July 18th, 2005

Altar cross

Last night I said I hated this month.

I hate this month. I'll lay it right there, O Best Beloved, I hate this month. I hate Q3 call where I'm in-house for 24 hours and most of the time spending 22 of those 24 hours running. I hate the uncertainty and I hate the fear that comes with being tired and unsure. I have the nicest doctor in the whole world for a proctor today, and I hope that I will prove to him that I am not incompetent. Perhaps that will take away some of the fatigue.

It wears on you, Q3 does. It eats slowly away at your reserves, and no matter how much sleep you get it isn't enough and yet it's too much; the days are gone and glittering away before they begin. This is Monday. It will be nothing, sleep, no more. Tuesday will be in clinic. Wednesday will be spent here. Thursday will disappear into the ether. Friday is my day off. Saturday here, Sunday gone, Monday clinic, Tuesday here, Wednesday as soon as I leave I'm going to Kansas City. And that's it. At least next month will be easier.

Two vag deliveries, one circ, and an adrenaline rush when we realized just how preeclamptic the patient I was admitting really was. I need to sleep now, or I would tell you about it. My reserves are running low.
  • Current Mood
    exhausted exhausted