Feeling fully recovered from whatever illness had knocked me down so thoroughly, it was time to get back to work. An opportunity presented itself for our children to attend a fantastic private school 45 minutes away and there happened to be a busy Community Health Center just blocks away from the school that was hiring nurses. The health benefits were fantastic and the staff seemed friendly and supportive. It was too perfect.

I got the job, the kids attend the after school program at school, and despite a few challenges with the timing, we have been able to make it work. The long days are challenging, for the kids primarily, but also for me. With the long drive into and back from town, we end up being away from home for over 13 hours, leaving little time for anything other than dinner and showers when we get home. But the job seemed challenging and new and the kids were getting an undoubtedly fantastic education so it seemed worth it.

Then the new-job honeymoon began to wear off. I was picking up the routine quickly so I was assigned to a provider a month and a half into my three month training period. The stress is absurd, there is never enough time to the give the patients the attention they deserve nor to complete all the miscellaneous tasks – something I discovered all the nurses and providers alike coped with on a daily basis. As the doctor (also new to the company and learning via crash-course) and I learned together and developed a system to be as efficient as we could be, we were scheduled with more patients.

Having worked the last 5 years for Hospice, a non-profit, I was new to the system of health care as a money maker. From the higher ups, the emphasis is placed on ‘providing quality care’ to the maximum amount of patients in order for the clinic to maybe make enough profit to stay up and running. This quality care is intended to occur over a 20 minute visit – an absurd notion in my opinion anyhow – but this is assuming the patient arrives 20 minutes early as instructed (which rarely happens) so that the nurse (that’s me) can collect all the information, vital signs, conduct the surveys, collect history, etc to prepare for the visit with the doctor, so that their time can be as productive and helpful as possible.

Ok. So let’s imagine that system works smoothly. Let’s assume people arrive on time, the doctor is able to address their needs in 20 minutes, and we are able to see the recommended 18 patients a day in order to make enough profit to make admin happy. This does not take into account the time it takes to accomplish the behind the scenes work; the prescriptions, the referrals, the extensive research needed to diagnose patients, the authorizations needed for MRIs, CTs, physical therapy, medical equipment, pre-op documentation… it goes on and on.

I’m rambling. The issue is, there is never. Enough. Time. It doesn’t feel like quality care when you hardly have enough time to make eye contact with your patient, to listen to their pain, to nod sympathetically when they break down in tears from frustration when they feel like no one can help them, to give them a hug when they explain their fear of dying, to blow up a glove balloon for their toddler so you can give them a moment to breathe. The patients are frustrated, angry, sad, scared and sometimes they take it out on me. And that’s ok, I can take it. What I can’t take is the feeling that I cannot do a darned thing to help them. What brings me to tears when I get home is the feeling that despite all my lost sleep, weight gain, suffering health and emotional turmoil – I am not making a difference.

So I have been praying. A lot. I have asked God for a more positive attitude – to help me focus on the good, to not let the stress bring me down. I pray for the strength to be good at my job and still have the energy to rock mommy-hood and be the supportive loving wife my awesome husband deserves. I pray for guidance – for God to place me where He needs me to be so that I am doing His work. This job has not yet felt like where God wants me to be. Fostering felt like God’s work (we are still certified), this job does not.

The physician I work with has also been stressed and frustrated for similar reasons. Today it came to me; my purpose. It is not up to me to heal these people. It is up to me to do my job thoroughly and efficiently so he can help heal these people. I will encourage and support, while staying as upbeat as possible and continue to do my job the best I can. It seems so simple, so obvious; yeah, duh, my purpose is to do my job. But it’s more than that. I think I have been placed in this position not to move mountains, but rather to support the movers. I will stick it out. I will learn what I can and help who I might. This is a hallway – another door will open and I will be ready for it; wiser and full of gratitude.