This story was originally published on my vet school blog, “Wet Cleanup on Aisle 5.”
I went to the pet store this week for three things:
- some ear wash
- food for two different cats
- to poke around
When I am in a pet store, and I have time to kill, I like to take my time and look at every single product. I read the ingredients, look at how much they sing to me from the shelf, that sort of thing. Why? I figure if I’m going to be a veterinarian, I better be really familiar with as many products as I can be.
This behavior of mine, apparently, makes store clerks nervous.
“Can I help you find anything?” the helpful, hovering girl at the counter asked.
“Nope, thanks, just browsing.”
I was taking my time, looking at the variety of first aid creams and ointments.
I could tell she was keeping her eye on me while pretending to do other things. When she saw me looking at the ear washes, helpfulgirl apparently put ointment and ear wash together and could stand it no longer.
“What’s wrong with your kitty? Is she scratching her ears?”
I should have, at this point, answered no, but rather than launch into the long explanation of why my kitty’s ears look horrible (chronic autoimmune disease, a bout of eosinophilic-crapola-flareup [yes, that’s the technical term], plus scratching) and telling helpfulgirl that, thank you, kitty is under the care of a veterinarian, I gave a vague answer about them being scabby due to auto-immune issues.
“Oh, well, this is a really good ear wash,” she said.
And then she tried to press me for more symptoms. “Are they, like, red, or do they have goop, or…?”
I could tell she was trying to diagnose my kitty’s problem and recommend a course of treatment, because the next thing she said was, “You know, if she’s not feeling good you could try some lysine, because that usually helps perk them up, and…”
Grr. While I appreciate the fact that she was trying to be helpful, her comments were completely unsolicited, and… seriously? She just recommended lysine without having any medical basis (or, I presume, training) to do so. What would happen if someone’s kitty really needed to see a vet, but they believed the person at the pet store who said lysine would fix them? Grr. By this point, I was really annoyed.
And then…
“Oh, does your kitty have allergies? Because maybe she’s allergic to some of this food you’ve picked out.”
“That’s for a different cat,” I said, my voice as flat as I could manage.
Never mind, helpfulgirl, that I have been through two years of allergy feeding trials with my kitty and am intimately familiar with every ingredient in every can of food that passes through her mouth.
There went my browsing. I packed up and paid for my purchases, all the while pretending to listen to the speech about how Natural Balance also makes an allergy food that might be good for me to try, and how I can get a discount if I buy by the case, and how if my kitty doesn’t get better I should try X, and so on…
Since I would like to browse in the future, I really ought to come up with a great one-liner for repelling helpfulgirls/boys. Someday I will be able to say, “Thanks for your helpfulness, but I’m a veterinarian1 and I just like to browse.”
- Though now that I am a veterinarian, I rarely admit this in public. The questions you get… Also, I’m much less of a people pleasing introvert now and would just ask her to leave me alone. One benefit of getting old.
Sometimes I can cut these people off quickly and politely, by assuming they really ARE experts and asking detailed questions — you quickly outstrip their level of knowledge, which (unless they’re not intelligent enough to realize it, which *sigh* is not that rare) both indicates to them that you know enough to not be worth BSing, and that maybe they should learn some more about whatever topic it is they’re blustering about.
It will be fun to say “Oh, I’m a vet and I’m just browsing” one day, though! 🙂
This tangentially reminds me of an encounter I had with a pharmacist in CVS a few months ago — I asked where their low-dose chewable aspirin is, and she snapped, “You shouldn’t give aspirin to children!”. I said, “I’m aware of that; I’m just asking if you carry it” and she said angrily, “I’m telling you, you can’t give it to children!”. So I stared at her for a few seconds, and said “It’s for my DOG.” “. . . . Oh. It’s in aisle 3.”
Of course, the outcome of giving aspirin to my dog kind of takes the wind out of those particular sails (and I know, I know, she was genuinely trying to protect my nonexistent children from their mother’s apparent ignorance) but it was still kind of obnoxious.
It would also have been fun to tell the woman you were compounding drugs in your basement, or something, just to see the look on her face. Okay, not really, but still…
She could have asked you, nicely, “Did your doctor recommend that?” Because, sorry lady, they make aspirin for kids for a reason…sometimes it’s indicated! Heck, maybe YOU like chewables. I do… Yeesh.
Anyway, glad I am not the only one to be annoyed by unsolicited medical advice! I like the asking detailed questions idea, except I probably wouldn’t be able to pull it off without sounding super snarky. 🙂