“That could have been me.” I was nauseated and had a dry mouth as my eyes filled with tears. I learned of Lorna Breen, a prominent emergency physician, who died from suicide. It was the summer of 2020 in the middle of the second coronavirus surge. I was far more vulnerable than I could’ve ever imagined. Fear, exhaustion, stress, and conflict — it was all piling up.
I knew burnout existed in health care. But I didn’t realize how prevalent the mental health crisis had become for health care workers and that the pandemic was a tipping point for too many who had been suffering in silence.
Handout
Handout
Breen was in her 40s, a leader in an New York emergency room, hardworking and interested in helping patients and fixing processes. It sounds like the epitome of a good doctor, right? Was I any different leading a local group of physicians in Atlanta through the coronavirus, striving to keep internal operations flawless? Most days in mid-2020, it felt like I was trying to fix something that simply wasn’t fixable, from all issues that came up during the pandemic like enough personal protective equipment, ever-changing coronavirus guidelines and trying to keep my family safe from the virus. Breen faced parallel challenges. She contracted COVID but ultimately could not regain her footing to work while she suffered severe mental health challenges. Despite love and aggressive intervention from her family, she died from suicide.
Breen wasn’t the first physician to die by suicide and will not be the last. Her death, though, is one that rattled me to the core and jolted me to the reality that it could have been any one of us in health care.
Burnout has plagued the health care industry for years. There’s too much competing with our efforts to deliver the best patient care. It’s a constant cycle of doing more with less, regulatory demands, tedious documentation and being inundated with administrative tasks. As published in the Annals of Internal Medicine, burnout costs the health care system a staggering $4.6 billion annually in costs related to turnover and reduced direct time spent caring for patients.
Breen’s story was a catalyst for me to prioritize my own health. To be clear, I was never suicidal, but struggled with insomnia, irritability, despair and other behaviors and feelings aligning with a mood disorder. I sought professional help. Not only did I need to live, but I also wanted to thrive.
Meditative deep breathing and mantras and exercising with a personal trainer have been a large part of my journey to be more resilient and to combat stress. These tools, however, turn out to be mere bandages. They don’t address the underlying system flaws that drive the workforce to burnout.
It was clear many colleagues were facing similar personal challenges. I decided to share my personal journey in a memoir published last November, detailing how aspects of my life chaotically intersected. I candidly shared my journey with mental health. Change can start with sharing our own stories, having conversations and being vulnerable on this lifelong journey.
Truth be told, so many health care workers choose not to seek help for mental health issues as they feel intimidated that it could be “discovered” or “disclosed” on licensure that could impact their ability to work. How can a health care worker be scared to get help for themselves when their job is to heal and help others? It’s hard to fathom this fear, but it exists.
Breen’s family launched the Dr. Lorna Breen Heroes Foundation to focus on supporting health care workers’ well-being and mental health. In 2022, the Dr. Lorna Breen Health Care Provider Protection Act was passed, with $103 million in funding for health care organizations and foundations around the country. The goal has been to reduce and prevent suicide, and ultimately help destigmatize mental health challenges for health care workers. Campaigns share evidence-based strategies that can be adapted by organizations to reduce health care worker burnout. The foundation has already made monumental strides in helping many states and organizations remove intrusive credentialing questions related to one’s mental health.
The Lorna Breen Heroes Act is currently being reviewed for reauthorization. With support from officials like Rep. Buddy Carter, who represents coastal Georgia, there is already strong advocacy for reauthorization of this act. It’s imperative that we have Carter and other local and state government leaders aware of the importance of reauthorizing this act, as this work is just getting started.
Advocating for the best health for health care workers is a nonpartisan issue. Not investing to protect the health care workforce will have catastrophic consequences in our communities. If we don’t look after our health care workers, the availability and quality of health care could suffer.
Not only do I stand strongly with the Dr. Lorna Breen Heroes Foundation, but as an ambassador, I also pledge to keep using my voice to advocate for health care workers. Reauthorization of the Dr. Lorna Breen Act will allow experts to keep advocating and develop initiatives for health care organizations to ensure their employees are well cared for, which ultimately will foster the best for patients.
Dhaval Desai, the author of “Burning Out on the Covid Front Lines: A Doctor’s Memoir of Fatherhood, Race and Perseverance in the Pandemic,” is director of hospital medicine at Emory Saint Joseph’s Hospital.
About the Author