It’s 5 in the morning. I go out to start my car in negative temperatures as I attempt to mentally prepare myself for the one hour commute on anticipated icy roads and the 12.5-13 hour work day that will follow. Once arriving at the hospital and making my way up to the 4th floor, I feel a deep sense of repulsion in my core. ‘What am I doing here when I’d rather be anywhere but here?’ is the question that begins posing itself in my head over and over again. I walk over to the nurse’s station to grab a cursory glance at the board to see what my patient assignment is for the day… my last shift it was a teeange paraplegic with pressure wounds to his entire body that were constantly oozing fluid and required frequent dressing changes. A litany of curse words exited his mouth all day. How could I blame him? That day was one of the hardest I can remember. I see he’s still here in the ICU, but I’m assigned to a different room today. I feel a slight sense of relief, knowing that my emotional resiliency hasn’t fully returned. I proceed to the breakroom, find my cubby, and stuff my pockets with the essentials for the day — stethoscope, trauma shears, hemostats, penlight, pens, saline flushes…. my coworkers begin filtering into the break room and seem to openly express their lack of ambition and enthusiasm. The relatable dissatisfaction of the contingent is harmingly palpable. “I almost called in today… this place sucks the life out of me,” one stated. Not because she was physically ill, but because emotionally and mentally, she’s burned out. I never judge a coworker when they express needing a ‘mental health’ day being the reason for them not coming into work. Never. As we make our way out single file like cattle to the nurse’s station to take change of shift report, I notice the young woman who is unit secretary today is holding her shoulder, limping, and has a mask on. “Are you okay?” I ask her. “No, I hurt my shoulder and I have a head cold with body aches everywhere,” She responds.
I feel a rage welling up inside that I feel more and more lately. How is it that healthcare workers are supposed to fulfill the unrealistic and lofty expectations that establishments insist on? How are we to care for others before first caring for ourselves? Why do we live in a society that is so corrupted in the name of money and profiting that when someone is sick, they don’t stay home and rest but come into work because they feel forced to because of policy or fear of not being able to pay their rent? To me, a job implies dynamic that is black and white – an equal give and take – time and energy given in exchange for another form of energy, typically in the form of currency… but emotions aren’t black and white. Humans are not black and white.
Nursing is irrefutably one of the hardest ‘jobs’ in existence… yet how can it even be called a job? Sure, it supplies income, but how can one compartmentalize the emotions, vulnerabilities, tragedies, and stories of human beings, both the patients that are being cared for and the caregivers themselves in a way that makes it so that it doesn’t break you? The line between ‘job’ and ‘calling’ is blurred. It gets harder as time goes on… or rather, it gets harder to maintain an exemplary work ethic while still remaining open-hearted, tender, sympathetic, and passionate about what we do.
It’s not easy… performing chest compressions and breaking the ribs of an 89 year old woman who had stated in her wishes that resuscitation isn’t something she wanted, yet family refuses to say goodbye so instead they say, “do everything.” It’s not easy… watching a wife sob on her husband’s chest as he takes his last physical breath on this earthly dimension when you still have 10 more hours before you can go home to do your own form of grieving and reflection… then you’re told that you need to call the morge and get the body out of that room because there’s a trauma coming up in 30 minutes from ER.
It’s not easy… when a patient tells you that they are ready to die but no-one will honor what they want and continue pressuring them into taking one more pill, getting one more diagnostic test… or when a patient tells you they’re “afraid to die and need you to fix them.” It’s not easy maintaining a positive attitude when you know that there’s a high likelihood that you will be verbally abused or hit/kicked during your shift. I think many healthcare workers see the worst of humanity. It used to be so much easier to find the diamonds in the rough when I was a new nurse on the block, but resolve dwindles as days and months and years pass of one after another encounter with murder, substance abuse, suicide attempt, sodomy, rape, violence, self-neglect, chronic illness that could have been prevented… the list goes on.
When will we cease prolonging suffering in the name of pseudo heroic efforts that stroke our own egos and stand in reverence with dignity and nature? When will we say show up and say YES to both living and dying, knowing that one cannot exist without the other? The truth is that most of us are already dead. Having a heartbeat and a respiratory drive does not equate to aliveness, not when one is under the spell of 20 different medications, shoving McDonald’s down their throat, chugging vodka, chasing it with diet soda, and binge watching the latest season of their favorite TV show. The ways of allopathic and modern medicine do not empower people to take control of their health and wellness, or see the healing power in food, thought, action, and speech as an intermingled framework that manifests as medicine or toxic waste in the body. It’s time for medical schools and the paradigm of healthcare to give equal weight to nutrition and behavior changes such as anatomy, physiology, and pharmacology. Balance is key, as well as carefully tailoring care for the individual. Currently in America, we predominantly have a ‘sickcare’ system that masquerades as a healthcare system, where we often patch people up only to discharge them from facilities where they typically continue the habits that led to ill health in the first place. In my experience, many people expect medications to be the end-all-be-all panacea for all their ailments, without putting in the effort to make a change or take accountability for their health. Putting a band-aid on symptoms isn’t a sustainable or helpful solution. We must be willing to explore the complex layers underlying the issues if we want to truly perpetuate health and help people lead optimum lives of passion and vitality!
People are meant to live in their most vibrant, happy, loving state of being. This is our essence. Our birthright. By the time they arrive in the hospital setting, especially the ICU, apathy has usually taken over like a plague. They’re gullible and lazy. They just want a medication to be a spoon fed panacea for all their issues. How can a hospital that services cheeseburgers with french fries for lunch and soda loaded with cornsyrup and aspartame claim to be interested in the betterment of people’s health? I may be going against the grain by saying this as a Registered Nurse, but it’s true – I’ve lost all faith in our so-called healthcare system.
