When to call it

There are lots of ‘it’ that this could be referring to.

When to call the end of the pandemic.

When to call the sinking ship.

When to call the end of a code.

When to call the search for something that the doctor must, must have and then doesn’t use.

When to call the association with a hospital.

When to call a career.

Too many of the nurses that I know are tired.

Too many of the nurses that I know have come to me and expressed regret with their current working conditions.

Too many of the nurses that I know have come to me and expressed anger at their manager.

Or their manager’s manager.

Too many of the nurses that I know are starting to look for other jobs.

Too many of the nurses that I know have left to go to other jobs.

A good friend of mine told me last week that her manager told her that she was delivering not good care.

And this on a floor.

During a patient boom brought on by the surge.

During a pandemic.

The nurse that has won awards for being a top nurse in the state.

No wonder she is contemplating her future with nursing, with the hospital, with the company.

This makes me so sad.

Nurses who have been there delivering care to the best of our delivery in circumstances that no nurse alive and working have ever seen in the US.

And we have kept people alive.

People who would spit on us.

People who have yelled at us.

People who do not believe in the science of vaccines but are still reaching out for help when they get ill with the same disease that the vaccine is designed to alleviate or prevent.

But, of course, they didn’t take the vaccine.

And now they are sick unto dying.

That is a deliberate reference.

But my fellow nurses and I keep showing up for work.

Keep working through surge after surge.

Keep taking care of people; be they patients, or family, or co-workers, or people on the street.

Because that is what we do.

And we are tired.