When my hands ache from four central lines and an arterial line, and I laugh inappropriately at the MRSA swab on the brain dead 20-year old overdose admission because I'm too tired to care about hiding my derision...
When my boss tells me to go upstairs and talk to the overdose girl's family and it's just me and two parents who have lost a daughter and the nurse...
When it gets to be one in the morning and I haven't even started my documentation for the three afternoon transfers...
When these shifts come along, they make us doctors.
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