The subtle power of saying no

Saying no is not something we’re really programmed to do.

Vets are inherent caregivers, people-pleasers and largely pretty able. If you’re anything like me, saying no can leave you racked with guilt for not being more flexible or team oriented.

It’s taken me a long time to rationalise with my eager, fizzy little brain that “no” does not bring the world to an end. Sometimes, as a farm vet, it can save your life.

Embrace the negative

This doesn’t mean you have to say no abruptly or insensitively, but declining a request with a legitimate reason, or provision of an alternative idea (a constructive no, if you will), is perfectly allowable.

I’m not here to tell you to be belligerent for the sake of it; I’m here to tell you an alternative exists to putting yourself in danger, spreading yourself too thinly or inadvertently becoming an unhappy dogsbody. That alternative is better for your health and productivity than countless yeses ever will be, and it’s only one syllable.

Mission: Impossible

Desperate to be thought of as capable rather than awkward, I have, in the past, probably put myself in dangerous situations more often than Tom Cruise.

Requests to catch a skittish sow or casually calve a demented untethered heifer that “goes mad when you put a head rope on” have been met with acquiescence. I’ve placed trust in clients who said “she won‘t move” and “the bull’s fine“, and have climbed all manner of structures trying to sneakily jab animals that did not like to be touched.

What have I achieved from that? Accolades for world’s bravest vet? Sorry to be so meta, but: no.

Not worth the risk

My willingness to please has probably put me in mortal peril a few times, yet “no” didn’t creep into my professional vocabulary for years. Perhaps my self-preservation has kicked up a gear because I worry who will take care of my dog if I get mauled by a pig, or perhaps I’ve finally realised my well-being holds value and it isn’t worth risking for a client who refuses to provide safe handling for their animals.

Vets are incredibly adaptable and resourceful (we could go full Blue Peter with just one length of blue pipe), but we shouldn’t feel like saying no is a personal failure or a symptom of pathological snowflakery.

For example, if we don’t object to dangerous situations, there is no impetus for a client to upgrade that rusted crush that belongs in a Museum of Dangerous Things.

Stand your ground

The #DontBreakYourVet movement extends to all of us, so say no.

You don’t have to TB test that animal your client “can’t” or won’t move to a safer place. That means you, the new graduate, holding firm on safe practice; and you, the boss, not taking over a job an employee has rightly deemed unsafe for fear of upsetting a chuntering client.

You never know, if your “no” holds more clout, you could be responsible for a new handling system that saves someone’s life, or even a thumb.

Refusal shouldn’t offend

The power of saying no doesn’t just relate to facilities on farm though. “No” can serve you well in clinical and social settings.

• Agreed to perform a procedure you’re uncomfortable doing alone and now feel like a total idiot because you don’t know what you’re doing? No (with a reason) would have helped you out, and may have gotten you more support and training.
• Agreed to do unpaid overtime because it’s your colleague’s cat’s birthday, despite being exhausted? Should’ve said no. You need that sleep to be the best version of yourself you can be, and you’re not a bad person for putting yourself first once in a while.

If you remember nothing else, consider this: your well-being has value (as does your personal time), and if saying yes all the time chips away at that, say no. Used judiciously, it is not the barrier to progress you think it is.