2AM

This is my Saturday night.

It's 3AM. I'm 20 hours into my 24 hour call. I've been up for 22 hours straight already. It's been a "slow day" on the floor - only 10 discharges and 5 admissions. I just finished another bogus admission due to the ER refusing to discharge anyone because "if something bad happens when they leave, we're liable". I'm tired, but I need to check labs. I call the attending to run a few numbers and we decide to order more labs in the morning.

On my way out to write the orders, my pager goes off. This time it's not the ER, it's the code pager. Rapid response on the other side. I run to the room only to find that the patient is a surgery patient whose mom called a rapid response due to poor pain control. The mom is angry. She yells she wants to leave. No one is helping her child's pain. All I can do is make sure the patient is stable while surgery makes med recommendations. Over the phone. Without laying eyes on the patient.

In the middle of the rapid response, the other floor calls me. I need to talk to one of the nurses. I go to the other side. A mom is angry there too. She is angry we haven't diagnosed her child yet. She wants to go to another hospital. She doesn't like the answers I have given her, so she ignores my efforts and berates me. I'm usually calm, but I feel my anger rising. I explain that her expectations are unrealistic. She doesn't like it. I tell her I hope she gets to go somewhere else if that's what she wants. I know she won't. I leave the room angry, frustrated, and hurt.

I could be home. With a daughter who misses me and a husband who loves me. But I'm not. I tell myself I can help. I can make a difference. It's worth it. But, right now, I'm not so sure.