Do you ever have a day you simply dread going to work? That's about where I sit right now as I write this. My wife worked last night, and she said it is a complete zoo there. And she was not referring to OB, even though they too are busy.
I do feel a certain amount of joy that I will be needed. And I do feel joy knowing that I will provide a solution to some person's problems tonight, be it a patient or a nurse or both. I do feel joy in knowing that I will be really working tonight and earning my keep, as opposed to those many days recently where I had so much time as to watch several TV shows on the Internet.
However, I dread the idea that I will be beeped every time I sit down to chart, and I dread the idea that when I sit down to chart again I will again be paged, and when I sit down to chart again I will be paged. I know this sounds redundant, but that's exactly how my nights have been lately.
I have already promised myself that no matter how frivolous the reason for paging me is, I will not complain. I will be happy. I will smile. (fingers crossed)
Well, I say that, but we'll have to wait and see. Usually when I get irritated at getting paged for stupid things, like a treatment that is not indicated, or an EKG on a patient that came in because she stubbed her toe, I grumble and gripe to myself if at all, and by the time I get to my destination I never say anything to the nurse.
And, expecially when I enter the patient's room, I know that I left my attitude, if I had one, at the door. I'll have to remind myself about this more than once tonight, as I still am burned out from the weekend from hell. And we had a wee bit trouble sleeping last night after sleeping until 1:00 yesterday. Whoops. I shouldn't have done that.
Oh well. I can say oh well, and I can rest pretty assured that I will stay in a relatively good mood tonight if only for the simple truth that I know I will not have to return to work tomorrow for my regularly scheduled final night before my six day off stretch. I say this because tomorrow I'm taking off so that I can leave for Florida Friday morning. Yippee.
Yet, a part of me still dreads that I have to work one more night. The burned out sensation that runs through my veins and has worked its way to through my muscles to the core of my bones, especially in my feet, wants me to stay far, far away from that place.
Songs like "One More Night," will rail through my head, reminding myself that it will be over soon. But soon, sometimes during hellish nights, seems like a long time while it's happening.
Do you ever dread going to work like that? I'm not talking about hating your job, but just wishing you could take that final day off, like a Friday per se for people who work normal eight hour shifts with no weekends.
Ever? I bet you do.