Working my new job in the ER for the past 10 months has been taxing but very satisfying, too. There is a mild panic that sets in every time I punch in to work, and I have no real choice but to embrace my oncoming panic and do what I can to hide it deep down. I work in a city where we see just about everything you can imagine, and the more that I learn and become qualified to perform, the more people depend on my decisions. I have a hard time figuring out if I brushed my teeth in the morning, and yet I attend a job where I literally (help) make life improving/altering choices.
I know that I like my job. I love it when I can help someone become well enough that they don’t have to spend any more time in the hospital. I hate being attacked by patients. I hate having to explain to an angry person why they have failing health. And although I dread the arrival of “level 1 trauma” patients, I have learned to internalize it all. I am not sure if that is a good thing. I am not sure I am cut out for Emergency medicine. But I know that I am getting better at being a nurse. I just hope its enough.