Caught Between Care and Collapse: The Human Cost of Institutional Burnout
This overarching theme serves as the central narrative of this study. It encapsulates the emotional and ethical conflicts RTs face as they strive to uphold professional integrity and compassion within a system defined by persistent institutional pressures. This core tension is further explored through three subthemes: (1) the physical and emotional depletion caused by systemic demands, (2) the psychological impact of professional invisibility, and (3) the sense of institutional entrapment. Together, these themes demonstrate how structural and organisational conditions shape the lived reality of burnout for RTs.
Theme 1: Living Within a System that Drains the Self.
This theme serves as the foundational narrative of the conditions and pressures associated with burnout, illustrating how systemic and organisational factors such as chronic understaffing act as key contributors to RT burnout. This theme represents the first stage of the “Collapse,” where the therapist’s physical and temporal boundaries are overwhelmed by the needs of the institution.
Subtheme 1.1 A System that Consumes the Body and Time.
Severe staff shortages were identified by most as the primary factor contributing to burnout risk. They reported caring for as many as ten patients simultaneously, many of whom were critically ill, describing this ratio as both physically impossible and a source of deep moral distress. When a therapist is stretched across ten critically ill patients, care is reduced to a checklist of survival tasks rather than holistic therapy. P11 captured this sense of inadequacy, saying: “Sometimes I’m alone with ten patients! I feel like I’m neglecting them all, but it’s really impossible for me to give them the attention they need.” (P11). This highlights that the drain is not just physical; it is the psychological weight of a sense of powerlessness and knowing that they cannot provide the quality of care their professional ethics demands.
The 12-h shift structure was another major contributor to this depletion. This long hours schedule tethered RTs to the workplace, leaving little room for family or social engagement and evoking feelings of guilt and internal conflict between roles.
Participants described these shifts as a “daily battle” that inevitably encroaches on their private lives. P5 noted that such schedules “ are very tiring and ruin your social life, especially if you have a family.” This guilt is rooted in the conflict between their professional identity and their roles at home. “This tension was particularly strong among married participants, who described a heavier emotional burden when trying to balance these 12-h shifts with family responsibilities compared to their single colleagues. As P8 explained, the administrative and clinical load becomes so heavy that: “The work becomes annoying rather than comfortable... if one or two employees are missing, it causes major problems for the whole system.”
As the current structure feels unsustainable, participants identified specific systemic changes as the best path to restore professional balance. As P10 noted: “I wish the shift would be changed to eight hours to make things easier.”
The cumulative impact of these structural pressures, such as long hours, high patient loads, and emotional drain, led participants to describe stress not as simple fatigue but as a daily battle in which time becomes the enemy. As one participant reflected:
“The pressure from the patient ratio and long hours changes care from a therapeutic practice into a series of tasks, with the sole goal being ‘get through the day.’” (P1).
Although this study included participants from the ICU, ER, and general wards, their experience of ‘The Drain’ was consistent across all settings, regardless of their specific clinical assignment for the day.
Subtheme 1.2 Mental Exhaustion.
Interviews revealed a state of profound emotional exhaustion, where sustained physical tiredness transitioned into psychological depletion. This represents the point where the care aspect of the job begins to feel unsustainable. Many expressed that after years in high-stress environments like the ICU, their minds had become as weary as their bodies. This exhaustion transcended tiredness, becoming an emotional paralysis that eroded empathy, patience, and motivation and increased susceptibility to burnout. P9 shared a haunting account of this breaking point: “I continued, continued, until I exploded at the wrong time... I didn’t want anyone to see me in that weakness.
As the boundaries between their body and mind have blurred, the collapse often manifests in moments of raw, uncontrolled emotion. Continuous exposure to critically ill patients, combined with unrelenting demands and insufficient rest, left them unable to fully engage with their work or those around them. One participant admitted, “I was doing my work while crying” (P9), while another noted “becoming impatient and without energy” (P7).
For many, this state was more than fatigue. It represents the gradual disappearance of self within the system, where the clinician’s capacity to act as healer is constrained, leaving them as a reactive component of the hospital machinery. Compassion gave way to routine, as sustained exhaustion limited their ability to emotionally engage in care. This transformation was most poignantly summarised by P1, who described the end-stage of this process as becoming “a machine that breathes for others but forgets to breathe for itself”.
Theme 2. Losing Meaning and Recognition.
While Theme 1 describes the depletion of emotional and cognitive capacity under sustained workload, Theme 2 shifts focus to the erosion of meaning and professional value that emerged when such exhaustion was compounded by institutional neglect and lack of recognition. This stage marks a critical transition in the collapse, where therapists move from being physically depleted to experiencing a loss of purpose and professional fulfilment.
Subtheme 2.1: When Passion Turns into Duty.
Participants consistently reported that their work, once fueled by compassion, had been reduced under the weight of constant systemic pressure to mere obligation. This transition from a professional calling to a repetitive, emotionally detached routine represents a significant stage of the collapse, where internal resources are simply exhausted. As one therapist reflected on this shift, “We’ve become just doing what’s required, without any motivation or passion” (P5).
Their accounts revealed a transition from genuine motivation to emotional numbness. What drained their passion was not just a temporary state of fatigue, but it resulted in a permanent detachment from the clinical bedside. P 10 explained this point of no return, saying, “I’ve had enough of the bedside... if I think of leaving [this hospital], I won’t think of going to another hospital to be a bedside RT again. I’ve had enough”
This feeling of “ I’ve had enough” indicates that the feelings of burnout have evolved into withdrawal from the professional identity of a specialist. Similarly, P11 described how the depletion of energy leads to a decline in the quality of professional presence, where work is no longer a source of pride, but something performed “anyway”: “I don’t want to reach a level where I have no energy and my work becomes ‘just anything’... it’s easier to just stay in a stable place with regular hours.” This detachment signifies the moment where care is no longer the core objective. Instead, the clinician enters a survival mode, trading professional empathy for a psychological mechanism aimed at conserving their remaining emotional reserves.
Consequently, the overarching goal is no longer the patient’s recovery but surviving till the end of the shift.
In this sense, participants described a form of moral fatigue that reflects a key psychosocial dimension linked to burnout, where therapists continued to value patient care in theory but felt too “numb” to engage with it in practice.
While the loss of passion was common across accounts, the experience varied by seniority. Junior RTs often described a “reality shock,” marked by distress over feeling unable to provide adequate care due to ratios, as reflected in P11’s account. In contrast, senior RTs spoke of a deeper saturation that developed over time, as captured by P10 (nine years’ experience) who stated, “I’ve had enough of the bedside… I have nothing more to give.” This suggests that prolonged exposure to the same structural pressures shapes how professional disengagement emerges.
Subtheme 2.2: Organisational Injustice and Professional Misrecognition.
This disconnect between the frontline reality and managerial perception represents a secondary stage of the “Collapse,” where the struggle for care is silenced by the institution. Participants consistently cited unfair treatment and poor leadership as key factors in their experiences of distress and burnout risk. They described a culture that valued compliance and public image over fairness and empathy. P7 stated, “We demand simple rights, such as infection allowance, but the administration doesn’t care. They say, ‘This is your job.’”.
Several RTs viewed leadership as symbolic rather than substantive, perceiving it as more invested in projecting an ideal image than confronting on-the-ground realities. As P4 noted, “Management only wants to hear positive things,” treating critique as a threat rather than a chance for improvement. Another participant confirmed, “Management doesn’t want to hear about problems. They want us to say everything is fine, even if the situation isn’t perfect. The important thing is that the image looks good in front of them.” (P5).
In some cases, participants were expected to achieve ideal performance despite inadequate human resources or limited equipment. P3 highlighted this contradiction: “The manager talks about quality but doesn’t go out and see the real suffering in the department.” Together, these narratives depict an organisation where appearance trumps compassion, and where fairness and open communication are replaced by silence and frustration.
This sense of injustice is compounded by the RT’s struggle within the interprofessional hierarchy. Participants reported that their specialised knowledge was often overlooked by other healthcare providers, limiting their scope for action and diminishing job satisfaction.
P11 explained, “We spend our time justifying our work to nurses or doctors because they don’t understand the nature of our work.” This indicates the conflict was not interpersonal but rooted in a misalignment of professional identity within an unbalanced system.
The constant effort to prove their importance drained therapists’ time and energy, diverting them from clinical duties to defending their professional relevance. As P9 observed, “A major misunderstanding of the role…wasting the specialist’s time justifying protocols”.
Taken together, these accounts suggest that organisational injustice operated at multiple levels through leadership practices that constrained voice and prioritised image, through expectations of “quality” without resources, and through interprofessional hierarchies that undermined recognition of the RT role.
In this context, participants framed their distress not as an individual failing, but a response to an unjust system that prioritises its external reputation over the professional dignity and practical needs of its staff.
However, variations in experience were observed in cases where leadership provided direct support rather than symbolic oversight. These contrasting accounts highlight how active engagement could buffer the sense of injustice. For instance, P8 described a manager who ‘comes with us during crowded times and helps’, fostering a sense of gratitude. The RTs valued this choice to act rather than offer excuses, yet they also recognised the leader’s limitations; they understood that while a supportive supervisor could ease the immediate burden, they remained unable to change the broader systemic constraints. This distinction between individual support and structural failure underscores that relational leadership, while vital, cannot fully compensate for the institutional ‘Collapse’”.
Theme 3. Coping Strategies and Informal Support.
This theme outlines the shared coping mechanisms and informal support systems RTs employed to navigate the emotional and systemic pressures of their roles. It consists of three subthemes that detail these strategies. These strategies did not resolve burnout risk but acted as a compensatory mechanism in the absence of organisational protection.
Subtheme 3.1: Self-Regulation and Burnout Management.
Many participants described active efforts to maintain psychological equilibrium through simple, effective practices. P5 stated, “I try not to think about the issue as much as I can. I need to disconnect before I collapse.”.
A common approach was taking short, preventive breaks to recover emotionally before reaching a breaking point. Many emphasised the importance of temporarily stepping away. As P11 said, “I learned to take a break before I reach the breaking point, it helps me clear my mind and come back able to continue.”.
Others highlighted the value of cultivating hobbies and interests outside work to restore balance and reinforce a non-professional identity. “I try to keep myself busy with something I love outside work so I can feel I have a life beyond the job”, explained P5.
Some participants also used brief mindfulness practices during shifts, such as breathing exercises or silent reflection, to manage acute stress. P9 noted, “These few minutes saved me from exploding”.
These actions were not viewed as luxuries but as essential self-regulation practices that allowed them to remain effective in a demanding environment. Collectively, they reflected an increasing self-awareness and psychological adaptability, an acknowledgement that when institutions fail to protect their staff, personal strategies become the only defence against collapse.
Subtheme 3.2: Peer Support and Proximity Leadership: The Informal Safety Structure.
Interviews revealed that peer relationships provided more support than any formal institutional offering. P10 noted, “Talking to colleagues comforts me more than anything. We try to laugh even in the middle of a crowd.” This highlights the power of emotional solidarity, where friendship forms a psychological network that shares the burden of stress, preventing individual breakdowns. Importantly, reliance on peer solidarity and proximity leadership emerged in place of, rather than in addition to, formal organisational support, underscoring participants’ mistrust of institutional mental health structures.
The role of compassionate, hands-on leadership in reducing burnout was also emphasised. P8 shared, “My manager comes with us during crowded times and helps. This helps us a lot.” Similarly, P4 noted, “As a leader, I try to demand employees’ rights. I feel it is my duty to protect them.” These accounts demonstrate that compassionate and engaged leadership functions as a protective buffer against institutional rigidity. While such leadership cannot eliminate systemic pressures, it can slow their emotional impact and help rebuild the trust employees have lost in the system.
Conversely, formal mental health services were viewed as largely ineffective. Despite their availability in some hospitals, participants often avoided them due to stigma and fear of being seen as weak. As P9 mentioned, “There’s a mental health clinic in the hospital, but no one goes. They’re afraid someone might find out or think they broke down.”.
This reluctance signals a lack of trust in institutional support systems, which are often perceived as symbolic rather than genuinely safe. Consequently, participant resilience was forged not through formal structures but through informal peer networks that served as the true psychological shield against burnout.
Subtheme 3.3: Constructive Escape and Redefining Survival.
When daily coping mechanisms proved insufficient, therapists sought deeper ways to recalibrate their careers. Some described pursuing further education or transitioning to less demanding roles as an act of survival, not abandonment. P11 remarked, “I am completing a study to escape from working with patients,” while another participant expressed a desire to shift to a more regular working hours: “I am thinking of switching to a PFT clinic; it’s more comfortable for me.” (P10).
These decisions were not acts of escape but deliberate strategies to reframe the professional relationship. Participants explained that moving from high-pressure to calmer environments or pursuing further education helped them regain control over their work lives.
However, many acknowledged that leaving was not a feasible option. Financial obligations, family duties, and limited alternatives bound them to their positions. As P5 observed, “Friends in other hospitals complain about similar or even harsher conditions,” suggesting a lateral move would not bring relief. Another participant echoed this constraint: “Financial debt is the reason I stay; I have no other choice” (P2).
Despite this, several participants expressed a moral and emotional commitment that superseded material concerns. P4 reflected, “Despite the financial incentives, I am done with this. The quality of life matters more than money.” P8 added an ethical perspective: “I love my work and feel a responsibility towards the people of my region, but the system consumes us.”.
This paradox illustrates that remaining in the profession is not always an act of surrender. For some, endurance became a form of moral resistance, an implicit act of integrity through which therapists upheld the human value of care, even when institutional systems failed to protect them.
Taken together, these coping strategies illustrate how RTs managed ongoing exposure to burnout risk factors rather than escaping them, reinforcing that individual resilience functioned as a temporary buffer against institutional failure, not a substitute for structural prevention.