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Integrating Wellness in Patient Care: A Journey of Emotion and Healing

  • Writer: Natassja Nowak
    Natassja Nowak
  • Aug 20, 2023
  • 5 min read

Updated: Oct 11, 2024

When I first started as a nursing assistant in a skilled rehabilitation center, I had no idea how much the job would shape me, not just as a caregiver but as a person. The long 12-hour shifts were physically exhausting, but what I didn’t expect was how emotionally draining—and ultimately rewarding—it would be. Reflecting on my experiences, I’ve come to realize that wellness isn’t just something we give to our patients. It’s something we cultivate within ourselves, through the relationships we build, the struggles we witness, and the lessons we learn along the way. Here are some of my most important takeaways about what I’ve learned about integrating wellness into patient care.


1. The Fight to Find Balance


In the beginning, I felt like I had to prove something—both to myself and to others. The facility I worked in was small and close-knit, and I definitely felt like an outsider. All the other CNAs (certified nursing assistants) and nurses had been there for a few years so I was both a newbie and a stranger. In order to be seen as a “team-player”, I would pick up as many shifts as I could, pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion. I wasn’t sleeping as much as I needed to, and the back to back 6am to 6pm shifts started to take a toll. There was a strange pride in it, thinking that if I worked hard enough, I could somehow make everything better for my patients. But as the days wore on, I realized I wasn’t just burning out—I was losing the emotional energy that my residents needed most. I noticed this especially after my third consecutive 12-hour shift in a row. My conversations with my residents became shorter, and I found it increasingly difficult to stay motivated throughout my shift.


There’s a point where you have to admit that you can’t be everything for everyone. It’s hard because we want to help, to be there for people who are suffering. But I learned that if I wasn’t taking care of myself, I couldn’t fully be there for them. When I finally allowed myself to rest, I noticed the difference in my care. I was more present, and better suited to show my compassion through my care.


2. The Unexpected Depth of Human Connection


What surprised me the most in my role wasn’t the physical demands of the job—it was how deeply I would connect with the people I cared for. Going into to this, I obviously knew that assisting the nurses and my patients was a part of my job description. But I wasn’t just tending to their medical needs, I was becoming part of their lives, even if only for a brief moment in time. There were times when I sat by a patient’s bedside, holding their hand as they cried out of fear or frustration. There were also moments when I wiped away tears, not just from their faces but from my own.


Throughout my experience, it was the small interactions that truly transformed my perspective on healthcare. My role wasn't just about aiding physical recovery but also supporting emotional healing. It went beyond medical treatment—it was about reminding patients that they are still human, still valued, and still seen. 


3. The Power of Small Acts of Care


In the hustle and chaos of a busy shift, it’s easy to feel like there’s no time for anything beyond the essentials. But I started to notice how much of a difference small acts of care made in my patients’ lives. Maybe it was adjusting a pillow just right, or taking a minute to help them take a deep breath when the pain became overwhelming. These weren’t things I had to do—they were things I wanted to do because I could see the relief and gratitude in their eyes.


There were days when I was tired, when I felt like I didn’t have anything left to give. But even then, those little moments—those extra two or three minutes I spent making someone comfortable—filled me with a sense of purpose. It’s strange to say, but in giving to them, I was also healing parts of myself. Those small, seemingly insignificant moments became the heart of my work.


4. Witnessing the Pain of Others


One of the hardest parts of the job was witnessing the raw emotions of patients and their families. I saw the fear, the anger, and the frustration. Some days, it felt like no matter what we did, it wasn’t enough to ease their pain or their sense of loss. It hurt to watch people suffer, to see their hopes crumble under the weight of slow progress or setbacks.


There were moments when I wanted to break down with them. I remember one family, devastated by the slow recovery of their loved one, lashing out in anger, not because they didn’t care, but because they cared so much. I could feel their pain as if it were my own, and all I could do was offer a listening ear and gentle words. Those moments were some of the most heartbreaking, but also the most meaningful. They taught me that sometimes, all people need is to be heard and understood. It’s not always about fixing things—it’s about being there.


5. The Bonds Within the Healthcare Team


I came to realize how much I relied on the support of my fellow healthcare workers. There was an unspoken bond between the nursing assistants, nurses, and therapists. We all carried the weight of our patients’ struggles, and that weight was lighter when shared. I started to see how interconnected we all were, how each of us played a role in the bigger picture of patient care.


One day, after a particularly grueling shift, I remember sitting down with a nurse and just talking—about the patients, about the emotional toll of the job. I realized how vital those connections were, not just for our patients, but for us too. We needed each other, and we needed to remember that we weren’t alone in this.


My Final Thoughts


My journey as a nursing assistant taught me that wellness is so much more than a physical state. It’s the human connection, the emotional support, and the small, quiet moments of care that bring healing, both for the patient and for the caregiver. Looking back, I see that the most important thing I gave to my patients wasn’t just my hands to help them heal, but my heart to help them feel less alone in their journey.


Each patient and each story brought me closer to understanding what it truly means to care for someone. It’s not just about tending to their wounds, but about tending to their spirits. And in doing so, I learned to tend to mine as well.


 
 
 

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