💔 When the Fixer Has to Stay Quiet

It’s hard to sit in silence when you know how to solve the problem.

Hard to watch the seams come undone when you’ve spent your whole life stitching things back together.

Hard to resist the urge to guide, to teach, to help—especially when you know what’s being missed and how it will affect the team, the patients, the whole flow of the day.

I’m wired to care.
I’m wired to act.
I’m wired to fix.

But right now, I’m being asked to… not.

To stay in my lane.
To watch the train wreck from the platform.
To let people stumble through what I could prevent in a single sentence.

And it’s exhausting.

Because I was taught to be early.
To be thorough.
To be responsible for what’s mine and aware of what’s around me.

And now I’m surrounded by a different culture.
One where things are delayed, forgotten, overlooked… and no one seems to notice.

Except me.

I don’t want to be the tattletale.
I don’t want to be seen as difficult.
But silence feels like betrayal—
Not just to my own standards,
But to the job I care about so deeply.

So I’m caught between peace and truth,
Between staying quiet and standing tall.Because sometimes, fixing things means naming what’s broken—
Even if you’re the only one who sees it.