Disclaimer: This post isn’t about anger or blame. It’s about awareness and accountability. The violence healthcare workers face every day isn’t rare, and it’s time we stop calling it “part of the job.”

One thought keeps jumping in my head, over and over:
The abuse in healthcare.

It’s something we have normalized for far too long.
We have become numb to it, conditioned to accept it.
Deceived into believing it’s just part of the job.

We even make excuses for it, as if it were an unavoidable side effect of caring for the sick:

• “The patient is sick, so it’s OK.”
• “The patient is old, so it’s OK.”
• “The patient is confused, so it’s OK.”
• “The patient is in the hospital; therefore, it’s OK.”

But it’s not OK.
Abuse is never OK.

In any other profession, it would have immediate consequences.
In healthcare, those consequences are too often diluted, ignored, brushed aside, or forgotten until the next time it happens again.

The Normalization of Violence

Violence against healthcare workers isn’t rare.
It’s disturbingly common.

According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, healthcare and social service workers are five times more likely to experience workplace violence than any other industry.

Violence is not the exception.
It’s the routine.

I have experienced it.
I have been spit on, kicked, grabbed, groped, hit, sexually harassed, verbally assaulted, gaslighted, subjected to racial remarks, and yes, punched in the head.
Once, a patient even tried to bite me.

These acts didn’t always leave visible marks, but they carved deep scars into my mind and spirit, scars that linger long after the bruises fade.

Ask any nurse, and they’ll tell you about the abuse they face like they’re talking about the weather.
That’s how normal it has become.
Most of the time, we let it happen without consequence.

Why We Stay Silent

Some of us were too innocent, too forgiving of inappropriate behavior.
Some of us, like me, didn’t want to make a fuss.
Some were conditioned to think, “If there’s no bruise, it’s not a big deal.”

But if anyone outside of healthcare faced the same violence we endure?
There would be outrage. Headlines. Consequences.

“The patient is confused,” they say.
I have been a patient too. I was punched by a patient so hard that I was diagnosed with a concussion, post-concussion syndrome, and post-traumatic vision syndrome.
I have been confused, disoriented, delirious, scared, even hallucinating –
And I wasn’t throwing punches.

Abuse is a choice.
We need to stop excusing it.

The Way We’re Seen

Part of the problem lies in how society perceives nurses.
Some see us as strong, tireless advocates.
Others see us as saints or superheroes, mythical beings who never complain, never need protection, never break.

And some?
They see us as less than human.

Here’s the truth: we are human.

We have families. We have bills. We bleed. We cry. We laugh- and we hurt, especially when that pain comes from the very people we are trying to help.

Yet we’re encouraged to hide that pain.
To be “professional,” “compassionate,” and “forgiving,” even while being verbally or physically abused.

The System’s Double Standard

The culture of healthcare often fosters silence, with phrases like “tough it out,” “brush it off,” and “how could you have prevented it.”
Violence is downplayed as a minor inconvenience rather than what it really is:
An assault on our dignity, a betrayal of our safety, and a violation of our humanity.

Unsafe staffing makes it worse.
We hear: “We’re short-staffed. You’ll just have to make do.”

But unsafe staffing isn’t an inconvenience.
It’s violence prevention gone wrong.
Stress escalates. Frustration boils over. Mistakes happen.
And violence follows.

Would the rates of violence be the same if we had enough staff?
No.
If you can’t see that, it may be because it’s easier not to.

“Safe staffing is essential to workplace violence prevention,” says National Nurses United.

The evidence is there – if you care enough to look.

When “Burnout” Isn’t the Word

People like to toss around the word burnout.
Yes, burnout is real – but let’s not use it as a band-aid word.
Let’s call it what it is: abuse.

When we’re assaulted and our leaders do nothing, it sends a chilling message:
“This is acceptable.”

We’re told to handle it ourselves.
To wear our “big girl/boy pants.”
To keep quiet.

But silence doesn’t protect us. It only protects the problem.

Reporting it? It’s an exhausting, bureaucratic marathon that often leads nowhere.
I have filled out incident reports that went straight into a shredder.

The patients who assaulted me?
Still there. Still doing it.
Because they know they’ll get away with it.

But imagine if the roles were reversed –
A nurse assaults a patient?
Sound the alarms. Call the police. Launch an investigation.
Headlines. Arrest. Jail. Career over.

That double standard is soul-crushing.

The Human Cost

Right now, somewhere, a healthcare provider is being screamed at, shoved, or spit on.
They are probably brushing it off because they learned it’s safer to stay silent.

This normalization of violence chips away at who we are.
It teaches us to swallow fear, bury our pain, and keep going, even when every instinct says stop.

But it matters.

It matters when you can’t sleep at night, replaying the moment you were hit.
It matters when you start flinching at sudden movements.
It matters when your safety is sacrificed for “patient satisfaction.”

We’re expected to be healers, but how can we heal when we’re under threat?
How can we continue to care when the world treats us as if our lives are disposable and replaceable?

We Deserve Better

Violence doesn’t just leave bruises; it leaves invisible scars that never truly fade.
It erodes morale. It erodes trust. It erodes our sense of safety.

The system shrugs.
Calls it an “unfortunate incident.”
Moves on and leaves us behind.

Because to stop and honestly acknowledge the violence would mean admitting something uncomfortable:
We are not just caregivers.
We are targets.

And the job we’re asked to do, day after day, night after night, comes with a price no one should have to pay.

I’m done pretending it’s OK.
Because it’s not.

We deserve to be safe.
We deserve to be protected.
We deserve workplaces where violence isn’t brushed aside and called exactly what it is:

Unacceptable. Preventable. Inexcusable.

I Refuse to Be Silent

I carry the scars of these violent encounters every day, even if you can’t see them.
But I refuse to let my silence be another wound.

Because we’re not punching bags.
We’re not expendable.

We are human, and we deserve to be treated that way.

Violence on the job is trauma.
It hurts.
It scars.
Sometimes, you see it.
Most of the time, you don’t.

But it’s there –
And it’s time we stop pretending it’s not.

If you have experienced violence in healthcare, share your story. Awareness begins when silence ends.
– it would help foster engagement and solidarity.

References and Resources

Bureau of Labor Statistics. (2018). Workplace violence in healthcare. U.S. Department of Labor. https://www.bls.gov/iif/factsheets/workplace-violence-healthcare-2018.htm

National Nurses United. (2024, February 5). NNU report shows increased rates of workplace violence experienced by nurses. https://www.nationalnursesunited.org/press/nnu-report-shows-increased-rates-of-workplace-violence-experienced-by-nurses

American Nurses Association. (2023, November 7). Nurses Foundation says action still needed to address serious nursing workforce challenges. https://www.nursingworld.org/news/news-releases/2023/the-american-nurses-foundation-says-action-is-still-needed-to-address-serious-nursing-workforce-challenges/

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