The Hidden Dangers Lurking in Your Chemotherapy Room

If you ask most veterinary professionals what scares them about oncology, you’ll hear a mix of clinical complexity, emotional intensity, and the perpetual fear of missing a new treatment that dropped since last Tuesday. What you won’t always hear is fear for their own safety. And according to Jaci Christensen, BAS, LVT, VTS (Oncology), that might be the most overdue shift of all.

Christensen is cochair of the task force for the 2026 AAHA Oncology Guidelines for Dogs and Cats, set to launch on January 2, 2026. Talk to her for more than five minutes and you’ll feel two things: one, that she might know more about chemo safety than anyone in the room, and two, that veterinary medicine has some catching up to do.

She entered oncology 15 years ago at Texas A&M’s Veterinary Medical Teaching Hospital with enthusiasm and very little PPE. Back then, she administered chemotherapy the same way everyone else did. As she puts it, “very little PPE, very little anything.” And it was normal. Routine, even.

Then 2017 happened. Christensen was asked to lecture on the brand-new USP 800 standards, and to prepare, she dove into the research. Except she didn’t find much in veterinary medicine. So she turned to human medicine. And what she found changed everything.

Traces of chemo drugs showing up in urine from staff who were never treated. Documented reproductive risks. Nurses with increased cancer rates. It was a lightning bolt moment. As she read the data, she realized she had been handling chemotherapy for years with minimal protection. She thought of colleagues who lost pregnancies. She thought of the techs around her who were just as unaware of the dangers. Then she had the moment every millennial has had at least once: the overwhelming “wait… what are we doing” realization.

She needed more answers, so she created an online survey. Veterinary technicians across the country responded, sharing what PPE they used, whether they were following USP 800, and even their personal health histories. It was eye-opening. Most were not using appropriate PPE. Double gloving was uncommon. Chemotherapy-approved gowns were often reused. Closed system transfer devices were skipped altogether. And the risks were quietly accumulating.

Christensen didn’t sit with that information. She wrote, lectured, taught, and spoke about chemo safety everywhere she could. She pushed for training. She pushed for better utilization of technicians. She pushed for culture change. And now, she’s helping lead the creation of AAHA’s newest oncology guidelines, designed to give every primary care team a roadmap to safer, more confident, more consistent oncology care.

One of the biggest shifts these guidelines address is the lack of clarity that made older USP chapters feel vague. USP 800 gets specific about what PPE is appropriate for injectable drugs versus oral drugs. It outlines expectations that are not suggestions, but standards. Yet because the chapter is not enforced in veterinary medicine, many clinics simply haven’t been exposed to it. Christensen believes that’s exactly where the breakdown has been. Not a lack of willingness. A lack of information.

That’s why the 2026 AAHA Oncology Guidelines matter so much. They address more than chemotherapy safety. They cover diagnosis and staging, surgical biopsy principles, new and emerging drugs, drug approval processes, and supportive care strategies that can keep patients stronger throughout treatment. They walk teams through client communication, setting expectations, and mapping out care plans that keep families informed instead of overwhelmed.

They also highlight something Christensen deeply cares about: technician utilization. Early in her career, she did not feel fully utilized. She saw how much more techs could contribute. She saw how powerful it could be for clients to hear directly from a trained oncology technician about what to expect after chemotherapy. When she asked to take on those conversations, the answer was yes. That yes changed the trajectory of her work, her confidence, and her impact.

Today, she helps lead a department where technicians are heavily utilized and deeply valued. They handle client conversations. They double check the math. They understand the nuances of oncology drugs and recognize adverse reactions quickly. They carry a meaningful share of the responsibility. And according to Christensen, that is one of the reasons her team is full of some of the happiest technicians she’s ever met.

Cancer is scary for clients. It can be scary for teams too. But with clear standards, strong utilization of skilled technicians, and guidelines that reflect the latest science, oncology does not have to feel like a specialty silo. Primary care teams can support these cases more confidently. They can keep themselves safer. And they can help families navigate something deeply emotional with empathy and clarity.

The 2026 AAHA Oncology Guidelines were designed for real-world practices. They are comprehensive but practical. They acknowledge the emotional and physical stress that oncology places on teams. And they bring a sense of order to an area of veterinary medicine that Christensen once called the Wild West.

As she puts it, the field is evolving fast, but we’re finally catching up. And thanks to leaders like her, we’re stepping into a future where oncology is safer, more informed, and more collaborative than ever.