That's my watch alarm going off at 5:45...what an ungodly hour. There's a little bit of grey in the sky, but it's still mostly dark outside as I drag my sorry ass out of the warmth of my bed and into the coolness of the autumn morning. I slink into for the warmth of the shower and try to suck every last second of freedom out of the warm streams of water. As I turn off the faucet I think to myself: today is going to suck. That's pretty much how every morning goes when I'm on the floors.
It's not that working on the floors is that difficult. I take a walk through the brisk morning air, watching my breath form a cloud infront of my face, grab my cup of black coffee from the cafe, round on my kiddos and make sure that the on call intern and night nurses didn't try to kill them while I slept. Sign-out is at 7. Team rounds are at 9, Heme-onc rounds are at 10, noon conference is at noon. I write my progress notes how the interns like them, and sign out to the intern by 4 after hiding in a conference room for an hour-or-so trying to read up. It's the sheer monotony that wears down on you. The same people, the same patients, the same notes...
How many times did you poop last night?
Ok, I'm going to listen to your heart now.
Deep breath for me.
It gets to be like a yoga routine: calming, precise...boring.
I get into my flow, feel time slowing down around me, feel like I'm one with the living, breathing organism that is the hospital.
I've never liked yoga very much.