When a Little Relief Feels Like a Big Win: Nurses and Midwives Finally Get What They Deserve (Sort Of)
A few years ago, I found myself in a hospital corridor at 2 AM, clutching a cup of terrible vending machine coffee while my sister was in labour. I remember watching this young nurse pacing up and down, checking on patients like her life depended on it — when really, it was everyone else’s life she was fighting for.
That image stuck with me. Maybe that’s why, every time I see news about nurses and midwives fighting for their allowances, I get this weird lump in my throat. It just feels… unfair, you know? These folks stay on their feet for 12-hour shifts (sometimes more — I know, because I asked once) and then they have to beg for what’s rightfully theirs? It doesn’t sit well.
So, when I read that the government’s finally agreed to pay two allowances nurses and midwives have been demanding, I did this tiny fist pump at my desk. It’s not a jackpot. But it’s something. From what I gather, these allowances — Book and Research, plus On-Call Duty Facilitation — have been a bone of contention for ages. Imagine doing extra work, staying longer, filling in gaps in a broken system… and your paycheque just shrugs and walks away.
In my opinion (I may be wrong, but humour me), paying these allowances isn’t a favour. It’s basic decency. It’s like when you promise your kid dessert for doing homework — you don’t get a medal for giving them the ice cream later. You’re just keeping your word.
But here’s what gets me: how come it always takes protests, threats of strikes, or actual strikes to get these things done? I was scrolling through social media last night (instead of sleeping — classic me) and I saw a nurse comment: “We spend more time in meetings fighting for our dues than we do at home with our kids.” That stings.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure if this push would work. It always feels like these promises come and go like the morning dew — here now, gone by afternoon. But maybe, just maybe, this time it’ll stick. Nurses and midwives deserve to walk into work knowing they’re valued. Not just in fancy speeches on International Nurses Day, but on their payslip every month.
I know the world’s messed up and perfect solutions don’t exist. But can we at least agree that the people keeping our mothers, sisters, brothers, and babies alive shouldn’t have to jump through hoops for allowances that, let’s face it, are peanuts compared to what they give?
So here’s my late-night coffee thought for you: if we keep pushing our caregivers to the edge, who’ll be left to care for us when we’re the ones in that hospital corridor at 2 AM?
Something to chew on.