Love Hate Relationship

The buzzing of my phone reminds me it's time to wake up. Except i've been awake for the past 20 hours.

A part of me groans at having to return for another 10 hour shift after having just left the goddamn hospital barely 8 hours ago.

My body, rife with snot, phlegm and an encroaching sore throat tells me that it's finally bedtime at 11am, having been on nights and late shifts ending at ungodly hours for the last 5 days.

The brain is in semi agreement, yet still whirring away, sustained on adrenaline.

The eyes must not close or i'll be toast.

My body clock is spinning around the different sleep patterns required to keep me awake during those ever cycling shifts. I hate that my life is now split between work vs non work.

Then again when has it ever not been?

Ever since i stepped out of my graduation robes and into a salaried position in the hospital it has always been that way. No, it was that way even in medical school. A good one third of my life is caught up in medicine. 8 f***ing years of it.

As much as i entertain hopes of leaving the field altogether, i realise the irony that it has very much become part of my identity. So deeply entrenched that i would be drifting in limbo if bereft of my occupation.

What else could i be possibly good at? The self doubts chew at the dichotomous nature of my ambivalent feelings.

I love the kids, i love the lumbar punctures, the suprapubic aspirates, the suturing, the pleural taps, all things procedural. Yet my loathing for all the surrounding bullshit drives me insane.

I am afraid.

Thinking is too dangerous. Time for a caffeine hit before i crash to the floor of the emergency department in a catatonic sleep.