Due to my recent cheekiness, I'm aware that you felt the need to give me a comeuppance. I fully deserved this because after 27 years in my profession, I should know better than to mention QUIET nights and how good I've had it for days on end.
I particularly enjoyed the 10 minute verbal harangue by Dr. Rottenbastard last night. Now he was a special treat, and I have to say, I've not been screamed at by a doctor in years. Most of those old school docs, the ones who like to verbally abuse nurses, are long gone--replaced by a breed of docs, who, for the most part, are cordial and treat us in a collaborative manner. Not Dr. R. According to him, and I shityounot, he's going to have my license for peddling drugs. I prefer to think of what I was doing as my job: Patient advocate.
The night went downhill from there and this morning is no better. Every single time I drive to the outskirts of the metropolitan Detroit area--way out--I question why I felt I needed to buy a home in such a busy area. I could be living in the country where the only sounds one hears in the morning are made by the wildlife.
The wildlife here is drowned out by annoying car alarms, trucks, saws, jackhammers, those irritating backup signals on big trucks and the cacophony of workers who are digging up the driveway across the street, or hammering on the house rehab next door.
Not only am I a nurse on the edge now, I'm a sleep deprived and cranky one.
Universe? This picture is for you.