Merry Christmas!

You know it's a bad day when you go to work and you don't get off of your shift until the next day.

Funny thing about work lately, I keep thinking superlatives like, "That was the worst day ever!" only to say the same thing a few days later.

I had a run of bad nights--two in a row. This latest I was hounded the entire goddamn shift by a surgical resident who seemed to fit the mold of the proverbial, "God knows everything; surgical residents know it a little better."

It wasn't pretty, and I was at work until 3 a.m. this morning documenting his behavior, in hopes that maybe, some day, some how, nurses will finally get the respect and professionalism due them from other staff members, because GODDAMIT, we're not there to be bent over a barrel and used when housestaff perceives something isn't going their way. And just for the record, we work really, really fucking hard and put up with more shit than most people see in a typical office job in months. Because I care about what happens to my patients, and I want to see them get better, and isn't that what we all got into health care for in the first place?

Our jobs are seen as petty, dispensable, our intellects and assessment skills are ignored and belittled, and tonight, for the first time ever, I actually thought about quitting, and doing something that might preserve and bolster my self respect by comparison, like being a crazy bag lady or that person that pretends to make a living by collecting empty bottles and cans and recycling them for the deposit return fee.

Merry Christmas, any way, since it's Christmas Eve now, and I was supposed to be home yesterday at 11:30p.m. Maybe Bad Santa will heed my wish list: I need liquor. Lots and lots of liquor. And I need it NOW.