I swallowed my pride.

I feel like a hundred million pounds have been lifted off me. That's a lotta pounds, let me tell you. After my day/night from hell the other day I had a 24 hour shift to work through. Not surprisingly, I didn't sleep all that well on hell night. 5am came way too early yesterday. But, I tried to have an optimistic view on things. I tried to "make" myself have a good day at work. Ha, but that's like trying to "make" yourself love someone you despise.

Prior to a year ago I loved coming to work. Absolutely loved it. It was almost a stress reliever. I had great partners. It didn't matter how busy it was--I loved coming to work. At times I couldn't believe I got paid (sometimes even time and a half) to do it. Lately, they can't pay me enough to be there. Now, before every shift when I pull in the parking lot, I turn off my car, look straight ahead, then down at the clock, then say out loud, "you can still call out sick." How sad. I went from "I can't believe they pay me to do this" to "you can still call out sick."

Ask anyone I work with--I'm a shit magnet. For a good two to three years, if there was a bad or twisted, messed up call, I was probably on it. It was called my "black cloud." It was to the point that after Chuck retired and he saw something bad on the news he'd call me and say, "I saw an accident on the news and there was a black cloud in the sky...." and 90% of the time I was on the call. Lots of people say, "that's your job" which is true to an extent. We're trained and paid to see things no one else wants to see or deal with. But everyone gets "their call." The one that sticks in your head and doesn't go away. Or there's the series of similar calls that finally get the best of you. It got to the point that people thought it was funny. If there was a bad call that went out somewhere in the county, people would say "is Sarah working there today?"

It started six months into my career when I ran a police officer that was shot and killed. He was still alive when we got on the scene, which by the way, was very unsafe. On anything like a shooting, stabbing, domestic, anything unsafe, we typically wait til the scene is secured by police to ensure our safety. This time we didn't. My partner and I were friends with the police in that district and we made the decision we were going in to help him before the scene was safe. Dumb move if you ask me now, but at the time it seemed to make sense. I'd hope they'd do the same for me if I was in some shitty situation. I can honestly say I've never even seen a gun up close before let alone have one pointed at me. Actually make that about 10 of them with super-stressed police fingers on the other side of the trigger. Anytime we were outside of our unit we had police escort us with guns drawn -- at that point no one really knew who the shooter was. It ended up that not only did we treat the officer, who later in the shift we found out died, we treated the man who ended up being convicted and jailed for killing him.

Christy and I ran a beautiful little two or three year old girl who was on the verge of coding on us (about to stop breathing/heart stop). It was suspected that she was sexually abused and she had raging infections throughout her body. Her parents acted like there was nothing wrong with her and if I remember correctly, mom didn't even come to the hospital and dad tried to leave the hospital while they were working on her. There's another girl I worked with that every time we worked together we had a kid die. That same partner and I worked together on Christmas Eve together a few years back. I was working OT from 7p-7a prior to my 24 hour shift on Christmas day. In that 36 hours, I had 5 people die. A 21 month old girl, a 50 something year old nurse, and a 19 year old guy all on Xmas Eve and then two elderly people on Xmas Day. That's when I started to "need a break." My trend continued with a major multi-car accident on a major highway. That's one of those calls you get to and you have no idea where to even start. Two people died in that and I think we had a total of 15 patients.

I requested a shift change so Brian and I could be on the same shift. At the same time I asked for a break from a busy unit. They assigned me to a slower unit for a month. That was the worse month ever. The guy I worked with said he'll never work with me again because of the calls we had....really messed up car accidents where you're trying to get someone out of a car for over an hour only to know when the pressure is moved off them they're going to die right in front of you. Or the little year old girl that died after her family member was all cracked out and drunk, drove on the wrong side of the road and hit another car head on. Not only that, four other people were critically injured.

We were talking at work yesterday, most of the time its not the "stuff" we see. You have to understand we kinda have issues to do what we do to begin with. Blood, poop, guts, brains, insides...that doesn't gross me out. Dentures, feet, yucky skin does. A bad call isn't usually what you see (although sometimes it is). It's usually what you hear. What patients tell you. It sucks to be the last person someone talks to before they die. To have them look you in the eyes and say "I'm going to die" or "tell my kids I love them and be good." Its the day care provider who's psychotic because the baby she took perfect care of just died for no reason. The kid who looks at you like "can't you do something more to help me?" when in reality they're thinking they want their mommy. The guy that killed his family member but doesn't even question their condition because they're more concerned about themselves or running away from the police. Sometimes its not even about a patient. Once my partner and I had to treat their family member. It started off as a non-serious call but quickly deteriorated. Its hard to walk that fine line of treating a patient and being family. Its even harder to sit there and not be able to make your partner feel better. There's only so many times you can say "I'm sorry" or "are you okay?" or "do you need anything?"

After all of that, I asked for a break. I needed to get away. Not time off, but just to go to a station where the odds were lower that I'd run these calls. Instead I was sent somewhere busy to train someone. And then train another after the first finished. I have no patience. I hated coming to work. I brought all that anxiety and frustration home with me. I resented Brian because he liked his position as a supervisor at work. (We work together if I never mentioned that before. He's a Lt.) I was mad that I switched shifts "for Brian"to one who didn't "take care" of their own as much as the one I left. There were more empty promises on this shift. Then, not only that, I had to work in an area that I didn't ideally like. Our county is broken up in two sections, the north and south side. I was assigned to the busiest unit with Christy on the south side of the county. When I became friends with Brian he refused to even work OT on the south side. I loved it there. I always said I could work the remainder of my career there. Well, when I changed shifts, Brian became the south side Lt. That meant he couldn't be me supervisor since we were dating. That meant I had to go north. I again was resentful that not only did he love his position, but he got to work where I wanted to work. I felt like I had a lot of sticks and all the ends were shitty.

Then there was a partner issue. Its one thing to run shitty calls with someone you trust with your life. My former partners Chuck, Christy and Mike are some of my closest friends. I'm not ashamed to let them see me cry or know how I'm feeling, and trust me I rarely held back. Christy and Mike knew not to talk to me when I was tired. Both would pull over when they knew I needed a bolus of Diet Pepsi (fountain, no ice, please.) If we had a bad call after midnight when I was partners for Chuck we met the police at Dunkin' Donuts (its the only place open, I swear) and had milk--chocolate for Chuck, strawberry for me. Work was tolerable. It wasn't until the last year or so that I realized how important it is to have a good partner when working in an environment like I do. I need to have that trust that someone will have my back and fight for me if something bad is about to happen or if we're about to run the shittiest call out there. I'm sure its the same way with any job where you co-work with someone....but having someone that you mesh well with makes the job 10x easier and more enjoyable. Over the last year, I had none of that. I barely trusted people with patients let alone think that someone would watch out for me. We didn't have any "thing" like milk after midnight or whatever. There was nothing to make a bad call "better." Quite honestly I let people get to me and make me feel like I was bad at my job or had a bad attitude (after 11pm I do, but that's usually sleep deprivation and a need for Diet Pepsi--fountain, no ice.)

Finally, yesterday, I had it. I decided to look out for myself and I officially asked for a transfer. And I got it. I kinda had to swallow my pride, because I really never thought I wanted to be assigned where I'm going because its stereotypically the "lazy" place to work but I think I need it. If I want to get back to enjoying my job, I have to do it. If I want to have a good relationship with Brian I have to accept that I pray that I get a good partner again somewhere down the road. But just in case I don't, I'm using it as motivation to study for the Lt. promotional exam. I don't really know if I want to be an officer but more so I don't want to look back and wonder "could I be an officer now?" Even if I fail the exam, at least I can't question it.

And hopefully, my black cloud will float over someone else's head. Actually after rereading all this, I think I want to rent or read Bringing out the Dead. I saw it years ago but it meant nothing to me. It was just a movie. I think it will have a whole new meaning.

I'm still doing well on my WW. My motivation seems to be working. I have barely been snacking. I ran the other day and find I almost like to do it. It kinda scares me. :) Hopefully the WI next week will be successful. And hopefully with my new work change, my stress eating will go down significantly.

Oh, bedroom update: I love it. Love, love, love it. The curtains are hung and look good. I still need to accessorize, but at least I have something to work with. Ironically, we are getting rid of everything that we originally started off with, but that's okay. We really like how the room is coming together. Brian said he'll put the flooring in next week. I can't wait til its all done! :)