One Year, Not A Nurse.

Tam reminded me the other day (June 12th) that it was my one year anniversary of leaving St. Charles. I have a lot of mixed feelings about this, but mostly relief. I do miss nursing work, it’s just the job I can’t stomach anymore.

Metrics, unnecessary screenings, monitoring wait times, poor policy for managing dangerous patients, dangerously low staffing, loss of nurse autonomy, increased demand on less nurses: these are just some of the ways that the job has been ruined by hospital administrators and managers that have business degrees and have never been bedside caregivers.

I won’t go too far down this path. That is a rabbit hole I will have to go down another time.

I do really miss the work, though: the interactions at the bedside, the human element, the critical thinking and problem solving, the pride in having the skills to help people in need, and the satisfaction of working with a high-functioning team of good people.

Someday I will find my thatched hut clinic on a small island, where I get payed for my nursing work with a live chicken or a smile. That is when I will know for certain that I am doing the work.

And it won’t be a job.

I spent my one-year anniversary day hanging out with Tam in a thatched hut on the beach, kiteboarding in a beautiful place, and even had a beer after.

Perfect.

Anniversary darkslide on the flatwater of Kappaladi Lagoon, Northwest Province, Sri Lanka