Burnout Isn't a Buzzword—It's Why Nurses Like Me Are Leaving
Burnout Isn’t a Buzzword — It’s Why Nurses Like Me Are Leaving
I’ve talked a lot about how our broken healthcare system affects you as a patient. But today, I want to talk about what it’s doing to the people who care for you—nurses and doctors alike.
Let me start with something you might not expect:
We don’t have a nursing shortage.
We have a retention crisis. We have a burnout crisis.
We have a system that grinds down experienced nurses until we either leave the bedside—or leave the profession entirely.
I’m 62 years old. I would still be working in a hospital if the system wasn’t so broken. And I know I’m not alone.
Nurses my age didn’t “disappear”—we were pushed out by relentless workloads, lack of support, and a healthcare model that treats us like a resource to be extracted, not like essential people doing essential work.
A Personal Story From the Front Lines
Let me tell you about the last hospital I worked in.
I was working as a traveling nurse—13-week contracts across California. I loved it. I got to care for patients, avoid the politics, and then move on.
At one small rural hospital, I seriously considered staying on full-time. It was a 20-bed facility—the kind of place where you could actually know your patients.
But one day, I got an order for a medication that seemed off. The dosage looked high. So I did what nurses are trained to do—I checked. I called the pharmacy. They even gave me a higher-dose pill to reduce the number of tablets the patient had to take.
Five days later, I found out the dose was too much. The patient had side effects. And I was blamed.
Despite not prescribing the medication, despite double-checking with the pharmacist twice, my contract was canceled. No support. No recourse.
And I was done.
Done with being the last line of defense without being listened to.
Done with being overworked, under-supported, and treated as disposable.
This is just one of hundreds of examples I could give you. Every nurse I know has a story like this.
Burnout Is Baked Into the Business Model
Burnout in nursing isn’t about being tired—it’s about being used up.
Hospitals often frame staffing shortages as unfortunate, but let’s be honest: it’s part of the business model. When one nurse is expected to care for six to eight high-acuity patients, that’s not just unsafe—it’s profitable.
Fewer nurses on the floor = lower labor costs = higher margins.
It’s not an accident. It’s a system running exactly as designed.
And on top of that? We’re no longer just caregivers—we’re data entry clerks.
Nurses now spend hours a day charting in clunky electronic health records (EHRs)—clicking boxes and documenting every interaction, not to improve patient care, but to protect the hospital from liability.
I’ve had to choose between charting and comforting a patient in pain more times than I can count. And in today’s system, if it’s not charted perfectly, it’s as if the care never happened.
And that’s just one layer.
Most hospitals don’t even have unit secretaries anymore.
When I started nursing, there was a designated person to answer phones, route calls, and coordinate tasks between departments.
Now, all of that falls to the primary nurse—on top of:
- Medication administration
- Hands-on patient care
- Admissions and discharges
- Emergencies
- Family communication
- And nonstop documentation
We’re expected to be caregivers, charting specialists, tech troubleshooters, and front-desk staff—all at once.
Now add in the complexity of caring for elderly patients, chronically ill patients, and underserved communities.
The system isn’t just strained—it’s untenable.
We’re Not Leaving Because We Don’t Care
Over the past decade, I’ve seen incredible young nurses walk into this profession full of compassion, intelligence, and drive.
And then… they leave.
Hospitals might offer bonuses, mentorships, even therapy. But nothing can fix a system that’s broken at the core.
Even second-career nurses—those who came to this work with purpose—often burn out within 3 to 5 years.
People used to ask me all the time:
“How have you done this for 38 years?”
The honest answer is… I’m not really sure. I had a system that worked. I was deeply passionate about the work, and advocating for patients was always what kept me going.
There was one especially rough stretch where I thought about getting a tattoo on my forehead that just said, “Whatever.” That was my survival mechanism.
I made it through 38 years by being a voice for my patients while understanding the limits of what I could change inside the system.
I loved being a nurse. Still do.
And that’s why The Art of Being Ill was born.
Because I’m not done nursing.
I just needed to find a new way to speak up, share what I’ve seen, and make a difference—without someone telling me I can’t.
Gen Z Is Doing What We Couldn’t
There’s this stereotype that Gen Z doesn’t want to work.
That’s false.
They just refuse to be sacrificed to a system that offers no protection, no respect, and no recovery. They’re setting boundaries. They’re demanding support. And they’re walking away when it doesn’t come.
They’re doing what many of us wished we could have done.
Meanwhile, in 2023, over 78,000 qualified nursing applicants were turned away from programs because we don’t have enough instructors, clinical placements, or funding.
We’re not short on people willing to serve.
We’re short on systems willing to protect them.
Let’s Be Honest About What’s Really Happening
This isn’t a nurse shortage.
This is a system-level failure.
And if we want to fix healthcare, we have to start with the people holding it together.
Stay tuned—because this crisis isn’t limited to nurses.