I have been knuckling down
myself, volunteering in a hospital for almost eight weeks. That’s nearly two
months. And until now I really wonder how I was able to hold down close to
months of physical and emotional burnout of working 40 hours every week without
pay, and a slight amount of ill-humor from few random people around.
Honestly,
that is even far from other people’s experience. But one of the hardest parts
of getting through bad situations is when you reach the point where you can no
longer balance yourself well. It happened to me in the past few weeks.
I
belong to an entire generation of Nurses who after graduating and getting the
license hardly gets a paying job in the same profession. Or when we get a chance
we have to start from scratch and become a “volunteer”. It’s one of the
trending professional misplace these days. Even supposing, I still find it
okay. Sometimes we really have to start from the bottom to get to where we want
(the top).
There only came a point when I could no longer find my passion in what I was
doing. At times I become so ambivalent of whether my motivations for entering
into nursing were really right. Or if I ever had a wrong notion about it.
Going
on duty always seemed like a struggle each day. And often times I think of
quitting and never coming back to the hospital again.
When
my co-trainees ask me what my plans are after the training or if I’d still ever
want to work in the hospital, I stutter and trip over my words hoping to find
an answer I would not regret. But even I. Even I was racking to find my own
answer to the question.
I didn’t know what to do. I cried each night and found
myself always praying that I would never do any harm to my patients despite the
inner struggles I was having for weeks.
I’ve
never been this negative in the several years past. But adequate enough to say
that losing hopes amidst too much negative circumstance shots no one in
exemption.
