Four Years Later

Labor Day, 2022

I laid in the hospital bed. In my own Emergency Department.

“Clear,” I heard the doctor say.

There was a pause.

Then, again, he said, “Clear.”

255 joules of electricity shot through my body while I was wide awake.

My arms and legs lurched skyward. My ears reverbed with a deep bass note that lasted for three seconds.

As I blinked away the shock (pun intended), my coworkers emptied out of the room.

I was okay.

Except, I wasn’t. Not really.

Ten years, hospital leadership, grief, moral distress, leadership conflict, and a worldwide pandemic had kicked my butt.

Recovery

My recovery has been slow, including 13 additional months in that job, followed by nearly three years in a new role.

Recovery has been

Mental | Emotional | Physical | Spiritual

Mentally, my brain was moving way too fast. Today, I am not in a hurry.

Emotionally, watching The Pitt two years after leaving healthcare resurrected feelings my mind had forgotten, but my body remembered.

Physically, regular meditation and nervous system practices have made me less twitchy and anxious.

Spiritually, I have been reminded where my value comes from.

The Keys

There isn’t one key to recovery. Here are some important steps that have been meaningful for me:

1. Recognition.
   I had to come face to face with my own limits. Admit I was feeling broken. And ask for help.

2. Renegotiation.
   I could not continue to work the same way I always had. My workaholism put me in the hospital and plunged me into depression. I had to renegotiate how I approached work.

3. Daily practices.
   Meditation. Gentle exercise. Mantras. Nervous system practices.

4. Remembering my value.
   It doesn’t come from production. It comes from presence.

5. Slowing my pace.
   After years in a Trauma Center, I was moving too fast. Even after I left that job, the habits of speed were hard to kill. Three years later, I still need reminders to slow down.

Tattoo Thyself

I might get a tattoo that says “IJAJ.”

That stands for “It’s just a job.”

Is it an important job? Probably.

Is it still just a job? Yes.

It’s not my life. It’s not my identity. It’s not my value.

It’s just a job.

And I am so much more.

Back to the Crash Cart

If I could go back in time, and see myself when I walked out of the ER on Labor Day, 2022, I’d meet him with a long embrace.

I know he feels empty. Trapped. Scared.

So, I’d hold 2022 Patrick until he was all cried out.

Then, I’d look deeply into his eyes. And I’d say, “I love you. Loving yourself is the way forward. Not white-knuckling it. Not working harder. Not ‘figuring it out.’”

Softness not hardness.
Compassion not competency.
Slowness not speed.
Desire not deadlines.
Bucket lists not to-do lists.
Alignment not doing everything right.

Why? Because you can, actually, after all, love yourself.