Weekend from hell (and I see there’s plenty of misery to go around), a flood of angry patients, traumas, codes, a couple of bilary colics after that football thing, sick calls, running the department (literally) with a single bed and a gerichair back in Fast Track, management complacency and indifference because we cope (we always cope), nurses in tears, nurses having wee meltdowns and having cat fights with each other, no cardiac monitored beds, dreading a Code STEMI and having to make the decision which sick monitored patient will have to go to the hallway in front of the main nurses station, so I can give them half-assed care probably marginal to the Standards of Practice, all the while putting out fires in remote parts of the department, physicians bitching at me because they have no place to see patients, all the floors hostile and over census, so a simple request becomes a horrific wrangle needing the manager-on-call to intervene, internists being dicks, and surgeons more so, EMS on offload delay for endless hours on end, and whiteshirt supervisors standing at the Charge Nurse desk demanding I release their ambulances, ICU refusing vents again, and —
— and I’m tired.
Exhausted. Barely coherent. My brain feels like it was fried in motor oil and fed to a bear.
A drop of sherry, I think, and then to bed.