Navigating being a vet student with ADHD

Hello, I’m Tom, and for about six years of my life, I’ve known I have ADHD (that’s attention deficit hyperactivity disorder). I’ve probably had it longer that. I think that’s how it works.

To be honest, the clues appeared early, from sprinting in circles around my house with lunch in hand, to being as hard to find during my time in primary school as the neurovascular bundle on horse feet (there’s my quota of vet school jokes met). One of my older brothers was diagnosed with ADD (attention deficit disorder) at the same time as I was diagnosed with ADHD, making our third brother the odd one out.

When I arrived in secondary school, I launched into academics like a feather at a dart board – no matter how much energy I threw at something, I always seemed to fly off in another direction through no fault of my own. Several other directions sometimes. SATS came and went, and to my complete surprise, I had scored below expected. I honestly thought I had been working hard for them – and I had, just not in quite the right way. 

Fast forward a little and I’m sat in a nicely lit room, across from an equally nice psychiatrist, who glanced at my near constant ‘chair dancing’ and said ‘I think we could pursue an ADHD diagnosis’.

Shut the front door! My mind was blown. (Looking back, as I write this with both legs flying around under my desk, it might have been an easy spot.)

Once we’d figured out the right daily amount of atomoxetine to keep me controlled without stifling my energetic disposition, I managed to do pretty well in my GCSEs. I maintained the strategies and methods that I’d acquired through to my A-levels, also netting some grades I was surprised and happy with. Then came my goal in all this: veterinary education.

Learning how to learn at vet school

I’m one of the students in the first April-intake cohort at Nottingham vet school. Unfortunately, the Covid-19 lockdown restrictions meant I began vet school in the confines of my own room. All day. 

As you can imagine, for someone like me, this was a challenge. But this was new, this was exciting, this is what I had strived for, so I applied myself. I dug in, made peace with my stress balls, and attacked learning in a way that I hadn’t before.

The great breadth and wealth of information sent my way, considered by some a challenge, actually helped me, as I have always found that covering many things in rapid succession helps a great deal with my focus. I humbly thank my family for helping me through this long period of being stationary.

Then, finally, came move-in day and the resumption of in-person practical teaching; an exhilarating, scintillating prospect indeed, and much of the reason I gravitated to veterinary medicine. I enjoy getting hands-on and seeing the oddities of evolution up close, while investigating all the avenues this profession has to offer. Nothing quite compares.

All this was quickly followed by the first formative exam, and picture my joy when I see the exam structure. Short answers and multiple choice? No two-and–a-half-hour exams? Colour pictures with drag and drop?  These exams weren’t just a breath of fresh air, but also a comparative joy to what I had done before and gave me a distinctly positive attitude about my prospects in the veterinary degree. 

Adaptations and overhauls

However, the arrival of exams also brought another sudden realisation. I could not revise as I had before. No longer could I pace in circles as my family quizzed me with flash cards. No longer could I practise exam technique on past and sample papers, or utilise my previous unique exam arrangements (I was able to pause the clock and step away from my exam when I felt I needed to, and was given a separate room to myself – the latter was probably due to other students getting fed up with my constant vibrating on squeaky chairs during exams).

So came the adaptations and overhauls. Well into my second year at the time of writing, I use Quizlet, an artificial voice to replace my family’s. I stopped bothering with scribbled notes and now go straight to making revision materials – too much sitting still was required for things I wouldn’t use again.

I now live for practical teaching, where all the jumbled theory and lectures come together in a series of eclectic light-bulb moments. I sometimes listen to lectures while skipping, or if they’re pre-recorded, on 1.5x speed.

I also cannot apply myself to any degree of academic teaching if I have not exercised that day, struggling to even stay in the chair, let alone listen to a 45-minute lecture. Daily exercise by any means is what gets me through, in many ways. I began to pick up hobbies I’d left by the wayside before: music and art, primarily. I have always found keeping my mind active and engaged in many things is the best way to placate it.

Learn, struggle, cope and succeed

I suppose the point of all this is partly to recount my experiences and challenges as a fledgling veterinary student, but also to reiterate that everyone learns in their own way. Whether you have the same four letters tacked on that I do, something totally different, or nothing diagnosed at all, it doesn’t really matter. You learn at your pace, struggle and cope at your pace, and succeed at your pace and in your own way, beholden to noone but yourself. Our minds are wonderful, horrifying and beautifully unique. And who would want to change that?

Coming to vet school has not only rekindled my love for many things, writing included, but has given me the chance to meet more unique minds than I ever have before. I see all sorts of strange and endearing personalities every day and there are few things in life that I enjoy more. I think we could all stand to be a bit weirder.

If you’d like to connect about my ADHD or yours, or anything else at all really, I’d love nothing more.

(This is an edited version of an article that first appeared on the Association of Veterinary Students website and is reproduced with permission.)