Running on fumes and muscle memory

Twelve hours. Times three. In a row. My feet are screaming, my brain feels like it’s been put through a blender, and I’m pretty sure I forgot to eat actual food today until Jake reminded me twenty minutes ago.

Running on fumes and muscle memory

The thing about back-to-back shifts is that by day three, you’re not really thinking anymore. You’re just moving on autopilot, muscle memory carrying you through medication rounds and patient assessments while your consciousness floats somewhere above your body watching it all happen. Had a moment around hour ten today where I genuinely couldn’t remember if I’d already checked on Mrs. Patterson or if that was yesterday. Terrifying and oddly zen at the same time.

Jake left Thai food on the counter with a note that just said “eat this.” God bless that man.

Dinner is whatever’s in this takeout container

I’m going to inhale whatever’s in this container, take the world’s longest shower, and sleep for approximately fourteen hours. Tomorrow’s my day off and I plan to spend it horizontal.