As health care professionals, have you ever stopped and asked yourself, “How am I doing?”
A humble doctor once asked my team, “How are you doing on a personal level?” That question stopped me in my tracks. None of us knew how to answer. Were we okay? Were we coping? Maybe we were, but maybe we weren’t. The truth was, we didn’t know. His question echoed in my mind for days, revealing how often we neglect to ask ourselves the simple but essential question: “How am I doing?”
I learned this lesson the hard way a few years ago when, at 39, I found myself grappling with severe chest pain. I didn’t see it coming. I had no major risk factors and no medical history to explain it. That night became my turning point. I realized I could no longer let my mind race uncontrollably, replaying every shift, questioning if I had done enough for my patients or my team, and endlessly worrying about things that hadn’t even happened—on top of the challenges in my personal life as a single mom. It helped me realize how much I had sacrificed and forced me to confront what I wasn’t willing to lose.
But even with this awareness, sometimes I ask myself: What does work-life balance mean for us as health care professionals? Can we truly afford to pursue it? Or have we conditioned ourselves to believe that sacrificing our well-being is part of the job? How do we find balance in a profession that demands so much from us physically and emotionally?
These are tricky questions because the lines between need and necessity often blur in our professions. We unconsciously put our patients first, pouring our energy into their care while pushing our needs aside. Yet, when I think about the overwhelming shifts, emotional toll, exhaustion, and frustration that accumulate over weeks, months, or years, I wonder: Is work-life balance just a “nice-to-have,” or is it the key to surviving—and thriving—in this field? We’re used to pushing through 12-hour shifts, balancing multiple patients, and navigating the high-stakes intensity of life-and-death situations. Amid it, we can feel unstoppable—until we hit a wall.
Burnout has quietly become a silent epidemic in health care. Nearly 50 percent of health care workers report experiencing it, and the number is steadily rising (Smith et al. 42). How did we get here?
The answer is complex, but it boils down to the fact that health care demands don’t stop. We tell ourselves we’ll catch up on rest later, take a break when we can, or schedule a vacation when our circumstances allow. But the truth is, waiting for the “right” moment to rest is a gamble we can’t afford. Sustained well-being requires a proactive approach, prioritizing balance as a necessity—not just an afterthought.
Is work-life balance even possible in health care? It’s a question that haunts many of us. How can we focus on making time for self-care when our work is literally about saving lives? And how can we prioritize ourselves without feeling guilty or selfish?
Perhaps the question isn’t whether balance is possible but whether we’ve defined it incorrectly. Balance isn’t about equal parts work and life. It’s about creating the space we need to recharge, reconnect, and renew ourselves so we can give our best to our patients—and ourselves.
Reclaiming time for ourselves, whether through 30 minutes of solitude after a long shift or setting clear boundaries around our personal time, becomes crucial. In doing so, we realize that balance isn’t a luxury. It’s a necessity for longevity in this field.
Without balance, we cannot sustain the level of care our patients deserve. When I’m exhausted, I’m not as sharp, joyful, kind, compassionate, or fully present. In those moments, I feel disconnected from my true self and unable to share my gift wholeheartedly with my patients. Instead of offering care, I risk causing harm. This is a dangerous place to be in health care. The stress compounds as you doubt yourself, feeling unsafe in your decisions. This vicious cycle of stress and uncertainty only heightens the emotional toll we already face.
Achieving balance isn’t just about preventing burnout, though that’s certainly part of it. It’s also about preserving the joy, fulfillment, and sense of purpose that drew us to health care in the first place. When balanced, we provide care from a place of genuine connection rather than obligation.
Balance is more than just taking breaks. It’s about sustainably protecting our well-being by setting boundaries, advocating for ourselves and others, and demanding that the health care system support our personal needs as much as it supports our professional responsibilities.
One of our hardest lessons is learning to say “no.” We’re conditioned to say “yes” to everything—extra shifts, last-minute coverage, constant availability. But without boundaries, we sacrifice more of ourselves than we can afford to give.
So, is work-life balance a need or a necessity? Reflecting on my own experience and the stories of many others, I’ve realized that it’s not just something we want—it’s something we can’t live without. In health care, balance is about survival. We must maintain our well-being to continue doing the work we love without losing ourselves. However, until we fully acknowledge our need for balance and recognize the impact of underestimating it, creating a culture of wellness in health care will remain challenging.
In the end, achieving work-life balance in health care is essential, as it has been shown to enhance health care workers’ mental and emotional well-being, improve the quality of patient care, and promote longevity in the field. Without addressing it efficiently, individual and institutional burnout will continue challenging the system.
The question isn’t whether we need balance but rather how each of us can achieve it in our demanding and life-saving careers. Failing to do so means risking ourselves and our ability to care for those who need us most.
Perrette St. Preux is a nurse.
