At the age of 13 I went to work at my first "real" job, pumping gas in a station in the small Texas town where I grew up. By real, I mean the first job where I was actually paid, as opposed to the free "child labor" on our small & struggling family farm. Growing up in the country provided me with a multitude of advantages, none of which I recognized until many years later. I fed cows, pigs and chickens; picked up eggs, washed and candled them using the rudimentary machinery available; pulled weeds from the garden; mowed grass; and hauled hay in the summertime as well as anything else that needed doing. Only having to pump gas, clean windshields, air up tires, and check oil levels for an 8 hour stretch seemed like a vacation by comparison. And I got paid $5.00 a day!
Fast forward 47 years, and the attraction of full time employment was beginning to wane. Forty one of those years were spent in the Operating Room in one role or another, 37 as a Registered Nurse, and the last 27 in administrative roles. Many exciting changes occurred during that time, and it was always thrilling to be an active participant in many of those almost miraculous advances.
Many other changes, not nearly as uplifting, were being forced upon the entire healthcare field by more stringent government regulations and changes in reimbursement by the government as well as insurance companies. In an effort to successfully cope with these changes, hospital administrations began austerity campaigns, stressing the more efficient provision of care with decreasing staff resources. Anything that might affect the corporate bottom line was(and is) scrutinized to see if it can be done cheaper by fewer people. Entire departments have been eliminated, with their functions being outsourced, transferred to other departments, or eliminated entirely. Last year's productivity study could result in this year's firings, without regard to current workload and staff requirements.
This unsettled environment, with the physical stress of trying to do more work with fewer trained bodies, along with the mental and emotional stress of never knowing what might happen next, led me to decide that it was time for me to seriously consider retirement. There were many unknowns. Would I be able to adjust to not going to a job after a lifetime of working full time? Would I habitually awake early each morning as I had done for decades? Would I be able to financially afford retirement? Would my Lovely Bride grow tired of me being under foot all the time, and try to suffocate me in my sleep?
As I thought of retirement, I considered other factors. I have known many people over the years who worked diligently, saving and preparing for their retirement so they would be able to enjoy their "golden years". Sadly, many times those dreams of traveling, fishing or maybe just enjoying their grand children were disrupted when they or their spouse became ill or suffered some physical calamity. One or the other became unable to do those things they had hoped for and worked toward for so many years. Rather than working as long as physically possible, would we be better served by consciously choosing to retire earlier, planning to exist on a smaller income, but able to spend more time together doing those things we had dreamed of?
After pondering these questions for several months, I decided I needed to break away from work. On February 1st, I embarked upon a new stage in my life as a retiree. Whether or not it will actually "take", remains to be seen.
So far, I haven't missed working at all. I discovered I have no problem sleeping until after the sun comes up. Unfortunately, I still don't know for sure if I can afford to be retired, but I'm sure trying to make it work. Oh yeah, and my Lovely Bride may sometimes wish I would find something to do outside of the house, but she seems to feel my being underfoot is a fair price to pay for the alteration in my stress level and my mellower attitude.
