An Immigrant's Woes

It's been a while since I last blogged in this site. The past few weeks have been very tiring both physically and emotionally.

When we decided to migrate here in the US, my husband and I made sure we were one in mind with our decision because we did not want to end up blaming the other should we experience hardships. Our Filipino friends who migrated were relating stories of that point in their first year in the US where they experienced the difficulty of adjusting which consequently put a strain in their relationship.

Our trial began when a couple of my co-workers started to resign from the acute dialysis team because of internal problems in the system which led to long hours of work and high job dissatisfaction. For them, it was easy to just hand in their resignation. For a migrant worker like me, you are bound to the contract that you signed. Besides, I really did not mind the internal rift going on. I simply did my work, went home and enjoyed my family.

But things started to go bad for me when I learned that a few more people handed in their resignation and we ended up working 17-18 hours a day because we were so short-staffed already. The management in turn had to hire new people for orientation to address the problem. Then I learned that I was being paid way lower than an orientee. I was burning out so fast and my morale was taking the deep plunge. I became very short-tempered at home. My kids were complaining that they hardly see me anymore. My husband had to listen to my constant complaints at work, my bodily aches and pain and whatever there was to complain about. Then I found my hope. I could transfer to a chronic facility without actually breaching my contract so I tried to arrange for this transfer to take place. Things became more frustrating when my request for transfer was delayed and a revamp of the acute dialysis program was implemented. The winter weather proved to be more of a foe than an ally as I fought to conquer the depressing state I was in. I felt I was plunged in a world of darkness where my only comfort was my husband's listening ear and understanding embrace and the peace I felt whenever I cried out in frustration to God in prayer.

Then one night, when I was once again on my endless tirrade of complaints, my husband told me to remember the time when we first arrived. He reminded me how grateful we were about all the blessings. He reminded me of all the graces we received these past few months. And I stopped and remembered. Just like that. I remembered. Then the darkness was overcome by light. All my resentment evaporated. I ceased to feel abused, exploited and victimized. God made me see that whatever they are doing to me, they are only able to do because God allowed them to. God is still in control of the situation. And I realized that this was precisely how Jesus thought of His passion and death. He went through the pain without grudge, knowing that justice and mercy will be served in the end. That realization was pure grace for me... and salvation at that instant.

Now I can talk about it, write about it and still feel peace. Because I know that God is in control. And everything has a reason and a purpose. And for some miracle, the moment I accepted the trial with an open heart and mind, things started to become better. Travel nurses were hired to replace the ones who left. Patient census dwindled that I did not have to work longer than 14 hours anymore. My kids are happier, my family is more at peace as well. And as though on cue, the winter weather lifted up to welcome the smell of spring. The sun is shining and the snow has melted. In three days, daylight saving time begins and spring will soon be here. Hopefully, by then, my situation will improve some more. I have a strong feeling it will.