Over the years, I have persistently advocated to Massey’s Companion Animal Hospital for improved standards and a cessation in their culture of arrogance and non-accountability.
The below email I sent to the 'Hospital's' and veterinary teaching facility's Practice Manager, Pauline Nijman, is one such example.
I challenge Massey – from the Practice Manager, Pauline Nijman, to the Head of the Veterinary School, Jon Huxley, to the incoming Vice-Chancellor, Pierre Venter - to publicly declare whether or not the below type of experience (which was always far from an isolated incident), and the culture that produced it, is acceptable in this supposedly international “gold standard” teaching institution.
Beause it’s not. Not from the perspective of the pet owner. And, by the way, the pet owner who pays outlandish and phenomenally inflated fees for the sort of "care" that resulted in the malpractice, the withholding of care after your administration of a contra-indicated cocktail of potentially lethal drugs to my beloved dog while you took eight observational videos of him (no doubt highly valuable "teaching aids"), your then fraudulent presentation of him to me as having "had a neurological event" requiring "urgent euthanasia" . . . and your coercion of his highly skeptical owner that was so prolonged and so intense that your objective was finally and regrettably achieved.
Equally unacceptable is institutional, managerial or individual retribution . . . most especially when executed (literally) against an innocent animal.
I contend that the fact that I never held back in calling out the failures and other unacceptable attitudes and conducts of the University’s Companion Animal Hospital made Harry a marked dog. Ironically, his owner’s very maternal need to protect him, was potentially the very thing that painted a lethal target on his dear, innocent little head.
In the forensic investigation of any suspicious death, one must establish a motive. While the "how" of Harry’s death is found in the invoices and the unnecessarily administered, heavy-duty, contraindicated drug cocktails, the "why" may well lie in the hospital’s long-standing resentment of an owner who refused to ignore their systemic failures.
Here's that example I promised (but there were numerous):
'Gold Standard' Fees vs (Very) Substandard 'Care'
From: editor@consumeraffairswriter.com <editor@consumeraffairswriter.com>
Sent: Wednesday, 23 October 2024 10:45 am
To: Vet Clinic <VetClinic@massey.ac.nz>
Cc: (Harry's regular vet)
Subject: URGENT re Instructions for Harry's Care Ignored In-Hospital
TO THE MANAGEMENT OF THE IN-HOSPITAL / ICU CARE FACILITY:
With regard to Harry’s 3-hour in-hospital stay yesterday afternoon, please refer to the below/earlier-emailed care instructions and special notes that I emailed yesterday morning, prior to my leaving Masterton to travel to Massey i.e. see these in the email trail below this email, sent at 9.05am by me to the Hospital yesterday.
Note also, that these instructions were discussed and reinforced in considerable detail to Chris during the admission consultation, and I have no reason to believe that they would not have been passed on.
Thus, I seek (firstly) an explanation as to the obviousness of his urgent need to urinate and desperate need to drink upon my collection of him later that afternoon. (Of course, I have no idea whether my other instructions were similarly ignored.)
Owners’ Instructions Should Not Be Considered ‘Optional’ & Certainly Basic Standards of In-Hospital Care Should Not Be, Either
In addition to the instructions conveyed about making sure he had regular toilet outings given his need to drink regularly (in turn, related to his elevated kidney readings), I had explained that he often needs some reasonable degree of walking around before he actually lifts his leg and goes. I asked that all of this be passed on, in detail.
Upon collection, he urinated immediately and long, in a manner that clearly indicated he had been holding on for some considerable time (as he will not willingly wet in a cage or his bed). Certainly, there was none of his normal “sorting out where to go” behaviour. He was clearly desperate.
Likewise, he was also desperate for water. Because it had not occurred to me that, after my multiple advices relating to the need for regular water consumption (at his own comfortable pace), that this would not have happened, I did not equate his desperately seeking my attention all the way home to Masterton, as his being in urgent need of water. When we arrived home, he drank a volume of water so large, that I do not recall his ever drinking so much in one go. In fact, it was more than one go: He drank a huge volume of water in an urgent manner, and then regrouped and returned immediately to the large bowl and drank more. It was clear that he was suffering intense thirst.
This would be an unacceptable situation even in a veterinary general practice. It is BEYOND unacceptable
(a) in what is considered to be one of New Zealand’s premier specialist veterinary hospitals, (b) in that Hospital’s ICU facility, and
(c) with the added consideration of my emphatic and detailed instructions around these matters, both in writing and verbally – which included emphasis on the fact that Harry has elevated kidney readings, and clearly, ready and
regular water intake and toileting (with patience) are non-negotiable and essential aspects of his required care.
Neurologist ‘In Such A Hurry’
Secondly, the purpose of Harry’s first visit to the Hospital yesterday was for a neurological examination with a specialist neurologist. With regard to the issue of a possible chemical exposure (key phrase: “rain water tank”) – a discussion arising from a question asked of me at his general practice and additionally relevant to the inclusion of “infectious disease” testing that I queried as having been included in the referral documentation from Massey’s end – I explained a scenario that had taken place at my previous property. Chris said the perfect person to put this question to, was the neurologist – and that this would be done during his exam later that afternoon.
When I returned I enquired as to the neurologist’s answer to this question. But the question had not been put, because the neurologist “was in such a hurry”.
What
– I would ask – is
that? The neurological specialist – whose hands my dog’s life is currently in, for attendance by whom I traveled from Masterton to Palmerston North, and for whose
un-rushed care, assessment and expertise I am paying a significant fee for, was “in a hurry”? Please explain. Was a full, un-rushed, thorough and diligent, all-bases-covered examination conducted? (NB: It was not explained to me why I was not asked to be present during the neurological examination, nor even to meet the specialist for whose services I am paying. Was this because she was “in a hurry”?)
Observed Variance in Hospital Personnel Care Factor
I would note that – when I returned to the Hospital for Harry’s 4.30pm collection – I was early and remained in my car for some minutes. I was parked in front of a fenced-in grass area that appeared to be the toileting arena. Two staff (vets? Vet nurses? One of each?) were there with a dog wearing a collar. One was walking the dog around, with the objective appearing to have been trying to get him to toilet and also enticing him to eat treats or a small amount of food.
As I was parked directly in front of this activity, I could not help but observe it: One of the staff, who was holding his lead initially, was completely uninterested. She was distracted (although not by anything in particular). Before long, she uninterestedly handed the dog’s lead over to her colleague, who was her polar opposite. The other staff member was caring, attentive and earnestly attempting to interest the dog (who was wearing a collar) in eating.
Perhaps it is this marked variance in “care factor” by which the negligence in Harry’s care is explainable.
Either my instructions weren’t conveyed, or they were conveyed to a staff member or staff members who weren’t listening, didn’t care, and/or considered an owner’s instructions as optional. In which case, at the very least, the principles and practices of good in-hospital care should have been applied, as the most basic and reasonable standard of care during hospitalisation. (In this regard, I would point out that if Massey charges in the vicinity of $2k for an overnight stay in ICU, and an owner cannot even be assured – in truth – of the most basic standard of care for their pet, the owner is certainly far better to provide it themselves at home.)
Accountability Sought
I would ask that whomever is responsible for the monitoring and management of personnel staffing the ICU (“intensive care”) hospital facility conduct an urgent and thorough assessment of exactly the degree to which the requisite care is (or isn’t) being provided.
Similarly, I would ask that there be standards of “non-hurry” applied to any specialist consultation / examination – and most especially to those that have direct relevance to a potential life-or-death situation.
In consideration that Harry will be undergoing an MRI this afternoon, and of course, the necessary general anaesthetic, and another period of ICU care until he is (hopefully) released back into my care tonight, I would like a response from hospital management to these very valid and urgent concerns, please.
Sincerely
Jordan Kelly
Below: Basic hydration (and regular toileting) are a clinical requirements, not optional extras (or they shouldn't be).
