I can't pinpoint what the exact cause of these nights pushing me to the edge were, other than them being shit shows (literally and figuratively). It does make me question my choice in careers, as it was never in my desire to deal with this much excrement, vomit, etc. I would almost prefer a blood bath to having all of the outs coming out constantly from a majority of my patients. Oh, and just about every kennel in the ICU was full. That may have been part of it. I don't remember just how many, so let's say about 14 patients. No cats though, which is a bit strange.
So things tend to run in themes (if you get one cat in kidney failure, usually you get three more), but when the theme night is diarrhea it is way more than a human can handle. Luckily we had plenty of people to step up and help out, though getting everything done in a timely manner was nowhere to be seen. I clocked out to go home two hours after the end of my shift, and I got home at about 3am.
Needless to say, today is a recovery day for me. The past three days have been me barely trying to sleep in, being as cheerful with the kids as possible (getting Morgan off to school then hoping I can sneak back into bed before Hank wakes up) getting as much done around the house as possible (laundry as much as humanly possible) then rushing to get ready and run out the door. Coffee at least twice in the AM, scrounging up some hopefully good food to eat, throwing on some scrubs, and attempting to look like a decent human.
Luckily I have the rest of the week off from this point, though who the fuck knows when I'm working after Saturday because there STILL isn't a schedule out. So much for planning a life one week to the next.
Time for a dance party and a couple of tasty adult beverages.