Wales where, despite James’s lack of enthusiasm, Hannah had landed a job. Kevin was moving back to the USA, where he had got the job he wanted as a veterinary pathologist in Georgia. John, determined to stay in the UK, had got a job lined up in a mixed first-opinion practice in Scotland. Andrew was still undecided, so he planned to take the summer off before looking for a job. Lucy had passed, too, and she had a highly sought-after farm vet internship in West Sussex that would lead to a job. She was only going to be forty-five minutes from my home, and we promised we would keep in touch and see each other as regularly as possible. In the two weeks between exams and graduation she had bought a gorgeous black cocker spaniel puppy that she called Renly, after the character in her favourite Game of Thrones, and I was looking forward to lots of puppy cuddles each time we met up.
Charlie, Grace, Jade and Katy all passed, and they were all still looking for jobs that were either small-animal based, or in mixed practices with minimal equine work. They were all quite happy to take their time and enjoy a few weeks of well-earned holiday before starting work.
As for me, after a couple of weeks’ holiday, I had some locum work lined up so that I could save some money before heading out to Africa for a few months, first to work with an animal charity near Jacques in the local South African townships, and then in Uganda as a farm vet with World in Need.
After the packing up, the goodbyes, the tears and a hot fifteen minutes trying to find a way to stuff everything into my car, it was time to go.
I was a fully fledged vet and a whole new life was just beginning.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank all my friends, family and colleagues who supported and encouraged the creative process of this book in some way or other. In particular, I would like to thank David Church, Vice Principal of the Royal Veterinary College, for being so enthusiastic about the story and giving it his blessing on behalf of the RVC. I would also like to thank Lucy Jerram for being a great friend by my side throughout the whole ‘Rotations’, both in the good times and the bad, and for being happy for me to share her story in this book. Further, I want to thank ITN Productions for casting me in Young Vets, for believing in me to do them proud on national television and for providing me with the opportunity to open doors I never thought I would open. I would also like to thank my wonderful editor, Caro Handley, for being someone I feel I can talk to about anything, for clicking with me from day one and essentially holding my hand into the literary world, which was so unfamiliar to me. Finally, I would like to give my biggest thank you to my parents, Giles and Clare, and my better half, Jacques, for supporting me through the most challenging five years of my life when I was trying to obtain a world-class veterinary-medicine degree from the best vet school in Europe, for picking me up when I wanted to quit and for celebrating with me in my successes. I couldn’t have done it without you.
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