Healthcare workers struggling day after day
Published 5:30 am Monday, August 24, 2026
Recently, I had to change from my comfortable street attire in exchange for the blue shapeless tie in the back of a hospital gown. Not my first choice.
I was facing gallbladder surgery, something that was a total shock. So there I was, sitting on the side of the bed, trying to take it all in.
I could hear the other patients behind the curtain being examined by nurses who were empathetic, understanding and kind. Visitors behind the other curtains are chatting softly with their loved ones, sometimes giggling.
Buzzers from other rooms are going off and needing attention. Announcement over the intercom…Code White, such and such a floor, such and such a room. Code Pink…such and such a ward.
Odd smells, odd noise. And there I sit waiting for my turn.
The BP machine was waiting, blinking. It was a long time before I was looked at. In comes the nurse…the usual question: name, birthdate,.Dr….BP taken, temp taken, get into bed and wait.
I can hear the nurses running around. Always, always, always moving. Some with smiles, some with looks of concern, but always there.
This is the point I want to make. Each room, which has four beds, is handled by one nurse…not bad, one nurse can handle patients for 12 hours, right? Not a bad deal, but wait…
Say a shift is scheduled for 11 nurses to care for the whole floor, each with their own room. At the start of the shift, four nurses show up…ok, now things change.
Now one nurse doesn’t have just her room but the rooms on either side, so rooms 1, 2, 3 are looked after by one nurse. That is 12 patients. Now these 12 patients are pre- or post-surgery.
Room one has three pre-surgery exams, which means tests, prepping, and one is post.
Room two had a couple of posts, meaning extra care when going to the bathroom, dressings checked, IV bags changed, coming back from X-rays, or sending to exams.
Meanwhile, room one wants help back from the bathroom, and room four won’t stop ringing the buzzer. The constant beeping can quite literally drive you nuts.
All this time, there have been complaints because there is no water. Oh, when is breakfast? I don’t feel that well. Can you help me roll over? You haven’t even been in room four yet.
New patients need to be IV’d, and it isn’t even breakfast yet.
This is not a one-day thing. This happens every day in hospitals across the country.
These people don’t just need help and understanding, but most of all, they need funding.
This unsustainable pressure is exactly why healthcare workers have reached a breaking point.
The message from the frontline is clear: the current conditions cannot continue.
These are professionals who dedicated their lives to caring for others; they do not want to walk away from their patients. Yet, systemic underfunding has left them with no other way to make their voices heard.
The crisis doesn’t just exhaust the current workforce; it deeply damages employment and retention. Young graduates enter the field eager to help, only to be swallowed up by severe staffing shortages and crushing workloads.
Seasoned nurses and doctors are driven into early retirement simply to protect their own mental and physical health. It creates a toxic, cyclical trap: as burnout forces more staff to leave, the burden on those who remain becomes twice as heavy.
The great tragedy of this crisis is how often the public misdirects its anger.
When an emergency room is gridlocked or a post-op check takes hours, it is the nurse standing at the bedside who usually bears the brunt of a patient’s or family’s raw frustration.
The public sees a breakdown in care and blames the frontline worker, failing to realize that the staff are just as trapped by the lack of resources as the patients are. They are victims of the same broken machine.
Ultimately, the struggle of healthcare workers and the health of the public are bound together.
We cannot expect optimal patient care from a workforce that is systematically starved of the resources, time, and support required to provide it.
As I continue to recover from my surgery at home, my gratitude for the doctors and nurses who looked after me is immense.
But so is my worry.
Supporting our healthcare workers isn’t just about fairness for them—it is the only way we can protect ourselves when we are the ones lying in a hospital bed.
Debora Bouzane