A busy Ryan Storey had no time to go to the mountains. Fortunately "Aspen," one of his three pets, came to him. Frank DiMeo/University Photography
It's the cruelest question a veterinary student can hear, especially from family members: "Are you sure you don't want to be a real doctor?"
Ryan T. Storey, D.V.M. '99, thought he had the answers -- until one day last month when the self-doubts about a life decision returned.
"A lot of people tried to talk me out of this, and I've had my own reservations from time to time," said the 25-year-old graduate, with honors, from the College of Veterinary Medicine. "I know I'll be taking a real financial hit." Remuneration for veterinarians' services -- once they finally begin practice -- is "unrealistically low," he said. And for those interested in specialization, more years of meagerly paid internships and residencies lie ahead before practice can begin. Student loans can take forever to pay.
"I tell people that we go through the same medical training as physicians, and for many more species than just the human," Storey said, reciting the answers that help future veterinarians bolster their esteem as "real" doctors. "In many ways we are more privileged than our physician counterparts," he said, noting that in a single day a veterinarian may use skills for internal medicine, surgery, dermatology, opthalmology and more. "The variety is one of the things I love about this profession. It's a mixed blessing, though, because it's quite difficult to keep up with the research in all the specialties."
Storey said the drive to become a veterinarian wasn't always there. Like many kids, he greatly admired the family vet who doctored the many pets of the self-described animal lover. But youthful admiration wasn't enough, even for a youngster fascinated by biology and life sciences. Then, as an undergraduate in a curriculum that could lead to any health-career path, including medical school, Storey heard the call. He had worked as a summer intern for a veterinarian and witnessed the selfless dedication to animal well-being. He knew what he wanted to do with his life.
Doubts surfaced early in the rigorous four-year veterinary sequence at Cornell. In part, Storey realizes now, he already missed the freedom of the undergraduate years when he had time to pursue avocational interests like wilderness backpacking, mountain biking and physical fitness. More so, he worried whether the years of intensive study and sacrifice would be worth a career with dubious respect and precarious finances.
"It can be so overwhelming, trying to get a basic grasp on all the subjects at a time when the information base is expanding at an incredible rate," Storey said, recalling one of those "what-am-I-doing-here?" moments: He was leaving the teaching hospital after a grueling day in the clinics, clad in stinking coveralls and dragging his doctor's bag. He noticed a student from another college at Cornell, dressed in spotless golfing togs and hefting his bag of golf clubs. That student's master's degree would earn him more the first year out than most veterinarians ever make.
Then he remembered: "I am doing this for the animals."
Storey credits his fellow veterinary students ("some of the most motivated people I know") and the veterinary faculty ("brilliant") for keeping him on track. Oh, yes, much credit goes to Bonny Scheck, his high school sweetheart, fellow student at the Rochester Institute of Technology and at Cornell. The Drs. Scheck and Storey will be married June 5.
For a student who earned a coveted Michele and Agnese Cestone Foundation Scholarship, which is awarded on academic merit, and who graduated at the top of his class, a moment of last-minute remorse might seem surprising. But there it was again, in the last week of school: "Do I really want to be an animal doctor?"
Looking ahead solved the problem again. After the honeymoon, Storey will start an internship at a major clinic in Atlanta, practicing internal medicine, surgery, opthalmology and his special interest: emergency and critical-care medicine. "Some of the most challenging cases come in as emergencies. You start with a clean slate. Based on your physical-exam skills and ability to interpret a lot of new information in a hurry, you can save an animal's life."
If that grateful look in a recovering pet's eyes doesn't melt a veterinarian's heart, then the thanks from the owner will, he said: "All it takes is one client sending a box of chocolates to remind you why you're a veterinarian."
Not a real doctor? "I'm glad," Storey said, "that I didn't listen to them."
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