72 hours of delirium...

When I share stories about my job as a night nurse, I often have people exclaim,"I could never do your job". And they're right. If God did not specifically call you into this profession, there would be no way to endure the demands of nursing. I know I couldn't. There isn't enough money in President Obama's stimulus packages to entice me to do my job with any dignity. Luckily for my patients, I don't work to serve President Obama or any other man. It is God's love alone that flows through to those people in the beds.

In my short career as a nurse I have been stalked, bit, slapped, and spat at. We had a patient on our floor recently who would harbor his own fecal matter and then fling it at any medical personnel that came in the room. Outside of his door there was a cart filled with plastic gowns, gloves, masks and face shields. Anyone entering the room had to gear up as if they were hunting for chemical warfare. This is not your regular clientele.

I read a study during nursing school that said when a nurse gets off from her third night shift in a row, her mental status is that of someone inebriated. At first I scoffed when I read that, but after falling asleep at red lights on the way home, I completely agree. Some of the girls were comparing exhaustion stories one night at work: going to bed without showering, going to bed with blood on their scrubs, not letting the dog out before bed knowing full well the mess they'd face when they woke up, sleeping through their wedding anniversaries... Little comes between the bed and a night shift nurse leaving their third shift. But one story surfaced that just had to be shared.

My friend Amanda is one of the most calm and rational people I know. Very little gets her "riled up", in fact, I have never seen her get upset over a patient in all the time we've worked together. And she had the poop patient. But one morning, as she was leaving her third night, she walked out to the parking garage and discovered a man sleeping in the back seat of her car. Now, under normal circumstances, a twenty five year old female finding a strange man that has broken into her car and is sleeping in the back seat would probably be scared or call for help.

And Amanda usually would. But as she said, "I don't know what came over me. I was just so tired and delirious that when I saw him in my car, standing in the way of me getting to go home, I just got very, very angry. So I walked up to the car and hit the window really hard to wake him up. When he woke up and looked at me startled, I screamed, 'get the fuck out of my car!' The guy got scared and I kept yelling at him to get out of my car and he got out and ran away and I chased him a bit. On the drive home, it occurred to me how stupidly dangerous that was. I felt like an animal out of control."

And this, ladies and gentleman, is one of the fine health care professionals tending to your loved ones. In a state of pure delirium...