I believed that entering the biggest government hospital in the city as a freshly graduated nurse was one of my biggest achievements in life. The first few days were filled with excitement, and only a tinge of nervousness. I was too hyped about learning what the real world had to offer me at that time. Imagine working in a place where everything is fast-paced, and tending to and watching over a group of people from different walks of life, all struggling to make their life worth living.
During the first few months I learned a lot of things, from various medical cases to administering oral and intravenous medications. Everything was fleeting and exciting.
The first few people that I met were very accommodating and willing to teach me things that were so new to me. One friend taught me how to do proper suctioning for a patient with an endotracheal tube (a kind of tube inserted through the mouth to provide a patient with a more reliable source of oxygen), which is connected to a mechanical ventilator (a machine that helps a patient breathe) or a continuous bag valve mask.
I tried to learn everything all at once. But as I struggled to accomplish every task that was given to me, I began to notice something unexpected happening. I was not aware that my senior nurse was watching my every step and making mountains out of molehills when she found something she did not like. Of course, I was expecting to be taught in a professional way, the way most senior nurses are expected to do. I tried to remain patient — until it came to a point that can only be called bullying.
In six months I had to go through all the bullying to keep my first job. I spoke with my superiors regarding the matter, hoping that this kind of leadership would be amended and changed. But a year later, the same thing happened.
There was even one time when I had to miss work due to a family health emergency. My senior nurse asked me to choose: Which was more important, my work or my family? They made it sound like I had been given an ultimatum.
And I was moved. I was moved that they had the audacity to question me about things that were obvious just because I was absent. But I had informed them ahead of time, and they had
given me permission. I had thought everything was clear, but six months later, they used it against me.
They rated me as a staff member who was unsatisfactory. Perhaps I was not able to satisfy their expectations, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I did not need to be defined by one mistake.
No matter how much effort you put into becoming the best version of yourself, if you do not have the personality that pleases them, you will never be enough. They will judge you based on your one mistake, and forget about the hundred other things you did right.
This government hospital is the most toxic place, not because of the workload, but because of the people whose minds are gripped by crab mentality. They are not happy when someone succeeds. They pull them down, make them wonder whatever they did wrong, and bully them until they decide to quit.
That was what had happened to me. I decided to quit because I did not deserve this kind of toxicity. I decided to quit because I wanted to professionally grow in a place where I could excel and, at the same time, be respected, not just as a nurse, but as a person.
I hope my story will make them realize that a novice does not deserve to be bullied just because expert nurses can perform tasks better. They need to be leaders with a heart to touch other people’s lives.
People will forget the things you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel.
* * *
Katrina Angelica Nillas, 24, is from Talamban, Cebu City.