I guess I had built June 1st up in my head a little too much, because at 2 am my body decided to get a head start on the day. Apparently the one hour of sleep I had gotten after I'd finally been able to drift off was enough, because I woke up to a just bubbling under the surface anxiety attack that kept me up for the rest of the night. I'd like to report that it minded its manners and stayed under the surface, but unfortunately I can't.
Then it was off to a truly bizarre day at work. Bizarre, unfortunately, in a sad and unbelievable way rather than funny and wacko. I had one patient twice. Came in, got treated, got sent home, came back in, got admitted, and, as my shift was ending, got an emergency transfer to the big city specialty hospital. I was so stunned to see the transfer team come through with my patient on the gurney that I ran after them into the ambulance bay and cried, "What happened?"
They told me. I'll be up all night worrying about this one. And it's a kid, for god's sake. A little kid. With a couple of stupid, screwy connections to us in a really weird way that just creeps me out.
Probably just as well I'll be up all night, because the on-call shift I signed up for tomorrow is already a given, which means that as I'm writing this right after work, I'll be back in there in seven and a half hours. And I'm wide awake and wired. At least it's a really short shift.
I'm sorry. I've bitched enough. I'm done now.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Posted by the rotten correspondent at 12:02 AM