Addressing Burn Out — Osose Oboh

Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.
- Author Unknown

The burning. That was the worst part.

Each morning, I would wake up, and the first thing I noticed was the burning. The pain in my neck and shoulders. The burning when I opened my eyes. The constant tiredness no matter how many hours I slept the night before. My mind was constantly jumping from one thought to the next, and the ability to maintain a focus on one thing at a time dwindled fast.

June was tough y’all. The physical manifestations made it difficult for me to show up for myself. Thank God I have been prioritizing my mental health since I first experienced situational depression in 2015. I know “pushing through” is not the right move when signs like this start to arise. I decided to pause from studying and take a look at all of the things I was juggling to figure out what had changed to get me to this point.

Crisis. That is what changed things.

To explain briefly the past 4-5 months of my life: I took an 8-hour clinical skills board exam on March 18th which thankfully brought me home to LA. Two days later, I was told to fly back to Michigan as the pandemic had finally become “accepted as fact” in the US. Three days after that, one of my friends passed away after delivering her first child, and I was told that all in-person clinical experiences were canceled for the foreseeable future. On top of that, I had to assist in converting a 3,000 person conference to a virtual one. It was the Annual Medical Education Conference for the Student National Medical Association where I was to be sworn in as the 57th National President.

Talk about a whirlwind. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. For the second time in six days, I booked yet another flight (shout out to Delta Airlines for saving me in 2020!) through my favorite airline to come home. Home was the only place I felt like I could grieve and adjust. I got home safely, jumped into the virtual electives my school created to keep us on track for graduation, got sworn in from my parent’s couch with my sister holding the Bible and my little brother taking photos, and did what I could to grieve and take care of myself.

The following month, murders of Black men and women began to surface. I felt like I had been trying to run up a hill with no end in sight.

I am a Black woman living in the United States. I am the President of a national organization. I am a medical student and leader at my medical school. I am a photographer, a creative with no time to express herself. I am a new-age content creator working to build a brand. I am a mentor and a mentee. I am a friend. I am a daughter. A sister. All of these things, I have been working to manage during normal work hours, while taking the time to take care of my spirit (ie: reading the Bible, attending online services, listening to worship music) and my body (ie: running outside, group workouts with my friends). After the passing of Ahmaud Arbery, running alone was no longer freeing. One main way I relieve anxiety was stolen after I watched a 20 second clip of a young Black man get murdered.

I think somewhere between living in a pandemic and the unjust murders of Black men and women, I lost my boundaries. I had worked so hard to set up boundaries for myself such as ending my day at 8pm to give myself the time and space to practice self-care in whatever form before bed so that my cup would be full. But one loss after the next slowly tore them down, and I began to flounder in the waves. I think I use to pride myself on my level of productivity and efficiency in my journey to live life to the fullest. It was all made possible because I was intentional about making time for myself. So the change crept up on me.

It’s very subtle. The moments when you start trading in you-time to answer just one more email, to take one more meeting.

The last blow was after my first week back in the hospital in June after 10 weeks of online classes. I had to help run the first virtual National Leadership Institute as President. No big deal. Except, I had an overnight call shift on the first day of programming. I sat outside the hospital (with permission from my resident) when there was some down time, and joined in the zoom sessions for 3 hours while hotspotting wifi from my phone since the hospital connection blocked zoom conferencing. I got home at 7:30am and was back on zoom by 11am for day two. Around 2pm, my sister and I packed up our valuables and evacuated our apartment because the apartment below us had caught fire. We ran through the smoke-filled stairwell and out the door to our car and drove off to a friend’s house as the fire-fighters arrived on the scene. No less than 10 minutes later, my laptop was open, and I was back on the zoom call as if I wasn’t worrying whether or not I’d have a home to come back to.

As each domino was knocked down from one crisis after another, the signs of burn out became more and more apparent. I knew I needed to pivot.

I had to pause and make room to breathe. Again, I called up Delta, and booked a socially-distance flight back home.

I stopped studying for several weeks to take one thing off of my plate. Because of my ever changing medical school schedule impacted by Covid, I was able to push my last board exam back. At first, I was annoyed, but soon was able to see that it was all in God’s wonderful plan.

I had to speak life to myself: My whole life, my purpose, my everything, has been in God’s hand. He has never and will never let me go. He will never leave me nor forsake me. He is with me, protecting me, ordering my steps.

I had to share how I was feeling with my friends/family, one of which helped to stretch and massage my shoulders and neck for a week. Thank you Anna!

I infused happiness where I could by capturing self-portraits in order to express myself, photographing at least one portrait session, joining running challenges and doing socially distanced hikes with friends while home.

I had to take the pressure off! I can’t do everything. So, now, I’m back, feeling more balanced, and ready to study.

You aren’t crazy for taking breaks. The medical journey is a lifelong one. Rates of burn out are high and steadily climbing amongst practicing physicians. We must take care of ourselves, no matter what field we are in.

I’m writing this as a means to not only process a chunk of what I have been through the past few months, but also, to encourage you to analyze your life right now. What have you lost during this time? How are you prioritizing your self and your well-being?

If you aren’t, it is time.

Time to tackle my last board exam before residency. Step 2 CK.

P.S. Check out these self-portraits that I took earlier in during quarantine as I worked to navigate these times. These were captured using my Canon EOS R, 35mm 1.8 lens, and my canon app on my phone. Special thanks to Steven Jermaine Saint Aubin Jones for the mood board assist.