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Long term disability letter

Hello everyone. My name is Chris Parry. I was an ER nurse for 14 years, before I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress. That was three years ago. As some of you may be aware, I wrote a book about my struggles (If you want more info, please DM me).

For the past year, LTD has been getting progressively more insistent that I look at a return to work as soon as possible. This despite three previous failed attempts, as well as the objections of my therapist. In addition, they are determined to see me return to nursing. This is, of course, purely for financial reasons. If I were to return to work in a position that pays less than nursing, they are obligated to make up the difference.

Needless to say, I am feeling a great deal of frustration of late. My therapist advised me that it might be helpful to write down my frustrations on paper as a way of understanding my feelings. I have decided to do her one better. I will post my feelings here, so that it can also serve as a way to connect to all of my fellow nurses. The problems we face are universal and have only been exacerbated by the covid crisis.

I would like to clarify, right from the start, that I am not trying to drag this out in any way. I, too, am eager to return to work. As a former ER nurse, I cannot stress enough just how boring these last three years have been for me. I am restless and eager to move on. That being said, I am eager to move on in a way that encourages my own growth and healing, rather than simply reinforcing my previous trauma simply for expedience’s sake. Not only will that be detrimental to me, but it will also be of no benefit to my LTD provider if I end up right back here in the future.

During the last three years, I have experienced a great deal of growth through intensive therapy. It has, however, been a gradual and difficult process. This is because most of the trauma I experienced as a nurse was not based around any single event, but rather on a series of events that occurred over the length of my career (this is known as complex PTSD). To put it another way, I came to believe that the systemic inadequacies within the health care system itself put me in a position whereby my own safety (both physical and emotional) was compromised on a daily basis.

As I watched both myself and my fellow nurses struggle under intolerable conditions, I began to develop a genuine mistrust of those in positions of authority; those with both the power and the RESPONSIBILITY to create a better working environment. We nurses should be supported in our work. We should feel valued. Instead, we are seen as complainers when we advocate for better conditions. Then, when we do burn out, we are seen as dispensable.

The reality is that the very nature of nursing is traumatic. Our environment is one in which lives literally hang in the balance. That, in itself, is difficult enough. Once we lose faith in those above us, we lose any sense of safety as well. This can only compound our feelings of uncertainty. It creates a recipe for disaster, an environment in which trauma is not only foreseeable but inevitable.  

Therein lies my current dilemma. Despite the considerable progress that I have made over the last three years, and despite my own eagerness to return to a life of purpose, I can not help but feel that the demands being made of me at present are both unreasonable and unrealistic. This is because of one simple and undeniable fact. Despite any progress that I have made, the profession of nursing has remained exactly as it was before my injury. Nurses still must contend with unmanageable workloads, lack of adequate staffing, shortages of equipment and the ever-present expectation that these are OUR problems rather than systemic problems. We are still left to sink or swim. We are still left with the knowledge that those who SHOULD have our backs are instead content to leave us to our own devices. We are not valued. We are not cared for. We are not safe. What we have instead become is replaceable cogs in a broken-down machine.

The great irony of this is that I would still love to return to emergency nursing. I could, as it stands right now, walk into the worst imaginable scene with no hesitation. We’re talking real blood and guts here. The problem comes after. The problem comes when I contemplate the eight other patients I am also expected to care for. Just the thought of returning to such an environment is enough to make me feel physically ill.

There is also the question of trust. If I do not believe in my superiors, how can I hope to thrive in any environment, even should I be able to find a position within nursing that is not as immediate as ER nursing.

The worst part is that, as my LTD worker attempts to encourage me, she is really just reinforcing those very feelings. Once again, my safety is being tossed aside for expediency. The confidence we have worked so hard to build is being challenged, the very confidence they are relying on to make any return to work a success. If this is not irony, I don’t know what is.

Why Braveheart drives me crazy

Christmas

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