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.