July 17, 2022
What will I tell stories of, when I am older? Will I tell stories of the 12 hours shifts I used to work, and how I got no breaks? Will that story come from a place of honour and pride?
Or will it tell as a tale of caution?
Are we, as health care providers sitting frogs? Have we been sitting, while the water gets hotter and hotter, asking each other “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” while looking around to see if anyone else is as uncomfortable as you.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s a little warm, but it’s not that bad.”
And then when the water is boiling, and some of us are scrambling, screaming, “We need to get out, or we’ll all die!” and everyone else says:
“Don’t be such a softy, this is soo worth it!”
The water was getting warm long before 2020. In 2006 in my “Intro to Nursing” class (not an intro to nursing at all) we were told we were going to be in a nursing shortage. But I believed our class, and the graduates after us, would be the ones to HELP with that shortage. I didn’t know it would be US working short all. The. Fucking. Time.
The Health care system is the hot water. And we are the frogs just trying to survive.
Society is gaslighting us, telling us we are HEROES! We get free coffee and free donuts and pizza. But there are no systemic changes. We don’t get paid more. We don’t get a guarantee of any break in a 12 hours shift.
I do not feel like a hero at all. I feel like a failure.
I feel as though my entire life’s work the last (12) years of my career have been for nothing because I want to quit. Because wanting to help people isn’t enough anymore. The systemic barriers I face every day, that prevent me from giving the best patient care that everyone deserves, has broke me.
The day I almost crossed the street before looking either way for traffic, I realized something was wrong. No, I wasn’t suicidal. Just… indifferent. Apathetic. I didn’t have it in me to care about one. More. Thing.
I sit at night thinking, “I’ m not good enough. I’m not strong enough. I’m not resilient enough.” On good days, I’m able to redirect those thoughts to all the shit I HAVE overcome. And I tell myself, I AM fucking resilient.
During 2020, the nursing self care bullshit really picked up. Wow, finally it was okay for us to take care of ourselves?! Thanks for your permission! But only after you work 5 12’s this week, with only enough time to pee (once) and stuff some food in your face (once) and THEN you can practice self care.
I have been in therapy and practicing what I believed was self care* before 2020. For me, it wasn’t enough.
My self care had to start including the word “no.”
And it had to start with finding out who I am outside of being a nurse- because I knew my time as a nurse was limited. Less overtime, meant more time for me.
Will I tell a story of the straw that broke the camels back? No. Because it wasn’t one straw. It was a series of straws that broke my back.
*more on real self care to come
If you are experiencing signs of burnout, please, reach out for help. Talk to a trusted supervisor, your Employee Assistance Program, myself or someone else about what you are experiencing. Burnout and Vicarious Trauma do not get better on its own.
To determine if you are experiencing burnout or vicarious trauma (or at high risk), take the self assessment here:
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