I struggle a lot with what I want to write about in this space, with what I’m allowed to write about. I’m very conscious of people in real life who pay attention to this blog (few though you may be, thank you for existing) and that makes me want to be careful with what I put in here.
It doesn’t help that I work in a field that is big on confidentiality (of the patient kind and the cover your ass kind) and most of my work stress (which is most of my life stress) comes from government issues and bureaucratic issues that people in charge would probably frown at me for flaunting.
Now I strongly feel that these issues need to be flaunted, and the issues that affect the health care system ought to be a matter of public record. But a part of me (probably the part of me that is my mother) hesitates, wondering if my voice needs to be the one shouting in the wilderness. Because there are usually only two kinds of voices that shout into the wild, and neither of them are very well-loved.
Not that I’m afraid of consequences – even though I probably should be – but I feel like distance is needed in order for clarity to emerge. Objectivity is perhaps better in hindsight. The kind of hindsight that lets me write deliberately rather than rashly. If I’m going to be frowned at I want my actions to be worth it.
Distance is growing, and objectivity with it. I hope I will soon be able to write about the issues that affect me as a person without worrying about whether I’m compromising the institutions I work for. Whether these institutions deserve to be compromised (or are already compromised) is another matter entirely.