Dr Shan Shan Jing's Story
“Healing is not returning to who we were. It's discovering who we are becoming.” — Brianna Wiest
As a British plastic surgeon working in New Zealand during the COVID-19 pandemic, I never imagined that my greatest test would come not in the operating theatre, but on the drive home.
A high-speed accident claimed my partner’s life and set me on a new path of self-discovery. In that moment, I was forced to confront my own mortality— and the profound fragility of life.
Throughout my recovery, I was buoyed by the unwavering support of medical professionals. That experience deepened my appreciation for the power of compassionate care. As a patient, I witnessed not only the strengths of the system, but also its many fractures: bureaucratic hurdles, fragmented services, and the isolation that can come from navigating it all alone.
I found strength not only in the process of healing, but in the resilience of the human spirit.
Surprisingly, this wasn’t my first accident. In 2016, I was struck by a car due to a careless driver. Both moments—separated by years but united by trauma— changed everything. It may be difficult to understand,
but I am deeply grateful to have experienced life in such magnitude—and to still be here.
These events gave me a renewed sense of purpose I might never have otherwise discovered. While I continue to navigate the emotional and physical aftermath, I feel privileged to return to my role as a surgeon—where my mission now extends beyond reconstruction.
It is about rebirth: helping patients rebuild their lives and reclaim a sense of identity.
I hope to advocate for a healthcare system that is truly patient-centred—one that understands personal struggle and supports people through the complexities of recovery.
Because at its core, medicine is not just about treatment—it’s about humanity. And that is our shared responsibility.
On Health Access and Equity
1. Can you describe some barriers you faced as a healthcare professional trying to access care within the New Zealand healthcare system?
Recovering in a foreign country gave me insight into the hidden challenges many patients silently endure.
One of the greatest obstacles was the lack of coordinated care—both within the hospital and during transition to community-based rehabilitation. Without a local network, I had to navigate the system largely on my own: organising appointments, initiating referrals, and managing my health during an already difficult time. Sometimes, it is in our most vulnerable moments that we’re often forced to take charge of our own healing.
As a temporary visa holder, registering with a GP during the pandemic posed additional hurdles, limiting access to prescriptions and essential services. Navigating the administrative demands of ACC and WellNZ was also time-consuming and frustrating, even with a medical background.
These experiences highlighted how easily people can slip through the cracks of a fragmented system. Healthcare should be built around people first— regardless of their social standing or circumstances.
2. What lessons did you learn from navigating these challenges, and how do they reflect the broader issues in healthcare access for all patients?
Navigating a fragmented system taught me that healthcare must be holistic, efficient, and
fundamentally centred around the patient.
One of the key lessons was understanding the delicate balance between operational efficiency and genuine human connection. When systems become overly bureaucratic, there’s a risk that processes begin to take precedence over people—leaving patients feeling like case numbers rather than individuals with unique needs.
This sense of disconnection can be deeply isolating, especially for those without social support, and may even erode a person’s sense of who they once were.
Ultimately, healthcare should be guided by a philosophy of kindness. Ensuring that patients feel seen, heard, and supported throughout their journey doesn’t just improve their experience—it can meaningfully elevate their outcomes.
3. In your experience, what systemic changes are necessary to ensure health equity across all communities in New Zealand?
For New Zealand to build a healthcare system that is both innovative and equitable, it must begin with better coordination and integration.
Integrated mental and physical health services: Recovery is never just physical—it is deeply intertwined with one’s emotional and mental well-being. We need a system that treats the whole person, not just their clinical data.
Inclusive and accountable leadership: Equity thrives in a system that listens. By engaging with diverse voices—particularly from underserved communities—and remaining open to change, we can shape care that truly reflects the needs of every population.
On Workplace Support and Well-being
1. How did your physical incapacity impact your work life balance and relationship with your employer?
Balancing the demands of recovery with the expectations of work was exhausting—physically, emotionally, and mentally. The scepticism I encountered revealed a painful truth: when confronted with another’s suffering, people often retreat—not out of malice, but from fear or discomfort.
Still, giving up was never an option. I was fortunate to have friends and colleagues who believed in me, advocated for my return, and reminded me of my worth. Their belief became a lifeline—proof that compassion can be a powerful force in someone’s healing journey.
Reflecting on that experience, I am profoundly grateful to those who stood by me and trusted in my ability to return, even when the path ahead felt uncertain. That faith continues to support me as I learn to adapt—to new emotional realities, and to the lingering challenges that come with both past and recent injuries.
Life after trauma can feel fractured. But in those moments, it’s important to remember: we are not defined by what we endure, but by how we rise in the face of despair. I chose to walk in faith—guided by the quiet strength of compassion and the resilience of the human spirit.
2. What kind of workplace support would have made a difference for you during this challenging period?
True workplace support goes beyond policies—it’s about fostering a culture of community, where people feel a genuine sense of belonging and safety in their vulnerability.
In my case, the first thing that would have made a significant difference was a phased return-to-work programme—one that acknowledged both physical and emotional recovery. Rather than being benchmarked against my former, highly independent self, I needed a structured yet flexible plan that allowed for gradual reintegration, free from the weight of unrealistic expectations.
Second, open and empathetic communication. Recovery can be deeply isolating, and silence often amplifies the fear of being misunderstood. Instead of being handed tokenistic tasks, I needed honest conversations about workload, responsibilities, and reasonable adjustments. Early access to dedicated occupational health specialists would also have been invaluable as both my employer and I navigated the transition.
Third, we must not underestimate the power of small, meaningful gestures—especially from leadership. A quick corridor check-in, a kind word, a listening ear, or even an intentional question like, “How are you really doing?” can offer immense comfort and reassurance.
It feels especially poignant—and at times, ironic—that in healthcare organisations, whose mission is to care for others, the well-being of their own staff is often overlooked. As Simon Sinek put it, “The leaders who get the most out of their people are the leaders who care most about their people.”
Supporting staff through adversity isn’t just a contractual obligation—it’s an investment in the long-term sustainability of the workforce. In a profession where the stakes are incredibly high, I believe the absence of holistic support is a major contributor to the workforce shortages we face today.
3. Has the COVID-19 pandemic amplified discussions around the mental and emotional toll of healthcare work? If so, how?
Absolutely.
The COVID-19 pandemic laid bare the unwavering commitment of healthcare professionals, who became beacons of hope amid unprecedented challenges. But it also exposed the profound emotional and mental toll of our work—pressures that had long been minimised or overlooked.
For too long, we’ve worked in systems that prioritised productivity over wellbeing, where self-sacrifice was quietly expected. The pandemic pushed this already overstretched model to its breaking point, making the need for genuine, structural support impossible to ignore.
Fortunately, the narrative is starting to shift. Resilience is no longer viewed as an individual burden; it’s increasingly recognised as a shared responsibility—one that must be embedded into workplace culture.
We now need to transition decisively toward a value-over volume model: one that prioritises quality care, ensures fairer working conditions, and provides healthcare workers with timely access to mental and emotional support.
4. How can healthcare employers create a culture that better supports doctors' well-being and reduces burnout?
Supporting the well-being of healthcare professionals requires an equitable ecosystem that puts the humanity of healthcare
first—not just through familiar policies, but through the consistent, everyday practice of the following:
Sustainable Workloads
Safe staffing levels and flexible scheduling are essential. Healthcare professionals need protected time to rest and recover in order to care for others effectively.
Recognition and Fair Reward
Fair pay is just the beginning. Genuine appreciation—through kind words, written acknowledgements, or professional recognition—reinforces a sense of value and motivation.
Access to Mental Health Support
Emotional resilience must be supported, not silently expected. Open conversations around workload and work-related stress build camaraderie and trust—powerful antidotes to burnout. Confidential counselling, mentorship programmes, and stress management resources must be visible, de-stigmatised, and easily accessible.
Streamlining Bureaucracy
Reducing unnecessary administrative burdens frees staff to focus on what matters most: patients and purpose.
Promoting a No-Blame Culture
Healthcare workers are human, and humans are fallible. Mistakes should be met with empathy and understanding, not blame. When leaders model vulnerability and normalise asking for help, they foster environments where learning, innovation, and trust can flourish.
Tranquil Recovery Spaces
Restorative environments—such as hospital gardens or calm staff lounges—offer much-needed moments of pause during intense days. Even a few minutes of stillness can help replenish emotional reserves.
At its heart, healthcare is about human connection. By investing in staff well-being today, we safeguard compassionate, high-quality care for tomorrow.
On Self-Care and Mental Health in Medicine
1. You mentioned the importance of self-care as the foundation of healthcare. Can you elaborate on how this shift in mindset could transform medical practice?
I often reflect on the early days of my training, when I routinely pushed myself past my limits—skipping meals, ignoring thirst, rushing through each day as if there were no time to pause. In the short term, adrenaline kept me going. But eventually, these habits took a toll—not just on my physical health, but on my ability to be fully present.
I came to realise that self-care isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity. We all know the adage: “You cannot pour from an empty cup.”
When we neglect our own well-being, our clinical judgment falters—and in our profession, every decision carries the weight of a human life.
Systemic change is essential, but the responsibility also begins with each of us. When we make space for rest and recovery, we show up more energised, more focused. This fosters stronger teamwork, sharper thinking, and ultimately, better outcomes for our patients.
When we lead by example and prioritise our own health, that commitment reverberates outward—to every patient, every colleague, and every family we serve.
2. How can healthcare professionals prioritise their own health, especially in high-pressure roles?
In high-pressure roles, prioritising our health requires courage, discipline, and intentionality. We must first grant ourselves permission to practise self-compassion—to honour boundaries between work and life. That means cultivating self-awareness, pressing reset when needed, seeking help without shame, and making space for our loved ones—without the ever-present fear of falling short in our professional duties.
When we embrace self-care, we not only protect our own well-being—we model the very values we encourage in our patients. Balance isn’t indulgent; it’s essential. And when we honour that, we help build a healthcare system that can adapt, endure, and serve in a world that needs us more than ever.
On Advocacy and Systemic Change
1. You propose a global movement encouraging healthcare professionals to prioritise their own well being. What would be the key pillars of such a movement?
For me, this global movement would be grounded in four foundational pillars, captured in the acronym I’ve coined: CARE.
Cultivate Awareness
Recognise the intrinsic value of every healthcare professional—and understand that nurturing ourselves is essential in a profession that demands so much of us.
Advocate for Understanding
By having honest conversations about our well-being— with ourselves, our colleagues, and our organisations— we strengthen our capacity to care for others.
Resilience through Support Networks
Foster communities that prioritise team well-being. In times of crisis, these networks help us face challenges with shared strength and compassion.
Empower through Advocacy
Give clinicians a seat at the table in shaping the systems
and policies they work within. When organisations commit to shared responsibility for staff well-being, true transformation becomes possible. To paraphrase an African proverb: we may travel faster alone, but we go further together.
By embracing these pillars, I hope the CARE movement can spark a global shift—where staff well-being is woven into the very fabric of every healthcare system.
2. Can you share your thoughts on the U.S. Burnout Reduction Act? Would a similar approach be effective in New Zealand?
The U.S. Burnout Reduction Act is a meaningful leap forward—one we should aim to embody globally. It reinforces a vital truth: caring for caregivers must be a systemic priority.
In New Zealand, burnout remains a pressing concern. A recent British Medical Journal study by Boyle et al. (2025) found that 80% of 509 resident doctors reported high levels of burnout in at least one of three dimensions —emotional exhaustion, depersonalisation, and low personal accomplishment—with 26% scoring high in all three. Another study found that medical doctors face nearly twice the burnout risk of other workforce groups.
While direct comparisons between locally trained and internationally recruited doctors are limited, qualitative data reveal distinct challenges: locally trained doctors often shoulder greater administrative burdens, while
international colleagues may experience discrimination and professional isolation. These differences call for a culturally sensitive, multifaceted response.
New Zealand has a unique opportunity to lead with empathy and innovation by developing burnout prevention strategies tailored to its healthcare workforce. These should include the previously outlined recommendations. In addition, protections against workplace discrimination—particularly for internationally recruited staff—should be strengthened, with active support from bodies such as the Medical Council of New Zealand.
This is our moment to honour the healers, the helpers— the hands that carry us through our most difficult days. As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
While change takes time, it is up to all of us to flex the muscle of progress and challenge the status quo.
