The past two years have been increasingly difficult both physically and mentally. And my ability to care for my patients is not at the level I would want to be.
I was burning out, broke my wrist, my mother died, my beloved cat died. I had to return to work before my wrist was sufficiently healed. My illness in December of '19 was Covid, part of the reason I dropped to 30 hours. Which helped, but I never fully recovered. I was in a lot of pain most of the time, my vision issues mean I am no longer safe scrubbing, my wrists stop me from doing chest compressions for CPR.
My CPTSD, always a lingering issue, was worsened by several difficult co-workers. I returned to my EMDR therapist, went on anti-anxiety medication, used a Bi-tapp machine, and made a lot of progress. I believe I made as much progress as possible, and most of the time I'm on top of it.
But over time, I realize that there will always be gaps, and some people will intentionally push me, and I cannot reliably manage to not react. Not when there are a lot of things happening and a patient's safety is involved. When I was taught the OR, pushing a hand away, rapping knuckles with an instrument, moving another person that was standing in the way in the midst of a trauma or positioning, was normal practice, not read as violent at all. I was taught to not take it personally and to learn from it. In the moment, I don't know that I can completely abandon this early training. I realize it is no longer the norm, but I also know that when my words fail, I will put my hand out.
I can cash out my PTO and will be allowed to apply for unemployment insurance I can leave with a modicum of grace.
I will be looking for work, but not today. Today I mourn.
9 comments:
Oh Zhoen...
Feeling for you, unable to offer anything other than good wishes from way over here.
You are the kind of nurse I would want on my side in the OT.
Protecting the patient whose safety is in question must surely come first, even if the urgent 'how' is not appreciated by others in the moment.
Your patients don't even know you did that for them. Some of your colleagues surely do, if not all.
Mourning of loss is entirely appropriate.
I am standing with a pint of quality ale in my hand, saluting you Z! And I commiserate with you, because this past year and a half I am feeling like a fish out of water at my workplace. The young ones accuse me of using too many gerund forms, for example, "out!" I suppose it's my way of "moving" them. We'll see how long I last.
I stand in agreement with GentleEye above. You are definitely the kind of nurse I would want on my side!
Prost!
The hardest thing is walking away from the life you have known. It takes a lot of courage and we know that you have that. Look forward to your next chapter.
Your post brought me near to tears this evening, dear Zhoen. I can only hope that your next stage of life will bring you as much pride as the last has. Blessings.
I'm in complete agreement with the above comments. This blogging contact is so unexpected - and wonderful that you can receive support from all over the world when you are brave enough to say (write) that you need it.
Take great care of yourself. You know that you have done, and will continue to do your very best in all aspects of your life.
Such a hard job. All the ones you mentioned. May you have rest and renewal and discovery in your immediate future.
You have been needing and wanting a change for a long time...but not like this. (((0)))
I’ve been reading and thinking in a number of ways about what it means to walk away from things. I’m sorry for all the difficulty. Fare forward.
Thank you all, you have no idea how comforting your support is. I have no words.
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