The Truth About Service: It’s All a Lie

Findyourfork
3 min readNov 5, 2021

Lose yourself in the service of others.

Well I did it. I lost myself completely.

There was a time at the beginning where I was eager and amendable. I walked through the fluorescent-lit hallways with a perspective that borderlined on naïveté. I graced every room with a 1000-watt smile and a flair for fanfare. I spoke with a curiosity that highlighted my willingness to validate my worth.

At the beginning, I was devoted to setting my intentions before the beginning of my shift.

At the beginning, I was determined to set myself apart in an environment prone to toxicity and disillusionment.

At the beginning, I was excited to embark on an adventure that would set the pace for the rest of my life.

But that was then.

This is now.

Time to spill the tea on the realities of working in the trenches during the pandemic.

I don’t recognize myself anymore.

She looks like me. She sounds like me. But I don’t know if she is me.

Over the course of the past couple of years, I have learned that losing yourself in the service of others is not an heroic gesture. It is a form of romanticized altruism that has been associated with the profession since the beginning of time.

The reality?

Waking up hour after hour after tossing and turning all night in your sleep.

Listening to the phantom echoes of alarms going through your head.

Slipping into bouts of sadness as you wish, just for one minute, to step away from it all and just breathe.

Watching as your personality and humor warps into something that is unrecognizable.

It’s easy to ignore these realities and brush them aside. I’ve done it. For years.

And in the middle of it all, I’ve allowed myself to be spit on, kicked, shoved, and verbally abused all with a smile on my face.

We find pride in surviving and emerging through these unspoken hardships. It’s a rite of passage to have made it this far and have continued to persevere.

But can I be honest?

It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted.

For years we’ve been guilted to press on in the name of teamwork. We’ve been encouraged to do more and more with less. We’ve been told it’s alright when it’s not. We’ve been told to push and push and push.

And what have we learned?

That we are now numb. That we feel nothing. That we feel everything.

That we are dispensable.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t value every experience that I had: good or bad. It has led me to where I am today. And it has given me a fresh perspective on what I am willing to sacrifice and tolerate.

But one thing is for certain: the bond between co-workers is unmistakable and irreplaceable.

We have stood side by side with our forearms coated with fresh warm blood as we push to bring back the dead.

We have cried as we shared tears over the loses we could not save.

We have laughed in the face of hardships knowing that we have each other to lean on.

This year, Nurses Week seems rather oddly celebrated. During a year where we have fully given ourselves to our profession, our appreciation boils down to the gift of a rock. During a year where we shared in our blood, sweat, and tears, we were handed a Q-tip and a water bottle and thanked for our service.

It’s hard to feel valued, does it not?

If anything, this year has taught me the value of acknowledging yourself and your limitations. Seeking and asking for help is a sign of strength. It reminds you that you are human.

So I press on: freshly renewed in my newfound strength. Knowing that I am not in this alone and that others are there beside me. I have found peace in remembering why I have chosen this profession all those years ago.

And I am here.

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Findyourfork

She’s a writer. She’s a photographer. She’s a nurse. But most of all? She’s a storyteller. Her work has been featured in Edible Magazine and 614 Magazine.