Someone is waiting to speak to me on the phone. A patient is waiting in the lineup for their question to be answered. Another one said they’ll be back in 15 for their medication. I haven’t touched the latter issue, because well, it’s still in the queue, but I’ll make it happen, as I promised, in 15! An assistant said XYZ medication is back-ordered, what should we do? While I’m still trying to process the glitched prescription in my computer, and looking up for answers to a step in that process, and I also haven’t forgotten the patient waiting in the lineup for their question to be answered, I must know that answer! Or the one still waiting on the beeping phone, this one was here, for the first time, three weeks ago, and he was asking me if I remember his case? Yes, I do.

I haven’t heard back from the senior with many chronic illnesses and with many more medications on his plate. Yesterday, he came in to have his medications sorted out in a pill organizer, so he could remember which to take when. He’s been feeling lightheaded and becoming more forgetful lately. Could it be that new sleeping pill that he started lately? I offered him a refresher to talk about his medications and how they are related to his medical conditions. He wasn’t feeling very well at the time. He didn’t want to miss his afternoon nap, and he already surpassed his lunchtime. “I’ll call you later to schedule a time where I could come sit and talk about my health state and medications,” He said.

Today, I just received a fax from the hospital requesting his medication profile. He’s been hospitalized.

Oh No!

But, I’m glad he made it to the hospital. He lives alone. His only one son moved out of town with his family, 3 hours flight to the north, for work.

Let me lookup his medication list and fax it right away to the hospital. I pray he’ll be taken care of, gets well, and that I would see him in the best shape here soon.

In the meantime, my regular noncompliant patient, who relapsed multiple times in the past few months and disappeared for a while comes back again. I feel sad because she can’t hold it together, but, then I think that she is still trying and that’s a good restart. She frustrates me with her attitudes. She won’t listen to my advise, nor take her medications as supposed to. She came to ask me for an old prescription of a controlled medication that she once had, a long time ago. This prescription is expired and it’s no longer relevant because she needs a recent medical assessment and a new script, accordingly. She got angry at me. She puts her health at stake. Then I remember that she has mental illnesses, she can’t help it, not that she doesn’t want to. There are all these consuming concerns that whirl inside my head. Because I care. And finally, I take it easy, and recharge my thoughts; I’m here to help the best I could.

The excitement hasn’t stopped. I just received a request to get a special compound medication from my patient who wanted it to be ready today because she’s leaving town tomorrow morning.

“But dear, we don’t have all the ingredients in stock, I just checked. I will check if it’s available and we could order them, but that won’t guarantee it today either, we receive them in the morning, and it might take another hour to compound. Do you want me to check if another nearby colleague could have it done quickly for you? I could make a few phone calls to check, if you want.” I told her.

“I’ll be leaving just before noon tomorrow, so if you could get it ready by then, that would be great?” she responded.

“We’ll do our best.” I said. Then, she leaves counting on my word.

I need to research the compounding procedure, I need to find the right resources, it is not a familiar prescription. I don’t have time right now. We are busy. I need to come earlier in the morning or research it during my break that I haven’t had a chance to take yet. I’m committed to resolving it, as I always would, and have been.

It’s getting late at night, near the end of my shift, we are closing in less than 5 minutes, and here shows up a young single mother with her 22 months old baby. She’s not sure what to do with his persistent fever since the morning.

“Please help me, I’m lost, I can’t drive to the hospital right now, you are the only one available nearby my house,” She says.

“Don’t worry, we’ll manage this together. Let me ask you if you’ve done a rectal temperature check? And what was the result?” I said.

“Yes I did, and it was 38.6°” She responds.

“Okay. That’s high! Have you tried to reduce the fever?” I said.

“I tried with a wet cloth. I also still have Advil and Tylenol from last month” She says.

“What happened last month?” I responded.

“He had a sudden fever like this one, but I was able to take him to see the doctor, he had an ear infection, and he got an antibiotic prescription along with these two medications.” She responded.

“Then probably he’s having another episode, it’s very common in children. Don’t worry! Let’s give him the medications that you have to reduce the fever tonight, I’ll get his weight, so we could calculate his right dose, and I’ll give you measuring syringes to give him more accurate doses. He should be fine until the morning, you could make a trip to the doctor then. I want to make sure everything is alright so please leave me your contact information, I’ll get back to you tomorrow, and here’s mine in case you needed anything from me.” I said

I don’t panic, or go crazy, everything is well under control, and well organized amid this chaos, all issues were handled professionally, logically, and compassionately, and with a smile on my face. Stimulating environments are what I like to thrive in. But, overstimulation is negative.

Training? Toughening? For how long? Why inhumane?

Redirecting? Implicit bias? Abused by some?

Where is this taking us to?

My characteristics are not in-humanistic. On the contrary, the superwoman duties that I do as a healthcare provider renders me inhuman in the eyes of those who still can’t see my value. I’m more than happy to hang in there, but I also want to be proud of who I am and change the broken culture that retries to im-balance my being as a person, as a human.

We swim hard with the tide, that we agreed upon. To swim for the higher cause. But, we also choose to swim much harder against the bad tide that accompanies it at the same time. The chaotic mind games that want to strip our humanness away.

Yes, I’m qualified, competent and efficient. I worked hard to be here, and I work harder to serve and to improve. I compete against me. I’m a life long learner, a scholar. I’m sensitive, empathetic and compassionate. I’m kind and one of a kind. I collaborate and respect my peers and colleagues. I voluntarily donate my time and my energy. It’s my commitment to serve and help others.

But my wellbeing is for me. Sorry not sorry, but my wellbeing is for me, and only me.

As a person, I’m not a project of sacrifice. As a professional, in order to hold on, for my patients, to serve better. Yes, I deserve basic human rights; to have a break, to be smiled to, to be welcomed, and cheered for, to be compassionate with, to be appreciated, and treated with dignity. To have my personal and professional boundaries respected.

I adore the culture that trains me to be the best professional I could be, and never stop improving, but at the other extreme drains my resources as a person without remorse. I’m against it.

Yes, I’m a healthcare provider, but I’m still a human.

This is me.

Us.

Healthcare providers.

Disclaimer: Events mentioned in the post are real practice inspired stories. The phenomenon of Burn-Out is prevalent in healthcare, and will be discussed in detail, in the future.

Photos credit: Woman photo created by Racool_studio – www.freepik.com