Episode 32  ·  14m 52s

What New Veterinarians Need to Hear — Mentorship, Burnout, and Honest Communication

Dr. Michael LoSasso, DVM & Julie Schwenzer Frisco Emergency Pet Care
Career advice Mentorship Burnout Client communication Veterinary school debt
"Veterinary medicine is evolving fast, and Dr. LoSasso shares what new veterinarians need to know to thrive, grow, and stay grounded in a demanding but deeply rewarding profession."
— Julie Schwenzer

Episode summary

Asked what he'd tell someone entering the field today, Dr. LoSasso starts with something most people outside the profession don't realize: veterinary medicine offers far more career flexibility than human medicine. A human medical license locks you into a specific track through medical school and residency; a veterinary license doesn't work that way. He could, in theory, decide tomorrow to work exclusively on fish — he'd owe it to his patients and clients to actually go educate himself in aquaculture medicine first, and specialties like surgery or ophthalmology require formal additional training, but the underlying flexibility is real.

His top piece of advice, though, is less about career paths and more about self-preservation: if you genuinely don't like the job, leave it. Clinic culture matters, and protecting your mental health, sanity, and family time isn't optional. His framing — take all the emotional reward the profession offers, but don't sell any part of yourself to get it.

"Today's graduates know so much more than there was when I graduated 30-some years ago. It's not a lack of knowledge — it's a lack of confidence. What we call imposter syndrome."
— Dr. Michael LoSasso, DVM

On mentorship, he's candid that he wouldn't have survived his own first day walking straight into small-animal emergency practice — he tracked equine in school and, as he puts it, wouldn't have known which end of a dog bit. What strikes him about the new graduates he's hired since is the opposite problem: their clinical knowledge is often excellent, but they lack confidence, needing a mentor who acts as a sounding board rather than someone who micromanages — room to make mistakes, reflect, and grow without beating themselves up over it.

Not everyone is built for this specific work

Dr. LoSasso is honest that some clinicians simply aren't emotionally suited to the volume of euthanasia and death that comes with emergency practice — and that's a legitimate thing to recognize about yourself rather than push through. For him personally, being part of a peaceful, well-handled end brings genuine reward rather than trauma. His hospital has also changed its own protocols to protect staff: deceased pets are placed in specialized bags (not generic trash bags) and handled in dedicated comfort rooms, shielding the team from repeated exposure, and a staff social worker gives everyone a place to process difficult cases rather than carry them alone.

On communication with owners, he draws a distinction between confidence and honesty — being upfront about uncertainty rather than either overstating or understating what's known. His clearest example: a dog sent to his ER described only as "diabetic" often turns out to be a diabetic ketoacidosis case — five days of hospitalization, $4,000 to $8,000 in treatment, roughly an 80% survival chance, and lifelong insulin injections every 12 hours afterward. He believes owners are owed that full picture upfront, not a partial one, because some families would make a different decision entirely if they had it before things escalated to an ER visit — and giving people the complete picture, including cost and long-term commitment, is what actually respects their ability to decide for themselves.

He closes with a number meant to reframe how people think about veterinarians financially: he's spoken with new graduates carrying $300,000 to $600,000 in student debt, and says anyone at the higher end of that range likely won't pay it off before retirement. The point isn't sympathy — it's context for anyone who assumes a vet's fees reflect profit motive rather than the cost of the education behind them.

Questions answered in this episode

The following questions are answered by Dr. LoSasso in this episode, drawn directly from the conversation.

Far more flexible than human medicine, according to Dr. LoSasso. Unlike a human medical license, which locks you into a specific track through medical school and residency, a veterinary license lets you move between small-animal, emergency, equine, fish, food-animal, food-inspection, poultry, and other paths without separate licensure — though he's clear you owe your patients and clients the effort to actually educate yourself in a new field before switching, and specialties like surgery or ophthalmology require additional formal training.
If you genuinely don't like the job, leave it and find another one. He stresses protecting your mental health, sanity, and family time, and says not to "sell" any part of yourself for a job — take the emotional reward the profession offers, but don't sacrifice your well-being to get it.
A mentor who shares experience and acts as a sounding board, not someone who micromanages. Dr. LoSasso says today's new graduates often have far more clinical knowledge than his generation did at the same stage — their real gap is confidence, not competence, often showing up as imposter syndrome. New vets need room to make mistakes, reflect, and grow without excessive self-criticism, with a mentor there to help their thought process make sense rather than dictate what to do.
He's candid that not everyone is emotionally suited for this specific work, and that's okay to recognize. For him, being part of a peaceful, well-handled end brings real reward rather than trauma — he finds meaning in helping families feel at peace with an educated decision. His hospital has also changed its protocol around deceased pets, using specialized bags (not generic trash bags) and dedicated comfort rooms to shield staff from repeated exposure to death, plus a staff social worker who gives the team a place to process difficult cases.
Because incomplete information leads to unrealistic expectations and unnecessary ER visits. He gives the example of a dog sent to the ER only described as "diabetic" — when the real diagnosis is diabetic ketoacidosis, requiring five days of hospitalization, $4,000-$8,000 in treatment, roughly an 80% survival chance, and lifelong insulin injections every 12 hours afterward. He says if a general practice lays out that whole picture upfront, some owners would make a different decision before ever coming to him — and he believes owners are owed that complete information to make the right call for their family.
Dr. LoSasso says he's talked to new graduates carrying $300,000 to $600,000 in student debt, and that anyone at the higher end of that range likely won't pay it off before retirement. He raises this specifically to counter the assumption that veterinarians are financially motivated — most of that career-long income is going toward education debt, not profit.
JulieVeterinary medicine is evolving fast. When you think about new veterinarians entering the field today, what's one first piece of guidance you wish someone had told you early in your career?
Dr. LoSassoInteresting question. If somebody had told me I'd end up in emergency medicine when I first started, I'd have thought they were crazy. One thing non-veterinarians should know is how varied this industry really is, and what you can do with a veterinary degree. It's kind of like a nursing license — tons of options. A medical license, not so much, you follow a pretty specific track through med school and residency and you're locked in. Veterinary medicine doesn't have separate licensure that way. We do have specialists — surgeons, ophthalmologists — and those require additional training. But if I decided tomorrow I wanted to work on nothing but fish, I could. I'd owe it to my patients and clients to educate myself on aquaculture, since the last class I took on that was more than 20 years ago, but the flexibility is there. The big thing I'd say, though, is if you really don't like the job, leave it, find another one. Clinic culture matters. Preserve your mental health, your sanity, your family time. Don't sell any part of yourself for the job — love the profession, take the emotional reward, but don't sell yourself to get it.
JulieWhat about mentorship — what should young vets look for in a mentor?
Dr. LoSassoMentorship is really important, whether in general practice or something intense like emergency medicine. I've hired a bunch of new grads, and it amazes me how good a job they do — I could not have walked into my hospital as a new grad and done anything useful. I tracked equine, so on graduation day I wouldn't have known which end of a dog bit. It took a lot of education to get from just horses to mixed animal to small animal practice, and eventually 20-some years in strictly emergency work. Senior veterinarians helping you aren't so much teaching you the ropes as making sure your thought process makes sense. Today's graduates know so much more than when I graduated 30-some years ago — it's not a lack of knowledge, it's a lack of confidence, what we call imposter syndrome. I've got a new grad right now who's fantastic, her thought process is amazing, she just has to get out of her own way. You need room to make mistakes, say "I wish I'd done that differently," learn the lesson without beating yourself up, and grow in a healthy way. A mentor should guide and be a sounding board — nobody needs a boss who micromanages, but having someone who's done the job before you to help navigate is super important.
JulieIt's got to be tough dealing with grieving pet parents and emergency situations regularly. How do you handle that, and what do you advise for coping skills in this profession?
Dr. LoSassoThe reality is some people aren't emotionally cut out for specifically what I do. There's a whole practice area — in-home euthanasia — I can see why some people are drawn to it, because I'd be good at it too, finding value in bringing a peaceful end and helping families feel grief but also peace, knowing they made an educated decision. We all have a limited shelf life, death is a natural part of life, and being prepared for that, having supportive people around you at the time of loss, matters. In emergency practice I deal with a tremendous amount of euthanasia and pets that died at home. Some new grads and externs tell me "there's no way I could handle that" — for me it's an opportunity to really help people, and I get a lot of reward out of it, not trauma. It really depends on the person and their outlook. We actually changed our protocol for handling deceased pets — specialized bags, not generic trash bags, handled in our comfort rooms so staff aren't constantly exposed to death, because that can be really challenging. The social worker on staff helps the team process some of that and gives them a place to vent. It's hard, and general practice sees it less often, but you still have to be prepared to help people through it.
JulieWhat's your advice to new veterinarians on communicating with pet parents?
Dr. LoSassoYou need confidence in your knowledge, but also humility — none of us know everything, and you have to be completely forthright with owners. I used to say "I don't know a lot," which got me in trouble because people heard that as not knowing what I was doing. What I really meant was I'm not sure of the diagnosis yet, here are the tests we need, here are the steps to find that unknown. "I don't know" is too short a sentence — you have to be honest and upfront about what's going on, the prognosis, next steps, and make sure people understand the big picture. I've had diabetic dogs come to me where all the owner was told is "your dog is diabetic, go to the emergency hospital." But it's not just diabetic — it's diabetic ketoacidosis, requiring five days of hospitalization, $4,000 to $8,000 in treatment, about an 80% chance of getting the dog through it, and after all that, insulin shots every 12 hours for the rest of the dog's life. For some people that's way more commitment than they'd have chosen, and it frustrates me — if the general practice had given the full picture upfront, some of those people would never have needed to come see me at all, they could have made that decision at the general practice level. Same with Parvo care — you can't just say "it's $1,500 for the first 24 hours," there's more than 24 hours involved. People deserve the full information to make a good decision for themselves, their pet, and their family. It's a lot, especially in emergency.
JulieI wish we had more time — the eye-opener for me was how many career options there are.
Dr. LoSassoWhether it's food inspection, turkeys, chickens, fish, small animals, or traditional food animal — mostly cattle, though chickens are technically food animals too. One more thing for non-veterinarians: understand what a veterinary education actually costs, because it'll melt your brain. I've talked to new grads with $300,000 to $600,000 in debt, and I can guarantee the ones at $500,000 or $600,000 likely won't pay that off before they retire. So when you think your veterinarian is in it for the money, they're really just trying to pay off student debt. It's an expensive profession to get into, and it's gotten significantly worse even with new schools opening.

Related episodes

Related services

Have a question for Dr. LoSasso?

We are open right now — and if your pet needs emergency care, come straight in.