Working makes me endlessly angry. I've even been to see the Employee Assistance about it, but all she could offer was to realign my chakras. That would be nice in a general sense, but it doesn't reduce the irritation inherent in having to give first doses of antibiotics, an arbitrary rule that doesn't exist even in other hospitals in Ireland, or having to give vitamin K and cyclimorph IV because the nurses can't, or OH, take bloods and put in lines because the nurses can't. (Actually, they can - they can take IV courses but even when they're qualified they don't bother to offer.) Stupid little things that are, in fact, the ones that kept me up till 1am and got me up again at 3:30am, 5am and 7am. And that was a GOOD night.
The resistance to change, though, is blood-boiling. Nurses have never given IV this that or the other! Why would they start now? Anaphylaxis is more likely to occur on the second dose of antibiotics - and doctors leave the ward right after giving the first dose - so the first dose rule is nonsensical. BUT YOU HAVE TO GIVE IT. WHY? BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO.
And that's just nurses. Doctors are worse. 'I worked till 7pm post-call all my life, why should you get to go home at 9am? I don't care that it's law under the European Working Time Directive. I don't care that we are flagrantly contravening a law set up to give doctors a little bit of a life and enhance clinical safety. I DID IT SO YOU WILL TOO.'
I am on call from 2pm tomorrow. I will probably get 2-3 hours sleep IF I'm very lucky. I will be required to work until at least 5pm Monday. I don't want to do this any more. I'm so TIRED. I've given up wearing makeup. I've given up wearing jewellery. I've given up any interest in what I wear or in putting together nice outfits. All of these things might take five minutes each in the morning and that's fifteen minutes I could be asleep.
The worst thing? The fact that other people working in the hospital are so blithely unaware of what we're subjected to. "Oh, I had to work three 12 hour shifts in a row!" OH POOR YOU! When I'm on call weekends, I'm in the hospital 12 DAYS STRAIGHT. My on-call shifts are THIRTY HOURS LONG. So don't yawn in my face and tell me YOU'RE tired. You don't know the meaning of the word.
(I can't think about having to do this for eight more months. I can't think about doing it for the rest of my life.)