Sept 21, 2026, 12:03am

I’m currently writing this letter at the witching hour, my eyes already feeling like lead. I’m still waiting for my laundry — the blanket that is imperative to keep me warm and cosy through the night — to dry. Not the best scenario, but I have a couple of minutes, so I want to tell you something.

Dear Sue, post-NAVLE,

This is Sue, about four weeks before the NAVLE. Scary stuff, we put it. What do you do when your entire future, career prospects, and possibly your life rest on a 7-hour exam?

You don’t make a monster out of it.

You trim it down to its true size, and look at it as it is, straight in the eyeballs.

It’s difficult. It’s long. I might even fail. But it’s not the end of the world if I do. So many successful vets I know have failed.

Yes, people will talk. You’ll technically be “behind” the majority of your peers. But no one walks your path better than you do. Believe that everything happens for a reason, that God and the universe have your best interest in mind. I read somewhere that struggle will find its fitting spot in your life eventually, even when it sucks while it’s happening. And things have always worked out for us in the end, haven’t they?

You’ve been through a lot in the past few years that might make past Sue piss her pants a little (I’m kidding, she was much stronger than I am). Never-ending imposter syndrome. Heart-wrenching homesickness. A family member’s passing that still aches. Some depressive episodes sprinkled in. A lot of moments thinking “I don’t know if I have this in me.” If you’ve been through a suicidal phase and came out alive, I believe you can do anything in the world. Just believe that, and keep walking this last chapter of vet school. You’ve studied so much, wrestled so much with this dream. And it’s so damn close you can see it.

It’s gonna be over way before Christmas, just you see.

You just need one last hard push. Yeah, push that motherfucker out. PUSH! Feel that pregnant-mama energy. Feel that last-year-PhD-student-finishing-her-dissertation energy.

Study every night because you can do this. Focus on your weak spots. Study smart. And after all of it, relax your shoulders. You’ve done it. Can Sue from five years ago imagine you completing a 7-hour exam? I don’t think so. She didn’t even know about its hours-of-torture nature until a year ago (to be fair, I could’ve done a bit more research about what this veterinarian dream entails, but here we are).

You’re her hero! Do it for the animals, and for the future owners who will need your compassion, your perseverance, your professional knowledge and expertise.

You came into this profession for the animals and the people who need help. The communities who need help. And this final month is the time to step it up, to realize that dream, to reach that reality.

Imagine yourself five years from now, treating the animals and reassuring anyone who comes into your clinic. Writing about your journey and getting recognized. Helping other passionate students.

Imagine yourself providing vet care to Vietnamese communities, especially those who can’t speak English well and need it in a country they’re unfamiliar with.

Imagine yourself encouraging young people to follow their dreams in communities and families that don’t believe in them, who laugh at the career prospect, who tell them to dream of becoming a real doctor or a lawyer instead.

You show them what’s possible. And you show yourself.

You will be a vet, and an amazing one.

Best of luck to you,
Sue, pre-NAVLE

That Vet Life 🐾

A Letter to Post-NAVLE Me