The Significance of a Side Gig

I remember the moment I decided to become a physician assistant/associate (PA). I was sitting in my living room in November of 2014 watching The Impossible. The summer before, I had just come back from a semester off backpacking Europe for three months with my best friend, Sarah. A trip I lovingly dub my “mid-youth crisis” following my parents’ divorce and really, having everything I thought I knew - all the plans, ideas, expectations for my life - thrown out the window. I was cautious in returning to school. I knew that the academic path was right for me, but was unsure as to which path in academia I would take. So I enrolled in my fall semester declaring psychology as my major, with the understanding that I could pursue a B.A. or a B.S. and I loved that flexibility.

I don’t remember much of that November day when I watched that movie, but I ended it with a full understanding and feeling of purpose for the first time since I made the decision to go to Europe. The premise behind that film is a family traveling to Thailand when the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami hit. One of the characters was a physician and I watched as she took her own medical knowledge and applied it to herself and family. When watching the hospitals pile up in capacity to treat people injured from the storm, I felt my calling beat within my heart. I wanted to help. I wanted to be the person that had the knowledge and capacity to take care of others. I didn’t want to pigeon-hole myself into one line of study and be an “expert” at a single thing, but wanted to have enough capabilities so I could be useful wherever I was needed. That’s what drew me to the PA profession. I focused my undergrad on completing my Bachelor of Science in psychology and was accepted into Mary Baldwin’s PA program in 2016.

Anyone who has studied or practiced any type of medicine knows how consuming it is. It’s not only the time spent studying and clinically applying the material, but the patient and provider interactions you have on a daily basis make imprints on your heart and soul in a way you never anticipate. While in school, there is very little time to dedicate to activities other than studying, and what extra time you do have, you have to choose between prioritizing or sacrificing self-care, social life, or sleep. Very rarely could you manage to address everything within the same 24 hour period. I took my education a step further and applied to Norwalk Hospital/Yale School of Medicine’s PA Surgical Residency Program. I was accepted and moved to Connecticut in 2019.

Residency is a whole other experience in its entirety. On one hand, I had a whole new family and support system, but on the other hand, I was working 100+ hours a week at a time between regular rounding/OR duties, didactic lessons, 24 hour call schedules, OR call, etc. In March of 2020, COVID hit our hospitals and our country with an unanticipated force that left everyone scared and very quickly, defeated. I remember the first time I had to pronounce a patient dead from COVID and it happened in slow-motion. I think I spent about 5 minutes just watching for breaths while my fingers tried to feel for a pulse through double-layered gloves. Even worse than realizing the patient who you were caring for, who was doing “okay” not even 24 hours prior, was having to call their family on the phone and let them know their loved one died. There’s a certain language you have to use when you are sharing news of death and it’s easier to gauge and be a compassionate human when the person sits across from you; but, when visitation was not permitted throughout their entire hospital stay, I am limited by phone call and I am just a voice on the other end sharing devastating news with someone I've never met before. Far quicker than I’d ever imagined, my purpose, my call-to-action I experienced almost six years prior was met with it’s first challenge - being flexible and resourceful in an unforeseen pandemic. I was a young, new surgical PA resident taking care of COVID patients where death was more compassionate than living. It took a far deeper toll on me that I’ve ever truly allowed myself to feel and it will sometimes creep up and leave me feeling hollow inside.

It’s September 2020 and I just graduated from my residency program. I accepted a position in neurosurgery back in Colorado and I was excited. Or so I convinced myself. I loved neurosurgery in residency (and still do), but the position itself ended up causing more stress than residency did. I had my doubts before I accepted the position, but many facilities were on a hiring freeze due to the pandemic, so job options were limited. Within the first week, I knew it wasn’t the job for me, but I didn’t know if that was due to lack of experience (it being my actual, first “real” job as a PA), the residual effects from COVID, or the long commute I had to work. Nevertheless, these emotions piled up and I found myself doubting my career choice, my abilities as a provider, my knowledge base, my skillset, etc. It carried with me home in the form of depression and anxiety and affected my relationship with James until my mental health deteriorated into a breakdown. Once, with hands gripped to the steering wheel, I contemplated driving into the divider or the curb on the highway as it would have been better than going into work. I was not in a good place. I had my first breakdown shortly thereafter. I was so afraid of disappointing others (James, my parents, my co-residents, my mentors in residency, my neurosurgeons, etc.) and feeling like a failure. The only thing that kept me going and brought me happiness (aside from James), was planning for our wedding. Once that was done, I didn’t really have much else to occupy my time or creativity.

Healthcare is synonymous with burn-out right now. Left and right providers are leaving their positions because their/our own health is compromised. We didn’t sign up to take care of people and work for organizations who don’t have any respect for us, for our well-being. There is so much red tape and there are so many hoops to jump through daily, before you even get to spend time on patient-care. Pizza parties or free-lunches don’t come anywhere near close to substituting for missing the quiet mornings with cups of coffee where I can take a deep breath in and feel peace with my husband. Patients complaining to me for the 20th time that day about their care in the hospital for their elective surgery during a nursing-shortage with any compassion, patience, or understanding at the end of a long shift where I was on-call the night prior and up until 2 o’clock in the morning, do not serve as an appropriate substitution for the warm bed next to my husband where my alarm clock is when my dogs start to wag their tails and whine in the soft sunlight pouring through our windows.

It takes energy to be present. More energy to be present in a negative environment and even more when dealing with complicated patients or people. When the energy you continue to expend exceeds what is done to replete those energy stores, then burn out occurs.

James and I started having serious discussions about our lavender and bee farm following our honeymoon. Conversations lead to actions and here were are today. In full transparency, however, this side-gig is also an escape route or a “Plan Bee,” if you will. It is something that we are hoping to capitalize on to create a second income so that neither of us feel obligated to stay in a job or position that makes us feel as cornered and defeated as I have been the past couple of years. This is where having a side-gig or a passion project comes into play. While hobbies are wonderful and so very important for creative outlets, I truly believe having something built from goals and dreams that you can tangibly see or produce brings so much satisfaction.

It took two breakdowns and my husband insisting that I leave my job before I had the courage to make a change and applied for a new job for which I am currently employed and am much, much happier. I have an incredible support system at work and my job brings me joy in all aspects again, where it hadn’t for the past year.

While I am very happy with my current position, I never want to be in that dark place again. The Nelson Bee & Lavender Company is our side-gig, our “Plan Bee,” our escape route. It’s also our creative outlet, our passion-project and something that brings us both pure happiness and another purpose.

It’s my hope that anyone who is reading this, whether you identify as a healthcare worker or not; whether you conquered mental health obstacles or not; where you are in the Millennial “side-gig” generation or not; that you are inspired to cultivate your own passions. You don’t have to have everything figured out and that’s the purpose of this blog and our Instagram - we are figuring it out as we go, but at least we’re doing the damn thing and not just talking about it. We hope to be an inspiration for you, even if it just sparks some thought.

Thanks for reading,

Your recovering burnt-out PA-C,

Rebekah