In Nursing, the Drama is Real: Breaking the Cycle

In the world of nursing, it often feels like a high school drama. The cliques, the whispers, the not-so-subtle backstabbing—it’s a familiar landscape for anyone who’s walked the hospital halls. Having experienced it firsthand during my clinical attachments, I thought I was prepared. But stepping inside as a new graduate nurse? It’s a whole new level of chaos.

Take the tea room—our so-called sanctuary. Or, as many call it, the staff pantry. It’s the heart of gossip where news spreads like wildfire, and drama unfolds over cups of coffee.

It was nine in the morning, and I had just finished my first case in the Operating Theatre. New to the role and already overwhelmed, I found myself navigating the labyrinth of the hospital to the Angiogram Department in Basement X. The adrenaline was pumping, my heart racing as I ran back and forth, sweating bullets. All I wanted was a moment of peace with my honey star cereal mixed in hot Milo—a strange but comforting combination.

I finally sank into an armchair in the tea room, letting out a sigh of relief, only to have my moment shattered. The “triple threat” strutted in—let’s call them Green, Pink, and Blue. It didn’t take long for the gossip to start, and today’s special was a doozy: “Saturday’s Chaos” and “Sunday’s Sickness.”

Saturday’s Chaos:

• Green griped about a colleague’s incompetence as charge nurse.

• Pink, with decades of experience, lamented that new grad nurses were growing lazy.

• Blue, ever the follower, nodded along, adding little but silence.

I had learned early on that diving into someone else’s drama rarely ends well, but my ears perked up when the conversation turned to “Sunday’s Sickness.” They were targeting one of our own—let’s call her Aphrodite.

The accusations flew around the room, claiming Aphrodite’s sick leave was unearned, that taking a sick day without a doctor’s note on a weekend was outrageous. The irony? Aphrodite is one of the hardest-working new graduate nurses I know. She steps up when others falter, rarely calls in sick, and genuinely cares about her patients and colleagues.

Hearing Blue—one of our Sisters—join in the gossip was disheartening.

“Why did you even approve the sick leave?” Pink prompted, her voice dripping with judgment.

“I had no choice,” Blue replied, backpedaling. “If something goes wrong at work, I can’t take the blame.”

My stomach turned. Here was a Sister, supposed to support her team, joining the ranks of the gossips.

As they tore into Aphrodite, I couldn’t help but wonder: if they spoke this way about her—someone so dedicated—what would they say about a mediocre new grad like myself? I shuddered at the thought.

Nursing is indeed a girl’s world, but it’s not a “girls support girls” kind of environment. It’s a toxic echo chamber where hierarchy reigns supreme. If you’re not a Sister or a veteran with thirty years under your belt, your voice is easily drowned out. And if you don’t play the game, you risk being sidelined.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. To the “triple threat,” I urge you to reflect on your actions. Every time you gossip or belittle a new grad, you contribute to a cycle that crushes passion and enthusiasm for nursing.

To my fellow new grads, let’s break this cycle. We are the future of nursing, and we deserve an environment where support, kindness, and collaboration prevail over gossip and hierarchy.

Together, we can redefine our culture, ensuring it’s one that fosters growth and encourages us all to thrive.

Let’s stand up, support each other, and demand a change. The only way we can truly succeed is by lifting one another up, not tearing each other down. It’s time to rewrite the narrative in our nursing community—because if we don’t, we risk losing the very passion that brought us here in the first place.

#Lemon8