Saturday, April 14, 2012

egg vomit and corn poop

I'm fairly certain that Jesus did not say the "F" word. However, I, in all my sinful glory, did at work today. On my way to lunch. Frustrated by not being able to meet the demands of six ill patients. Angry because they needed more than I could disperse between so many of them.

I need a pain pill. I am cold. I need fresh water. My IV is beeping. Could you call my doctor?

I can't do it all. I can't do it all as fast as they want it done. No, I can't give you your test results, because I'm not a doctor. No, I can't consult another physician, because I'm not a doctor. No, I can't give you a pain pill at the same time his IV is beeping while talking to her doctor with one phone on one ear and my charge nurse on the other. I can't do it all.

I have been trying very hard to not complain at work. But, can I be honest and just say that I am so tired? Tired of failing miserably at an attempt to please the sick customer. I was not made for this. Not made for being a nurse.

I don't like the blue scrubs everyday, or the hair in a ponytail, or the long hours. I hate the cafeteria food because it makes me fatter. I hate waking up at 5:15 AM. I hate military time. I hate medical jargon. I hate being a nurse. I hate that it all makes me say the "F" word. I hate that I have no compassion anymore. I hate that I'm expected to clean up egg vomit, corn poop, and metallic smelling blood without gagging.

I loathe even more than I'm paying some dumb lender $30,000 (+) in order to even do it.

What in all the world was I thinking? What in all of creation was HE thinking?


eff

What am I made for?

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