Goodbye 2021, Hello 2022

That image is so apropos. I got rid of the mask and syringe this year.

The mask and the syringe to me not only represent the pandemic. I was a bedside RN for 16 years. Starting 2020, I was wearing a mask for 12 hours at work except when eating, at times wearing a N-95 mask trapped for hours inside a Covid room taking care of a confused delirious patient experiencing hypoxemia.

During the early months, some staff who would briefly forget about precautions (e.g., running into the precaution room to prevent a confused patient who suddenly stood up from falling to the floor or pulling his/her tube out) would accidentally get exposed, and would then have to quarantine for two weeks. I picked up a lot of extra shifts during 2020, not only to help with the staffing but also to increase my retirement contribution (I am now 52, and I started late at age 49 in my financial independence journey, but that's a separate, although very related, topic for the turn of events for 2021).

By January 2021, I was tired. Drained. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. I made a decision to NEVER pick up any extra shifts anymore. I struggled to ignore the need for help at my unit. Teamwork was deeply embedded in me. It had to be; it was the only way a hospital crew could survive a nightmarish shift. But this time, I had to think of my own health. I witnessed one RN (from the ER) became psychologically unstable (her FB posts were very telling). I realized the extent of the impact of the pandemic on HCWs. It was bad enough to see the impact on laypeople -- the increase in alcoholics or druggies or suicide patient admissions on top of the Covid admissions, but to see some of the most resilient demographic be gravely affected was mind opening.

And you know how much hazard pay we got? NADA. ZIP. My coworker's mom who was an accountant working from home got hazard pay!

I witnessed increased dissatisfaction amongst coworkers, burnout (including me) so rampant. Coworkers getting snappy at each other, and at times losing patience with patients, who understandably only think of how bad they had it. Then came August when it was time for pay raises; we got anywhere from 4% to 13%. None of us bedside nurses had three-figure income. Heck, if not for my shift differentials and OTs, my income would not reach $80K even after my 13% raise.

Having grown up in a third world country, I am quite resilient. However, I also recognize my own needs. When I was still in the Philippines taking care of sick children, while seeing my own children only on weekends (our home was in the suburbs; I was working in the city, sleeping at the clinic I was working at), I realized I needed to be with my children more and they needed me. I made a decision to work here in the US so I could be with my children during their formative years (the most critical years in their lives). I needed to be a hands-on parent.

Now, recognizing my own need to get out of this physically, psychologically, mentally draining job, I decided to leave bedside nursing for good. By March, I planned my exit. I looked at my finances and decided I could stop contributing (aka, CoastFIRE) to my 403b and still be able to retire at age 70 on leanFI lifestyle, as long as I work enough to be able to pay my monthly bills. That meant I could work at a grocery store doing menial tasks. Not really attractive for someone who loves learning, but better than nursing. At this point I was so burnt out that I wanted to totally leave my nursing career.

Sometime in July, I saw the 5-day Salesforce Challenge by ChooseFI and started it. By Day 2, it was a lightbulb moment. "This is it!" I signed up for the Talent Stacker Salesforce Career Development Program, committed to make this work.

I was able to set aside money every paycheck into my Voyager account and converted that to USDC for the high 9% interest rate. I submitted my resignation first week of September, giving my manager enough time to plan and look for a replacement. I was one of the two more experienced night shift nurses still working in our community hospital at the time. All other nurses had barely a year of experience. I precepted the new nurses. By the time I got my last paycheck, the money I was able to set aside was enough to pay my bills for more than a year. It was empowering having the FU$! It enabled me to leave a thankless and highly stressful job where admin kept throwing empty praises at us for our sacrifices, but never properly rewarded us nor properly protected us.

When I started networking with my TS family and others in the Salesforce ecosystem, I fully realized how overworked, underpaid, and underappreciated HCWs are. We are highly skilled slaves to even the most uneducated and poorest members of society, yet our pay was not commensurate to our skills. (Have you tried taking care of your demented sick family member using a Foley cath or ostomy and needing IV antibiotics or parenteral/tube nutrition? I dare you to do that for a month, and let me know how much you are willing to pay yourself for that work, and see how much you are willing to pay a private nurse for that.)

I have taken care of a lot of patients in the past 16 years, met some of the most inspirational patients, and there was tremendous fulfillment. But now it is time for me to take care of ME.

While the transition to tech is not easy, I am up to the challenge, especially with the full support of my Ohana.

I miss my coworkers, the adrenaline rush of surviving a hellish nightmare saving someone's life, and the sense of family we had. I miss the nice patients who did not treat the hospital as a hotel, and whose family was thankful for our service. That chapter of my life will always be cherished. Bye-bye nursing career.

Hello, Salesforce and my Talent Stacker Ohana! I may have only been with you since August, but I already see that I can thrive in this ecosystem. I am loving the pivot and looking forward to what 2022 has in store for me!