114 | My honest reflections after 20 years of vet nursing (and what we should aim for next)

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Written By Laura Jones

In this episode, I want to share my brutally honest reflections on veterinary nursing - where we’ve been, how far we’ve come so far, and where I think we need to be heading next.

I’m so grateful that you’ve joined me for the final episode of veterinary nursing awareness month 2026. As I record this, we’re closing out a month where we come together as a profession to celebrate all we do, all we can do, and to shout loud and proud about our veterinary nursing skills, knowledge and care.

In the last few episodes we’ve shared the evidence, we’ve heard what our vets have to say, and we’ve chatted lots about what we can all do right now to get more from our careers. But now it’s time I sit down and have a proper chat with you about the lessons I’ve learned from almost 20 years in this profession. So grab a coffee and let’s catch up.

Twenty years is a long time to watch a profession evolve, and it hasn’t always evolved in the direction I expected.

I started as a veterinary nurse at seventeen years old. I was enthusiastic in a way that only seventeen-year-olds can be - the kind where you don't really know enough to be scared yet. Which, when I look back, was helpful in lots of ways, but also a bit worrying in many others. One of the biggest things that held me back early in my career was actually me. Some of this I’m sure was age, but I’m also sure that some of this was working in a clinic where nurses were still seen as ‘beneath’ other roles - I wasn’t ‘raised’ in a clinic where nurses really spoke up. 

For example, this scenario is one that I often reflect on.

Early in my SVN days, before I’d actually started college (I was waiting for the next intake), I was approached by the vet while I was on my break. He asked me if he could have a quick hand. Thinking I’d be a few minutes, I agreed.I followed him into the prep room and was asked to hold a cat, which I did. Assuming I was holding for a quick IV, I watched the vet induce her, then ask me to hold her for intubation, and then before I knew it, I was monitoring a GA.

My first GA.

On my lunch break, totally unaware of what I was doing, without another nurse around. It was a case of ‘put the dial on X, tell me what the heart rate is’ but the problem was that I didn't know what the numbers meant, and I didn't know what the dial was really doing. I was seventeen, with a short period of in-clinic training, no college, and a cat under general anaesthesia depending on me to monitor her safely and at the end of it, when the cat woke up, I felt conflicted. In some ways proud that I had done a GA and it had gone well, but mostly like I was put in a situation I should never have been in, and one that could have been really dangerous.I’m not saying this to drag the team I worked with, because they were genuinely great and I still enjoy seeing them around at events, but my point is that back then, that was the culture. In many clinics that was normal, just how things were done, and people didn’t question it. And that’s the biggest lesson I’ve learned from this situation - the need to speak up, confidently, question things, and be clear about what you can and cannot help with.Because if I don’t feel confident doing something now, or it’s been a while since I’ve performed a particular task, I don’t see my saying ‘no’ as a reflection on my skills. In fact, it’s the opposite - I’m a better nurse for making sure my patient’s needs are put first.

If I had the opportunity to go back and do it again, here’s how I’d approach that situation.

First, I’d say that I’m on my break! We definitely used to wear overwork like a badge of honour then, and I’m more aware that my looking after my own needs, I’m better able to care for my patients now. I’m not super rigid with my boundaries and I’ll still take shorter breaks to get things done when I feel I can, but saying ‘I’m on my lunch break currently, but if no one else is free I can help you in X minutes’ is no bad thing.Then, I’d make sure I know what I’m helping with. I’d ask what the vet’s plan is. If I didn’t feel like I was able to help (like in this situation, where I lacked the training), I’d say so. I’d ask if they could wait until the ops nurse was free, because I hadn’t done any anaesthesia get (even with RVN supervision).And if I could help, I’d still take 5 minutes to check everything was ready and where everything was, myself, so that I could confidently manage things if something went wrong.And if I was supporting a SVN in this position, I’d speak up for them. I'd say, gently but clearly, that this SVN hasn’t been trained to do this yet, and they need to be supervised by an RVN. Then I'd get them into that prep room for every anaesthetic I could, but with the right support, explaining what the numbers mean, what we're watching for, what’s normal, and how to intervene if there’s an issue. Learning should be an empowering process, not feel like you’ve been thrown in at the deep end, and every single one of us should speak up if it feels otherwise.

Veterinary nurses and confidence - where have we been, and what needs to change?

I also think that a big part of being seen as the skilled, knowledgeable professionals we are is having the confidence to really ‘own’ that.And for a long time I didn’t do that. For years - YEARS - every time I raised a concern with a vet, I used to almost apologise for it. I'd say things like ‘sorry to bother you, but I just noticed…’ Or I'd phrase it as a question when I actually had an important clinical observation to share. It felt almost like I needed permission to have a clinical opinion.And I understand why. I think a lot of us come into this profession with that instilled in us. That might be because of the culture in a clinic we were impacted by, or just the historical dynamic between vets and nurses, or maybe just our own personalities. We're caregivers, and we tend to put others first - and this is one of our best qualities as veterinary nurses. But it can also make us default to acting small in the moments when we need to take up space.What I didn't realise at the time, and one of the things that still makes me feel quite sad, is that every time I shrunk like that, I was reinforcing a story to myself. I was telling myself, without meaning to, that my opinion probably isn't worth much, or that I’m probably wrong, or that I’m wasting the vets’ time.

Over and over, without meaning to, I negated my own worth, my knowledge and my skills as a veterinary nurse. 

And the knock-on effect of that was people believed it. People around you pick up on your confidence, and when I portrayed that I didn’t believe in my own observations, my colleagues were less likely to take them seriously.Not because they were dismissive, but because I was telling them I was wasting their time. The moment I stopped apologising for my observations, or my clinical opinions, the way people saw me changed.Veterinary nurses are highly skilled, knowledgeable professionals with highly valid opinions to share. Without them, the rest of our colleagues can’t do their jobs - we all need each other and our patients need all of our collective brains. 

So please don’t apologise for your skills. You’re not wasting anyone’s time, and it’s far better to shout when you’re worried for no reason, than not shout when there’s a very very real reason to.

One of the most dangerous assumptions is that someone else knows all the answers - and I think we often default to feeling like that as vet nurses. But we’re all human beings, we all only have so much room in our brains for information, and we all need the thoughts, ideas, and opinions of others to do our jobs well. That’s the beauty of being a team.

The importance of believing in yourself as a veterinary nurse

If you’ve listened to other episodes, especially when this podcast first started in 2023, you’ll know I’ve often referred to myself as a bit of a square peg in a round hole.I felt like that for the first half of my career, and there was a time where that felt quite normal - and I think many vet nurses (myself included) think they need to ‘settle’ in a role rather than find one that really ignites their passion within nursing.There have been a couple of moments where, if things were different, I’d not be a vet nurse. This podcast wouldn’t exist, the patients I’ve advocated for wouldn’t have benefitted from my nursing, and my whole career would look very different.I had a conversation early in my career, in the branch clinic, with the head vet. I was in the x-ray processing room (slash lab, slash autoclave room) and if you've been in this profession long enough, you’ll appreciate how hard processing x-rays was back then. I was elbow-deep in a dark box, fumbling around trying to get a cassette open and process the film while unable to see what I was doing.At the time, I’d been struggling a lot with the training. I massively felt like I didn't fit in, not in that practice, not in the profession, not in any of it. I'd started wondering whether I was cut out for vet nursing, and whether I knew enough to be a good vet nurse.The head vet, my assessor at the time, saw me looking upset and asked me what was going on. So I told them. And they said something along the lines of ‘I agree, I’m not sure this is for you either.’I genuinely believe that they meant well, were trying to support me, and were giving me permission to leave if I needed to instead of feeling trapped. But at that moment, it confirmed those niggly self-doubts I had. So much so that I nearly left which ended up delaying my training by 6 months. I didn't, obviously. But not because of a sudden rush of clarity or a dramatic turning point - honestly I think it was more out of stubbornness, and not wanting to give up (as well as a really supportive head nurse from a local branch clinic who helped me see I could do this).  And I'm so glad it ended up working out OK, because if I'd walked out of the profession believing in those self-doubts, my life would look very different, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be as happy in my career as I am now.

The lesson here is that I wasn’t in the wrong, but I also wasn’t being honest about what I needed.

I didn't need to leave the profession, but I did need a different environment, more learning and a different kind of support, so I could believe that I was capable.Because the reality is that if we don't believe in ourselves, nobody else is going to do it for us. That vet wasn't being cruel, they were responding to the version of me that I was showing them. A version that of me that was full of self doubt and didn’t feel like she belonged.

You have to believe in yourself, your knowledge, your skills and your value because it is the biggest thing that will get you through your career. Please remember that.

Where have we come from as veterinary nurses, and how have things progressed so far?

Over the past almost twenty years I’ve seen our profession develop in so many amazing ways. We have better qualifications than ever before. We have access to specialist training, from VTS pathways, to certificates, to presenting and publishing research, to speaking at conferences. The standard of our SVN training has risen enormously. We have professional registration and accountability. We have nurses who work specifically in emergency, internal medicine, oncology, cardiology, neurology, ophthalmology, dermatology, I could go on… these were roles that didn't really exist for nurses when I was starting out, certainly not publicly enough for most VNs to know about.And all of that is amazing.

But despite that, there are still improvements to make.

And I have so much hope that these improvements are coming.For example - the legislation that governs what we do, the Veterinary Surgeons Act, was written in 1966. It is - and I'm saying this VERY aware of how wild it sounds - older than I am, by quite a bit. At nearly 60 years old, the Act is significantly outdated, and for most of my career, it felt like it was never going to change in my professional lifetime, but now we’re seeing progress. And I could not be more excited about it.The BVNA has been providing the sole veterinary nursing representation in a working group led by the UK Government, calling for long-overdue protection of the 'veterinary nurse' title, greater recognition and utilisation of the RVN skillset, clearer routes for RVN role progression (including the retirement of Schedule 3) and an overhaul of the current Act.Defra launched a consultation on reforming this act at the start of this year, and the RCVS described it as a once in a lifetime opportunity for us to dictate what comes next in our profession.And then in March 2026, the same month that consultation closed, the CMA published its final report on veterinary services. Which is a big deal for a lot of reasons, but for nursing specifically, it gave even more weight to the importance of our role. The CMA, in their report, called on the UK Government to protect our title and expand the legal scope of our role. This external regulator took a look at our profession and said that our title was important enough to protect, and that we need to be given more opportunities to reach our full potential. And not only that, they confirmed that our patients, their caregivers, and our profession needed that.That’s huge, and for me personally, I’d rather focus on that positive outcome from the CMA investigation than the fuel the investigation has added to the ‘vet-bashing’ fires popping up across social media.The truth is that we’re highly skilled, knowledgeable professionals and external bodies are crying out for us to be truly recognised as such.Title protection will come, legal reforms will come, and we WILL move even further forward as a profession. We’re so much closer to this now than we’ve ever been, and I can’t wait to see this develop further.

Veterinary nursing skills - and why I think using ‘cat castrates’ as the benchmark sends the wrong message

Don’t get me wrong, there are things we’ve moved backwards on over the past 20 years too. Cat castrates are probably the most talked-about example, though I’ve never done one in my life. I worked with nurses who used to do them all the time, legally, before the register was a thing. VNs used to do it, and that skill was taken away - and lots of people want it back.I totally understand why people do want it back, and I know many VNs online have spoken about nurses doing this again. No one wants to be de-skilled, or not have the opportunities to perform tasks they used to do regularly (and well).But, and this might be a bit controversial, I want to offer an alternative opinion on this. Because I think we've sometimes let that one procedure become a symbol for the things veterinary nurses can do. And for me, I’d much rather have a conversation with a vet where I can share my professional opinions (and have them respected) - or advocate for a feeding tube, or ask if we could start antiemetics - than castrate a cat.

In my opinion, I think we need to focus less on specific tasks, and focus more on where and how we apply our knowledge.

Sure, cat castrates are one way RVNs can do more, but there are so many more. Things like feeding tube placement. Making empowered nursing plans. Ultrasound. Running nurse-led clinics. Providing palliative care support. Allowing us to manage anaesthesia in a more nurse-led way. I could go on, but the list I’d come up with would need an episode in itself. My point is we can do much more than we think, and if think of our skills in specific practical tasks only, we’re massively selling ourselves short.The proposed reforms would replace Schedule 3 with flexible powers that allow the regulator to decide which veterinary acts can be undertaken by VNs, and under what conditions. This could remove the requirement for the delegating vet to work for the same employer as the nurse. And the wider implications of this are huge, because it would open the door to specialist qualifications and statuses that really do allow veterinary nurses to do more, though things like nurse practitioner roles or via community nursing.This is where I’ve personally wanted to see our profession go for a long time, because the scope of our role, the autonomy we have, the recognition of our profession in its own right will all improve as a result.

My final reflection: simple and easy are not the same thing, and ‘simplicity’ in our role is not always bad for our patients.

One of the biggest misconceptions I think we often see in our profession is the idea that the more technical something is, the more valuable it is.Now don’t get me wrong because I completely understand where it comes from and why this can be seen as a default. We've spent years fighting to be recognised as skilled professionals, not 'just' helpers, not 'just' the vet's assistant. Of course we want to highlight the difficult things we do. Of course we want people to know we can place a central line and interpret a blood gas and monitor a critical anaesthetic.But somewhere along the way, 'basic' nursing started to feel like a bit of a dirty word to some people. Like it's something you do until you're doing the 'real' stuff.I don’t think that could be any more untrue. And interestingly, this is something I’ve come to appreciate the most when I’ve worked in big clinics with lots of complex cases and ‘flashy’ things.In reality, the most important things I do for my patients in practice are the simplest-sounding things. Things like really examining my patients and flagging a concern, or changing up the way the patient’s kennel is laid out to make them more comfortable. Or taking the time to calculate how much they’ve eaten in the last 2 days. Or taking time to calm a nervous patient and build a relationship with them, so they trust me and I can nurse them effectively.

None of it is flashy but all of it is really important nursing care.

The fundamentals aren't the boring bits while we wait to do something impressive. They are the things that add up to make the biggest difference to our patients day to day. And a nurse who does the fundamentals brilliantly is not a veterinary nurse who hasn't learned enough yet, they are a one who genuinely understands what nursing is.Simple isn’t always basic, and I honestly think we need to spend more time celebrating those ‘simple’ skills.

Where will the next 20 years take veterinary nursing? Here are my predictions for the years ahead.

I genuinely think amazing things are coming for our profession. And while we’ve heard that change is coming for a long time, there really does feel like there’s more momentum behind it now.I genuinely think we’re heading for title protection, because there’s a huge weight of evidence behind the argument - not to mention some big professional bodies behind us.Similarly, I think we’ll see a VSA reform soon. And I can’t wait to see this recognise our skill set in its own right, and free us from always working under the direction of a veterinary surgeon at a practice. I’m excited to see how our community benefits as a result, as well as our wider profession.We're heading for a profession where clients know our names, know our role, and understand what we do. And after years of us being the ‘magical beings’ out the back doing the care without the awareness, I can’t wait to see this continue to improve.And we're heading for a profession where the question isn't ‘can the vet nurse do this’ but ‘who is best placed to do this for the patient right now’. And sometimes that'll be the vet, and sometimes it'll be the RVN with the experience and the relationship and the knowledge to do it better.I think we're heading for a profession where the SVN walking into that prep room for the first time isn't thrown in at the deep end, but is empowered to speak up when they’re concerned or say no if they feel unable to help. Where the culture is one of learning, not sink or swim.And I think we're heading for a profession where we believe - REALLY believe - that we are worth more than we sometimes act like we are.

But none of that happens on its own.

Because the legislation can change, and the title can be protected, but none of that means much if we're still apologising for raising concerns, or shrinking in the prep room, or deciding our opinions probably aren't worth saying out loud.The external conditions are finally catching up with where we actually are as a profession, but now we need to catch up with ourselves.Change happens when we speak up when something isn't safe. When we advocate for ourselves, even if it feels uncomfortable at times. When we invest in our own learning and push for the environment we deserve. And when we find our confidence and we use it, or when we nurture that confidence in the nurses we’re mentoring.

And it happens when we stop apologising for having a clinical opinion and trust ourselves.

My career as a veterinary nurse has tested me in ways I didn't expect and built me up in ways I couldn't have predicted. I've doubted myself in darkrooms, I’ve had moments where I thought I’d ruined my career forever by taking the wrong role, I’ve learned from patients and vets and nurses and students and from every uncomfortable conversation I finally stopped avoiding.Veterinary nursing has been the making of me - even though it’s been hard at times. Actually, especially because it’s been hard. So if you're somewhere in your career right now where things feel hard, or where you feel like the square peg, please hear me when I say that that feeling does not define you or your worth. It might mean you need a different environment, or more learning, or a better team around you, or it might just mean you haven't found your corner of this profession yet.What it doesn’t mean is that you don’t belong here. So happy vet nurse awareness month, and here’s to another 20 years of progress in our amazing profession.


Did you enjoy this episode? If so, I’d love to hear what you think. Take a screenshot and tag me on Instagram (@vetinternalmedicinenursing) so I can give you a shout-out and share it with a colleague who’d find it helpful!Thanks for learning with me this week, and I’ll see you next time!

References and Further Reading

Laura Jones
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113 | What vets REALLY think about veterinary nursing (ft Scott Kilpatrick)