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- Article tag: Cultura Medica
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Within our dynamic "We don't talk about work, we talk about the heart", several people from the health sector have written us very honest messages.
Not everyone talks about happy moments.
Some speak of doubts.
Today we share one that reminded us that even those who seem strong also have their limits.
(Name withheld for privacy)
I've been a nurse for seven years. I work in a private hospital in Mexico. I've always been the type to solve problems. The type who doesn't complain much. The type who says, "I can do it."
But a few weeks ago I had a different day.
It wasn't a big mistake.
It wasn't a tragedy.
It was accumulation.
Consecutive shifts.
Difficult patients.
A family member who spoke to me as if I wasn't doing enough.
I arrived home in silence. I took off my shoes and felt my feet throb. I didn't cry. I didn't scream.
I just opened the laptop.
And I typed into my documents search engine: “resignation”.
There it was. A draft I had started months ago after another tough week.
I opened it.
I read what I had written some time ago:
“For personal reasons…”
I stared at the screen for several minutes.
She wasn't angry.
It was empty.
That kind of tiredness that doesn't go away after sleeping eight hours.
The one that makes you doubt everything, even something that used to make you feel proud.
I thought about how easy it would be to send it.
I thought about looking for something with more stable hours.
I thought about no longer feeling that constant pressure in my chest.
That same week, a young patient had taken my hand before going into a procedure.
"It's great that you're here," he told me.
At the time, I didn't think much of it. It was part of the job.
But sitting in front of the screen, I remembered her voice.
I remember that he breathed easier when I explained what was going to happen.
I remembered that he said "thank you" to me twice.
It wasn't anything extraordinary. It wasn't a scene from a movie.
But I understood something uncomfortable and honest:
I was exhausted.
But I still cared.
And as long as that was true, perhaps it wasn't time for me to leave.
I closed the file.
I didn't delete it.
I just closed it.
We almost never talk about this in the hospital.
We're talking about protocols.
On shifts.
Of patients.
But we don't always talk about wanting to run away some days.
If you work in healthcare, you know it's not all about romantic vocation. Sometimes it's resilience. Sometimes it's commitment. Sometimes it's simply getting through another day.
I don't know what I'll be doing in five years.
I don't know if I'll stay forever.
But that day I decided to stay a little longer.
And for now, that's enough.
This week we're sharing real stories from healthcare workers in Mexico: heartwarming moments, difficult moments, and decisions that almost no one sees.
If you've ever opened a similar draft... you're probably not the only person who has.
You can share your story in our special activity. Some will be selected (anonymously) to appear on our blog and social media.
We know that emotional exhaustion is not solved with a discount.
But we want to leave a small token of appreciation for those who continue to give their best even in difficult times:
Code: FB50
Discount: 50 MXN with no minimum purchase
Valid until: February 22, 11:59 PM (Mexico time)
You can use it directly in our online store.
Thank you for sticking around, even when no one sees the internal effort it involves.