The Magic of Mayhem By Keeley Adams
Your usual shift as a veterinary receptionist is about to begin. Glancing at your schedule for the day, it will undeniably look remarkably different by 6pm. You inspect the clock and view the hand about to tick over to 8am – it’s almost time for the phone lines to open.
You square your shoulders and bravely meet the eyes of the other receptionist across from you as you prepare like soldiers would for war; it’s go time. Your headset starts ringing and you have seven callers on the line in the span of a few seconds. The schedule looks full already but you don’t give up, searching to see where you can possibly fit them all in. Moving around the colour-coded appointments like a real-life game of Tetris, you fist-pump when you accomplish what seemed impossible 10 minutes ago. This continues for a few hours; an endless cycle of being seemingly full for the day but not able to turn away callers with sick pets who you know from experience may be urgent cases.
Some of the calls are decidedly less urgent. You spend 6 minutes on the phone with a client who assures you that their dog has been getting ‘oxtun’ for years and they need to order some more. You rack your brain trying to work out what ‘oxtun’ could be, presuming it to be some sort of drug, before realising that the elderly caller is actually trying to order “ox tongue” for her dog… You provide her the correct number for the local butcher.
Meanwhile, you can see your other receptionist carrying her fifth boxful of injured wildlife out the back for a vet or nurse to assess; by the way the box is bouncing about in her arms and making an awful screeching sound, you presume it to be a boisterous cockatoo. Good luck with that one, guys!
By the time the clock reaches 11am, you scurry into the break room to boil the jug for your second (or third) cup of coffee before retrieving the multiple vials of blood for the external pathology courier whom you all lovingly refer to as “The Blood Man.” You don’t let the sight of the four different types of bodily fluids you see being tested in the lab deter you from that coffee you were making. And yes, that’s right, I said four bodily fluid types… use your imagination!
Back at your desk, the cutest puppy imaginable is in for its first vaccination and hobbles behind the reception desk to say hello. And while many would assume that veterinary receptionists only cuddle puppies all day, the reality is that they also have to be constantly prepared as the first to assess and respond to any emergency calls.
Both phones ring at 1pm, and with your receptionist’s equivalent of the “spidey-sense”, predict that these will be the “big calls” for the day. As suspected, one caller describes how their puppy has eaten a whole box of rich, Belgian chocolates while they were at work and the second client requires urgent help for a calving at a rural property. You get to work quickly, asking the dog owner to bring their pet into the vet hospital immediately and confirm the address and contact details of the client for the calving which a vet will have to go out to as soon as possible.
You race out the back to let the vets and nurses know while your other receptionist works at rescheduling some of the non-urgent appointments to slightly later in the day. One vet is out the door with his nurse as quickly as he can to the calving, while the others prepare for the urgent case coming through the door.
A short time later, you watch as the cheeky chocolate-eating puppy is out the back, vomiting to expel the toxins they ingested into a bucket (and no-doubt reminding some staff of distinct instances from their youths which they’d rather not remember).
The rest of the day flies by with countless vaccinations, consults and hospital patients, and before you know it, the vet who was sent out to the emergency calving exhaustedly returns, their overalls covered in substances one would rather not think about (or smell) for too long. You dread to think about what their assigned work car must look like inside!
Eventually, the clock ticks over to 6pm and the phone lines finally close, allowing any other emergencies to be handled by the appointed after hours vet. The receptionists heave a sigh of relief, finally getting a break from the non-stop sound of the phone ringing and everyone prepares to go home.
One thing I have learnt about being a veterinary receptionist is that it certainly consists of more than just booking appointments; it is about managing the “magic of mayhem” that exists in our workplace in which everything can change in the blink of an eye… or the ringing of a phone.
But we wouldn’t have it any other way.
