Compassion fatigue (also known as a secondary traumatic stress disorder) is a condition characterised by a gradual lessening of compassion over time. It is common among trauma victims and individuals that work directly with trauma victims. It was first diagnosed in nurses in the 1950s. Sufferers can exhibit several symptoms including hopelessness, a decrease in experiences of pleasure, constant stress and anxiety, and a pervasive negative attitude. This can have detrimental effects on individuals, both professionally and personally, including a decrease in productivity, the inability to focus, and the development of new feelings of incompetency and self doubt - Wikipedia
Today in clinics, one patient came in and spoke these few words that woke me up from my half dazed state "... It's about time I start becoming selfish and think about myself"
She was a teacher in some primary school who had a progressive case of back pain, so much so that now, she is sometimes unable to even walk properly - needless to say, it affects her work. Her work entailed more than just teaching in the primary school. She held a motherly figure amongst the students, acting as a counseller for them, being there for them in all situations, regardless of school or non-school related incidents e.g. she was there for a student who's dad passed away - there for him to cry out because that student didn't want to cry in front of his real mum for fear of worrying or further upsetting her...
And right then, while she was sitting with a terrible pain in her back, her concerns weren't so much focussed on her terrible pain but rather they were on people around her: her family and her job.. or more accurately, her students. The doctor spoke of what was called "compassion fatigue". About how taking up roles such as counselling makes us feel good when we counsel the first or the second person. But what about the 20th person, the 200th person? Can we go on forever counselling these people without us ourselves being affected one way or another?
Today, the doctor ended his clinic past 7pm. Not so much because he had too many patients, but rather because he (very willingly) spent so much time with each and every patient, addressing their concerns and expectations and even going on to talk about their daily lives. I heard from his Medical Officer that he sometimes ends past 9pm. Surely he himself has been or one day would be a victim of this 'compassion fatigue'?
But the thing is, he definitely doesn't seem to be hit by this problem. If going home everyday around 7-9pm is part of his routine, while other doctors are going home before 5pm, surely there is this something that's keeping him going, something that drives him forward to maintain this compassion without being fatigued...
It so happened that this very night, I met my aunt in the wards who was extremely concerned about her mother in law, who was just warded. She was so worried that she even asked me for a "second opinion" about her condition. After a period of (attempting to) giving advice and reassurance, she was so grateful and so relieved just to have me around, explaining things to her - and that's even when she knows that I'm coming from a position that is far from a qualified doctor, and even possibly a misinformed person.
The rewards of this job is definitely great, fulfilling and immesurable to say that very least. But then again, there comes the balance between self and others. While this profession calls for a selfless person, is it really possible to uphold this position when fatigue simply sets in?
~~~Just another one of my random thoughts~~~
On a side note: My aunt ended with: I wouldn't really call myself a Christian, but this time I'm really praying to Him, hoping that He will see her through....
Talk about inspiration
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