It had been a long day. I guess anybody that works twelve hours will say that, especially when it’s really 13-14, but who’s counting, right? Plus it had been a chaotic day, one of those days where the patients without adequate pain medications ordered are suddenly writhing in pain, or the kind of day where your patient gets extubated and reintubated all within the same hour. Yeah, a day like that. It was one of those days where you hug and kiss on the cheek of a grieving wife, and one where the loss you’re surrounded with at work makes you melancholy for family you’ve lost personally throughout the years. Yep, it was a very long, physically and emotionally exhausting day.
For me, though, life exists beyond the bedside. So after a 13 hour day I’ll think of an errand I need to run, and with two baby showers in the next two days a quick run to the store was in the cards for me this particular night. I drove the short distance, thanking the Lord it was short, and tried to focus. The thing was my brain felt fuzzy, kinda foggy, and it took a bit of concentration to pay attention to traffic and compose a shopping list in my head. I honestly felt beat. It seemed like every light cruelly turned red, or that cars in front of me refused to go something even resembling the speed limit. They puttered along oblivious to my exhaustion, and I realized at that moment I’d give a small fortune just to go straight home.
Once I’m in the store I quickly try to grab some ingredients for an easy yet delicious party dip. I backtrack through aisles for things I missed. I stand near the salad dressings looking for soup mix that wasn’t there and I ask myself, what in the world are you thinking?!
Finally I have my merchandise all collected in my basket and I make my way quickly to the checkout. I try not to curse under my breath when no express lanes appear open, and I shuffle resigned towards the long line coming from the one open lane. Here’s where it really starts to unravel.
As the checker asks kindly for my discount card I rattle off an old number not even attached to my current, customer rewards account. I rack my brain for the right number and recite it eventually. But it’s at this point that I realize I forgot a gift card. I look eagerly and desperately for what I need to be nearby.
“What kind of card are you looking for,” she asks kindly.
“A Visa gift card,” I answer quickly, not wanting to hold up the line.
“They’re right there on aisle three,” she offers.
I rush off towards a display of gift cards on the next checkout aisle. I see a plethora of restaurant selections, but that’s it.
In the background I hear, “aisle three.”
I stumble off frantically towards checkout 3, looking up towards each checkout light. 5, 6, 7. I realize I’m headed the wrong way and change directions to make the numbers go down, but I begin to get more frustrated when I realize only Amazon cards reside along the checkout lane marked with an unlit 3.
Behind me a gentleman says kindly (and perhaps a little too slowly), “aisle three, ma’am. She said aisle three.”
I look dumbly towards the numbered grocery aisles and an end-cap of hundreds of gift cards look back at me. I race towards them mumbling to myself, feeling quite stupid, and I scan up and down, up and down, but no Visa gift cards.
Beside me steps the same checker, “here you are. They’re right here.” And she easily finds a display of Visa and MasterCard gift cards to my left.
As I later shambled shamed out of the store I realized that I was basically useless after a twelve hour shift at the critical care bedside. Thankfully, I was abundantly present while there. In fact, it was like I was always on point, ever watchful, and constantly on guard just in case my patient headed south. And maybe that’s why I was like a head full of mush once it was all over. After being at the ready for an entire nursing shift, I required a good unwinding and solid night’s sleep before doing it again. It amazed me to think of the serious issues I managed while at work, yet how I crumbled in the face of a grocery trip afterwards.
I felt almost sorry for my young kids who had to put up with me once I got home. I would throw together a quick supper for myself. Thankfully my husband had already fed the children. And then I would sit useless on the couch until I passed out for bed. They would ask me to play this or that, but other than cuddles I was basically beat. I was grateful I only had to pull three of these shifts a week, for my sake and my family. It was beyond exhausting. It was emptying. It totally drained me.
On this particular night, as I changed into my pajamas, I remembered that I should sign the note to accompany my gift card I had purchased for the baby shower the next day. So I fumbled through the kitchen looking for the card, and it was at that point I realized it was nowhere to be found. My mind went backwards to the checker scanning my gift cards. My other purchases already waited in a grocery cart.
“Do you want to hold these or me put them in a bag?” She had asked.
“In a bag is fine,” I had answered quickly.
And in a bag, at the checkout, they had remained. I couldn’t even be surprised that I had neglected my hard-fought gift cards and left them behind.
We’ll just call it shift brain: the waning remainder of mental capacity following a long, trying, nursing shift.
Cathy C. Cunningham says
Wow did this hit home. I have been a nurse for 47 yrs. Lived thru swing shifts, doubles, double back 16 hrs. Nothing is more gut wrenching literally than the 12 hr. shift. 3 twelves not a problem, think again. Studies have shown that 10 hrs. doing this work, nursing, is at the high end of ??? ability to do this job safely, efficiently, and without errors. Personally, if you are in a relationship, have children, outside interests, this is not the schedule you want. Can you really put a price tag on the physical, mental, and emotional toll this takes over time. Rethink your personal priorities, before you have none. Nothing is worth sacrificing ones life and career for those 4 days off. If you have done them…you know it takes at least 24 hrs to readjust x2. There’s half your 4 days trade off.