The healthcare burnout had been building for years, but the unfair pay decision made it impossible to ignore. Here’s how workplace toxicity in healthcare became my motivation to pursue financial independence.
In 2017, my employer told me that a brand-new nurse would now make 20% more than me for doing the exact same job I’d been doing for seven years. That moment crystallized years of building healthcare burnout into my breaking point and became the catalyst for my 8-year escape plan.
Let me start from the beginning.
How Healthcare Burnout Built Over Time
I started in healthcare at 19 after taking an EMT course. First worked in the ER, then dispatching medical helicopters, and eventually in the back of an ambulance. I loved that work; constantly learning, exciting, working alongside friends. It didn’t feel like work; it felt like hanging out with friends while taking care of people in all kinds of situations.
I decided to get additional training to become a paramedic: the one calling the shots in the back. After two years of coursework and hands-on experience, I became a freshly minted paramedic in 2007. It offered a $5/hour bump from around $10 as an EMT to $15/hour (EMS really doesn’t get paid enough, do they?), plus more autonomy in patient care and more tools in my toolkit. I loved the work, but $15/hour wasn’t going to cut it, even in the Midwest.
I grew up middle-class with a safe home, food on the table, and a comfortable life. At 17, my parents found out I was gay. That ended the comfort train. They weren’t pleased and made it known—we had irreconcilable differences, and I was told to move out.
I moved in with an older gay friend who was a paramedic. He suffered from mental health issues I wasn’t equipped to handle at 17, while I dealt with my own struggles as a young gay man in the Midwest. Lucky for me, he encouraged me to try the EMT route. I might not be where I am today without him.
The trauma of being told I wasn’t wanted by my parents at 17 drove me to work and save aggressively. I worked every overtime shift, holiday, weekend, and night shift I could get. No matter how exhausted I felt, I was determined that nobody would ever throw me away again or put me in a vulnerable position.
I wanted out of the Midwest. Even in a somewhat liberal college town, it felt stifling for a young gay man. I wanted a big city where it was safe to be myself. I worked hard to sharpen my paramedic skills because that was my passion, but paramedic jobs notoriously pay poorly. Moving to a big city just to barely scrape by wouldn’t get me the financial security I desperately wanted.
I looked for adjacent careers and eventually found an opportunity in specialized hospital work on the West Coast. When I applied for a clinical coordinator position, I flew out twice on my own dime for interviews. I was finally offered the position in August 2010. I was excited—a whole new city, a new career, everything felt fresh. My boyfriend at the time agreed to move with me, so I wasn’t doing it completely alone.
I worked to become an expert in my field, which was challenging but fascinating. Protocols changed constantly. What we did last week was obsolete the next week. I soaked up everything I could to be the best at my job. I lived in the city for seven years, initially loving it, though that love slowly dwindled as urban challenges mounted.
When Healthcare Employers Show Their True Values
Seven years in, my employer made an announcement that would change everything. They decided to give RNs a 20% pay differential over non-RNs. People I worked alongside, people I had trained, people completely new to this field would suddenly make significantly more than experienced staff who’d been doing the work for years.
The training process was intensive: four months essentially tied to a preceptor, and it typically took a year before someone felt confident in the role. It took dedication from both new employees and experienced staff to make everything flow smoothly.
Being an RN wasn’t required for this job. Nice to have, perhaps, but I’d seen plenty of RNs who couldn’t cut it. Success was more about the will to do exceptional work than having a nursing degree. My RN colleagues did excellent work, but the degree itself wasn’t necessary to excel on the job.
When they announced the 20% pay difference in 2017, my colleagues—nurses and non-nurses alike—were shocked and heartbroken by how cavalier the decision seemed. We did the exact same job with no differences at all. Management decided this was their solution to retaining RNs and being competitive with hospitals. They weren’t willing to discuss how unfair it was for new staff to earn significantly more than well-trained, experienced employees.
I requested a meeting with my department director and HR director to discuss my concerns. It was unproductive and essentially boiled down to them saying they were sorry I felt that way, and “if you can find somewhere better, why haven’t you?”
It was dismissive and honestly broke me. After seven years of dedication, of flying out on my own dime for interviews, of building expertise in a complex field, of training the very people who would now earn more than me, this was their response.
Building an Escape Plan from Toxicity
The organization had satellite offices in other regions, including one that paid equally regardless of nursing credentials. I decided to transfer there, away from the politics and stress, hoping to find what I’d lost: feeling respected for the work I did and fair compensation for the expertise I’d built. I thought geography would solve my problems, but I’d learn why the geographic cure fails for toxic workplace situations.
What I didn’t realize yet was that I wasn’t just changing locations, I was beginning a long journey away from healthcare burnout toward freedom. Years later, when the stress became unbearable, I would use FMLA as my escape route to finally break free.
If you’re experiencing healthcare burnout (or burnout in any field, really) and unfair treatment, know that building an escape plan through financial independence is possible, even from a starting salary of $15/hour. Learn how in My Money Plan: How I Saved a Seven-Figure Net Worth.
Read about how I thought geography could solve my problems in ‘The Geographic Cure Why Leaving a Toxic Job Isn’t Enough‘.
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Healthcare burnout statistics: “According to the American Medical Association’s 2023 study on physician burnout, over 45% of physicians report at least one symptom of burnout.”
Workplace presenteeism research: Forbes references a HBR study that estimates that it costs upwards of $150 billion per year in lost productivity.
DISCLAIMER: This is my personal experience and shouldn’t be considered professional advice. If you’re experiencing severe workplace stress, burnout, or mental health issues, please consult with qualified professionals including therapists, doctors, or employment attorneys as appropriate. FMLA eligibility and workplace rights vary by situation and location. Every workplace and personal situation is different.