Reva got her degree at a non-Jewish college, so she thought she would be somewhat immune to the lack of boundaries and less refined ways of speaking on the job. “But nothing,” she emphasizes, “can really prepare you for being around that day in and day out.”

The lifestyle differences between frum nurses and their colleagues are more than simply that — they’re absolutely defining. “For me, being a dedicated Jew and mother is what drives my self-definition,” explains Tammy. “For them, their job is more important than anything else in the world.”

Since many of their colleagues have little to zero exposure to the Orthodox world, frum nurses are often asked about the basics of Judaism. “My coworkers ask me lots of questions,” says Batsheva, “and I try to answer them in the most factual, simple terms that I can.”

When asked about her scrub skirt or hair covering, Tammy is open and honest. “I much prefer they know from the get-go,” she says, pointing to her sheitel. “I tell them this is a wig from the beginning. That way, it’s not awkward if they somehow end up touching it or commenting on my hair.”

Even if colleagues express genuine admiration or interest in Judaism, Tammy still sets firm boundaries. “I’ll answer basic questions,” she says, “but I’ve realized over the years that I don’t need to answer everything. I can also just say I don’t want to discuss a particular topic.”

Once, a coworker mentioned to Tammy that he was Jewish. “Actually, I’m half Jewish,” he clarified.

“Either you’re Jewish or you’re not,” Tammy said. “There’s no such thing as half.”

“But my mother’s father is Jewish!” he retorted.

Tammy explained that Judaism goes by the mother, which surprised him. “I assured him that we’re still connected, though,” Tammy laughs. “But wouldn’t you know it, a different coworker named Sam was standing nearby when we had this conversation, and he says to me, ‘Wait, so you’re telling me that if my mother’s mother’s mother was Jewish, and it was a line of all Jewish women, I’m Jewish?’”

“Yep, you’re Jewish,” Tammy replied. “Want to come for Shabbat?’”

Standing Out

From speech to dress, female nurses are easily identifiable. “One patient recognized that I was Jewish as soon as I walked into the room,” Tammy shares. “It was a Christian family and the mother immediately started telling me about a dream she had the night before — that a Jewish person came in and said Shema over her child. The parents asked me if I would please do just that. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I told them I’d return in just a moment and left the room. I called my rav, who told me that I could say Shema without Hashem’s name, but that I should ask my coworkers if it’s a good idea to even go there.”

Tammy ran to ask a few coworkers what they thought. “They said professionally it’s not a good idea because if G-d forbid something happens to my patient, the parents may think I did some sort of witchcraft or curse. So I walked back in the room and told my new patient, ‘I absolutely love being an oncology nurse, but I need to put certain guards in place so that I can emotionally handle it. And this is one of those guards.’ They understood right away and didn’t push me.”

As visibly Orthodox Jews, frum nurses know that they’re being watched. “That aspect of my job is very empowering,” Tammy says. “Sometimes other people seem almost more in tune with what we have to offer than we ourselves do.”

In the nurses station, the atmosphere changes when frum nurses are around. “For my coworkers, certain crass language is a given. But around me, they’re careful,” Batsheva says. “And the truth is, I’m proud of that. They know I’m a religious Jew and that I expect a cleaner way of speaking. Sometimes they’ll apologize if they slip and use a word they know I wouldn’t use. I feel that a frum Jew really elevates the space she’s in, and that itself gives me a sense of purpose among my coworkers.”

Even though “inclusivity” is all the rage nowadays, it can still be challenging to maintain boundaries and standards as a frum nurse.

“Overall, the hospitals are much more accepting and open-minded than they used to be,” says Batsheva. “They know that we’re committed to doing our jobs as well as we can, and that if we excuse ourselves for any reason, we’ll make it up to them in so many different ways.”
Reva, for instance, won’t work with patients who opt for pregnancy terminations. “I have flat out refused to work with a patient who is choosing to terminate a pregnancy,” Reva says. “I won’t compromise, and my coworkers know this.”

So far, Batsheva has been able to avoid those cases as well. “They’ll always find someone else to work with those patients,” she says. But she cautions that working in a hospital environment will mean accommodating lifestyle choices that are very far from halachah. “As a frum Jew, this is against everything we stand for,” Batsheva says passionately. “It’s against halachah, and yet here we are. And I know it’s only going to get worse.”

Tammy once lost a job opportunity because she refused to work on Shabbos. “I understand why they did it because they specifically needed a nurse who could work weekends. But honestly, I was excited to lose a job for the sake of Shabbos. I felt privileged to be able to make a sacrifice like so many of our grandparents did.”

Most frum nurses can advocate for shifts that don’t interfere with Shabbos or Yom Tov, but this sometimes leaves colleagues stewing in resentment. “Sometimes they say things like, ‘Everyone wants off for the weekend,” Batsheva says. “They simply can’t understand what Shabbos is to us and that it’s not negotiable.” She does, however, work overtime whenever possible to make up for the shifts she needs to miss, in addition to working on all the non-Jewish holidays.

October 7 revealed another clear divide between the frum and non-Jewish workers. Batsheva was disappointed in her coworkers’ response — or lack thereof — to the current situation in Israel. “We’ve worked together for so many years. They know I’m Jewish and that I have family and connections in Israel. I thought they’d reach out or at least mention it. But not one person said a word to me.”

Reva experienced a similar response. “Only one coworker mentioned anything to me about Israel, but she made sure to do it quietly in a supplies closet,” Reva sighs. “But that’s how it is, and always has been, right? We never will be the same, or in the same boat, as our non-Jewish coworkers. There’s always going to be that natural separation.”

Making a Difference

Nurses interact with patients in all stages of life, from birth to death. Rachel, a geriatric nurse in a New York rehab, describes her role as working closely with doctors to care for the physical and mental health of her elderly patients. “My goal is to improve my patients’ quality of life, whatever it takes,” she says. “My patients are obviously getting older and they need a voice. I can be that voice when they don’t have the wherewithal to stand up for themselves or to find solutions.”

She recalls one elderly patient who was alone for many weeks, without any children or visitors checking on her. “I made sure to visit her every time I was in. I wanted to make sure she had what she needed, even the small things, like an extra pillow or compression socks.” Sometimes simple medication adjustments (after consulting with the patient’s doctor, of course) make all the difference for her patients.

“As a nurse, you need to be skilled in listening and in patience, so that your patients feel comfortable sharing with you,” says Rachel. “I ask how they’re feeling, what they’re worried about. These details help because if you’re not listening, it’s easy to miss a symptom or to catch the deterioration of a condition.”

As an oncology nurse, Tammy’s goal is to minimize suffering. “I want to make their journeys as pleasant as possible in the most unpleasant of circumstances.” She’ll often suggest an alternative pain management plan, or sometimes she’ll push for a patient’s temporary release if she thinks he or she can manage a short time at home in between treatments. “That can make all the difference,” she says.

Tammy sees herself as an advocate for her patients. “I went into nursing because I love people and I love science. And nursing is exactly that,” she says. “I love reviewing the latest scientific research to figure out a way to help. Some nurses once came to me because they were seeing an uptick in Lyme disease and I was able to consult the literature and plan a path forward in treatment — together, of course, with the doctors.”

The common denominator for these women is their commitment to improve the lives of their patients in whatever way they possibly can. “My goal is to provide complete emotional and physical support,” says Batsheva. “I want them to feel like they’re not alone — I am in this with them.”

Batsheva’s devotion to her patients only increases when she’s working with a frum woman. “I feel like I can bring a level of holiness to the delivery experience that they likely wouldn’t have if they had a non-Jewish nurse coaching them through the process. That aspect of my job is part of what keeps me going,” she says.

As Mother and Nurse

Balancing work and motherhood is a challenge in any profession. But in hospitals, shifts tend to be 12 hours, which Tammy has always worked 12-hour night shifts. “These shifts are great for everyone but the mother. By the time I come home from my shift, I am so depleted and worn out from dealing with other people’s kids that I don’t have the energy to deal with my own. But a full 12-hour day shift would mean missing a lot of time with the kids, so night shifts it is for me at this point in my life. When I have a new baby, I return after six weeks, and my husband says he can relate to all the sleep-deprived mothers more than I can. And he’s right,” she laughs.

As a mom of little kids, Reva prefers working night shifts. “I’m able to feed the kids supper, tuck them into bed at night before I leave, and then be back in the morning to take them to school.” She feels that her six straight hours of sleep during the day are better than any sleep she’s gotten with a newborn at home, and she’s not complaining. “It’s a good schedule for anyone with little kids because you’re around when your kids need you, and that’s what’s important.”

These days, the hospital where Reva works is so short-staffed that they’ll take any hours she’s available. “So I don’t have to do 12-hour shifts anymore,” she says. “I just call them up and tell them I’m available for a certain number of hours, and they’re always glad to have me. We have multiple births a night, so I’m always needed.”

Rachel, who works during the day, adds that, “Any job is going to be hard to manage when you have lots of little (or big) kids at home. But as far as working while mothering goes, this seems to work well for our family.”
Challenges in the Field

While the nursing profession is flooded with heartwarming stories and is often viewed in a warm and rosy light, there are no shortages of intense situations to contend with.

“It’s obviously difficult to deliver babies with abnormalities or genetic issues,” Batsheva relates. “Especially when we’re not expecting it, or the parents weren’t warned. There have been quite a few times when a baby was born with an extra finger. It’s something that’s easy to miss on an ultrasound, so it’s often unexpected. I try to stay completely calm and reassure them that often this doesn’t mean anything else is wrong. My goal is to be a steady support for the parents.

“I try to infuse those times with as much faith and courage as I can without being preachy,” Batsheva shares. “If they’re religious, whether Jewish or something else, I can talk more with them about G-d and meeting the challenge with faith and meaning. And if they’re not, I still try to be that source of strength and support.”

The challenges in the oncology department are more obvious. “You start to feel connected to these kids,” Tammy says, “and it’s particularly draining to watch them in pain or struggling in ways you can’t really do anything about.”

A particular obstacle facing nurses today is staff shortages. “I want to be there for each patient and to be as present as possible, but we are so short-staffed,” says Reva. “We can’t possibly be there in the most attentive and effective way if there are four other moms in labor at that moment, with only, for example, two nurses on call that night.”

The nurse-to-patient ratio may continue to drop as more hospital nurses opt for higher pay elsewhere. “A lot of nurses come in, work hard, and as soon as they have enough experience under their belts, they become a traveling nurse,” Reva explains. “The concept of traveling nurses really took off during Covid. They pay big bucks, and anyone without a family or something specific tying them down to their home is going to pursue a job like that.”

Money is at the root of another challenge that nurses face. “Ultimately, a hospital is a business, and money is the bottom line. But for nurses, it just isn’t like that. The patients really are our number one priority, especially in the pediatric world. So it’s particularly difficult when we can’t find a treatment or pain management that works within the insurance or hospital parameters,” says Tammy.

In generations past, the doctor-nurse relationship was acutely hierarchical. But Reva says that whenever she works with residents today, she feels they’re eager, respectful, and interested in hearing about her experiences and approaches. “They don’t seem at all egotistical,” she says. “They just really overall want to be the best they can possibly be at their jobs.”

Tammy echoes the same sentiment of feeling respected and appreciated by doctors, but she’s also had her share of negative interactions. “One time, I advised a patient to ask the doctor for a specific medication, but received pushback when the doctor was asked,” Tammy relates. “He told me he didn’t appreciate me mentioning the idea to the patient, which I understood. But when he said he didn’t believe a specific medication would do any good, and that it wasn’t my place as a nurse to suggest this, I did push back. While I tried to maintain a respectful tone, I pressed him to read the research I provided. I pointed out that although the medication’s use was primarily for a different condition, I really believed the side effects could help my patient’s particular discomfort. After much uncomfortable back and forth, the doctor agreed to try it.” Tammy was satisfied when she saw the medication making a difference, but she was careful to walk the balance of respect and humble confidence so that the doctor wouldn’t resent her.

Rachel sometimes feels the need to be pushy with the doctors she works alongside. “Sometimes they’re rushing, or eager to move on to the next patient or to go home. I try to make sure to slow them down and get clear instructions and directives. But generally, they are dedicated, and sincerely appreciate what I do for patients. We doctors and nurses make a good team,” she says.

Shaping Character, Shaping Lives

The dedication of nurses to their work is symptomatic of the love they hold for all human beings, Jews and non-Jews alike. “The same integrity that guides our spiritual lives and halachic decisions really directs our patient interactions and our relationships with our coworkers,” Tammy shares. “When you’re dealing so closely with life and death on such a constant basis, it really starts to affect your every day.”

Reva echoes the sentiment. “Watching life coming into the world again and again and being a part of that experience is inevitably going to define you. I used to cry at every single delivery. I just couldn’t get over how miraculous it was, and the emotion in the room was so intense. I still find it amazing and incredible to be a part of.”

Working in geriatrics, Rachel has an acute awareness of how short our time on this earth is. “You just feel it,” she sighs. “You become more aware of how things change as we get older and how much we have to be grateful for.

“There’s so much to learn from my patients,” she adds. “Some of them have amazing stories. You never know where they’ve been or what they’ve experienced. And the more closely you work with them, the more you learn about their characters.” Some of her patients are Holocaust survivors who rebuilt their lives completely after the war. “Sometimes they have large families coming to visit and check on them. It’s inspiring to see what they created for themselves after so much suffering.”

It’s the kindness and the giving, the dedication and the investment, that shapes these women’s lives and hearts, and propels them to keep making a difference. “Knowing that I can improve the lives of my patients in even a small way is what keeps me going,” Tammy says. “When all is said and done, it’s worth it just for that.”

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 902)