Marshmallows and Burnout (A Traveler's Perspective)

MattRN95

New Adventure

Being a travel nurse for eight years was one of the most challenging and personally rewarding experiences of my life. On my journeys I laughed many times, cried more than a few, and was transformed as I cared for cardiac, burn, and trauma patients in 18 hospitals nationally. My journeys took me from the beaches of South Florida to the New York area (just before 9/11), to lively Austin, hot Arizona, hip West Hollywood, and dazzling Las Vegas.

Packing up my 1997 Jeep Wrangler and beginning a new adventure always excited and scared me at the same time. I guess it was the unknown that held the allure. Never knowing what the provided housing was going to be like, how the new city would feel, how the unit at the hospital was going to function, and what unruly physicians I might encounter. It was all so wonderful...for a while.

The Open Road

One of the inspirational and profound aspects of being able to travel by car was the joy of getting on the open road and simply driving. Not five or six hours, but twenty-two to twenty-eight hours. Those really long cross country drives allowed significant amounts of time to simply think.

As my Jeep buzzed from large city, to suburbs, to the outskirts, to the vastness of what seemed like nothingness, I reveled in the simplicity of just being behind the wheel. Driving was very purifying and allowed me to escape, to expand my mind, and to see my life from a new perspective.

After I accepted an assignment in Scottsdale, Arizona I once again found my place on the mind clearing open road. As I journeyed from the Midwest through the nation's breadbasket to western Texas and into New Mexico, I began to see a parallel between the changing landscape and the development of my own burnout.

The start of my journey was fresh, new and forest green much like the cornfields of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. But as I soldiered on, the newness and initial joy I once experienced began to fade to a muted and stale tan color, much like the rocky and dry, deserted plains of western Texas. As I made my way into the Southwest, I was amazed at the beauty of the variegated rocks that were millions of years old. I was struck by the starkness, isolation, and harshness of the landscape that mirrored myself. Could I see beauty in my own burnout like the stunning beauty of what was right outside my dusty Jeep window? Was that even possible?

Head in the Sand

But instead of listening to my heart and refilling my tanks, what did I do? Likely the same thing that others do, I stuck my head in the sand, ignored the feelings of being burned out and continued on. Isn't that what we as nurses as supposed to do? Pretend it doesn't exist, ignore its nasty effects, be a martyr and soldier on.

No wonder burnout causes so much destruction because we're far too busy (taking orders, giving meds, documenting everything under the sun, being a patient advocate, being screamed at by doctors and family members, having an excessive number of patients among a ton of other responsibilities) to pay attention to how we are really doing, to how we are caring or not caring for ourselves, and to how we are coping with a highly stressful work environment.

The Beach

One of my last travel nurse assignments was in Orange County, California with its sweeping and majestic views of the Pacific. I worked on a busy telemetry unit with an endless flow of patients being admitted from the Emergency Room. But my favorite part of being in Orange County was the beach. Ahhhh...the beautiful and warm sands of Huntington Beach seemed to call my name even when I was admitting patients. I can still hear the seagulls crowing and the waves lapping on the shore. I wasn't into surfing, I was into having beach bonfires and eating really tasty food. My favorite was bacon wrapped shrimp. Yum!

Around the circle of the beach bonfire typically sat between ten to fifteen other hungry nurses who obviously enjoyed the beach as well. They really seemed to savor every minute just being there, being away from the craziness of their units, away from the business of their Southern California lives. Simply away. That's what the beach bonfires provided.

As the evening drew to a close, others started to rustle around in their bags of beach treats and pulled out making for S'mores. I have always loved them, especially the warm sugary goodness of chocolate mixing with a perfectly golden marshmallow that oozes out the side when you bite through the graham cracker. Perfection!

Everyone knows the first step to creating that delicious treat is to roast the marshmallow carefully. I watched as everyone skewered their marshmallows and hovered them over the flames. A few of the nurses payed close attention to ensure their marshmallows were toasted to a perfect golden brown, some only occasionally glanced down at their marshmallows, and some didn't pay any attention at all. Screaming and yelling quickly ensued as about two thirds of the roasters had a marshmallow that was engulfed in flames and were desperately trying to blow them out. Meanwhile, the attentive others were calmly assembling their tasty dessert and laughing at the calamity of their peers.

The Raw Mallow

Just like the changing colors of the scenery being a reflection of my own burnout, the process of marshmallow roasting was like the development of burnout. At the beginning, all of the marshmallows were pristinely white and unblemished, but as heat was added, it began to have an impact. The sugar molecules gradually heated up and over the period of a few minutes started to create a progressive browning effect. Soon, the sugar begins to burn and be replaced with carbon. Eventually, inattention develops into an out of control fiery blaze-up leaving a version of ourselves we no longer recognize.

At this point we are left with a two choices, we can choose to pull off that charred and smoking outer layer to reveal our white and unblemished inner core or we can leave it undisturbed. Leaving our blackened shell intact will likely lead to us feeling used up, drained, frustrated, angry, and callous. The choice is ours, but we must take action to reveal the beauty that lies within. We must take an active role in educating ourselves about what burnout actually is, what it can do, where and how it is impacting us and learn strategies to lessen its effect in our lives. Only then can we begin to bounce back from burnout and create lives filled with more purpose, more love, more compassion, and more fulfillment.

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to pull off my burnt and blackened layer. And when I did, I discovered my gooey, loving and compassionate inner core. I knew it was still there, but had lost touch with it during my time traveling mainly due to my own inattention and ignorance. My burnout recovery meant not traveling anymore and moving away from the bedside and into a role that was a better fit. I will always be thankful for my time being a travel nurse and feel truly blessed to have bounced back from burnout.