I feel like every time I’m talking about work I’m complaining about it. It’s been a while since I’ve worked a shift after fitting in my required shifts into the beginning of last month. Something came up where there was an opportunity for me to take an every other weekend evening position on Spring. At first I thought, “No”. I didn’t do evenings anymore, it was too late for me, etc. But then I said, “Let me think about it…”

Yesterday was the first night. It was also the first full evening shift I’ve done there since I started. I wish I could say it was calm and peaceful but it wasn’t. What I desire and envision in calm and peaceful is arriving and receiving report where the day has been uneventful and residents are healthy and stable. You pass your meds around suppertime, taking your time because there’s no need to rush. You’re relaxed.

Then there’s a a slight break where you can sit down at the desk and maybe write a few notes. You take a leisurely stroll down the hall to leave the floor for a moment and use the bathroom and come right back. Before you know it residents are getting ready for bed and it’s time for the bedtime meds. This is usually the time where if someone needs a cream or a power you put that on them too. You click off all of your tasks as done.

And the you have the rest of the evening, typically around two hours, to finish any charting and tidy and restock the med cart. Throughout the shift you answer call lights and refill people’s water or search their drawer for a pen or a book or something simple. What complicates it is when you hear some shouting help and walk into find a very dear and frail old woman flat on her face on the floor in front of her wheelchair.

Or when someone is feeling “funny all over” with slurred speech and the daughter coming in to see more about what is going on. One was during the supper meds and the other right as I had gotten started with the bedtime ones. When these things happen then passing meds and answering call lights seem like the most inconvenient and non-pressing things and you have to get it done with the extra care and charting.

She was sent to the ER. I again give thanks to God for the weekend supervisor who was there again saving my tail. I keep waiting for this to get easier. I keep holding out in the barrage of stress and atypical and tedious situations hoping sometime just to have a boring night. They tell me it happens. So that was my hope in taking this shift, that this would give me some kind of predictability. It would give me more routine and peace.

Peaceful routines and predictability. More and more these are the things I value and want in my life. If this doesn’t end up working out then that’s fine. I would like it to work out without it having to put any more stress on my body or upheaval in my mind. I like people and enjoy them, but their problems can sometimes overwhelm me. As I recently said to someone, “I am trying not to die young,” though the Lord has managed that.