Life After Tissues, Sudafed, and My Weekend at Work
This Phoenix and I have something in common. We both have risen from the ashes and have been reborn, or in my case, I have come back to life after my bout with a brutal cold. It was really hard going into work this weekend. I couldn’t call in sick because I had a pulse, I was somewhat able to breath, and because I’ll loose my job if I miss too many weekend shifts. I’m only allowed to miss six shifts per year, including time off for vacations. The only time a nurse is allowed to call in sick at Hospital X is if they are dead, but only if their next of kin can bring a copy of their death certificate to the nursing office. The nurse I was working with was also sick, so the patients were hesitant to approach the nurses station. They didn’t want to get sick, too. One lady asked if she could make us some tea. Another patient brought my colleague a blanket to curl up in when she spiked a fever and started chilling behind the desk. One of the unit troublemakers didn’t make waves because he felt sorry for us. Finally, a patient stated the obvious when he said it’s a shame that the hospital doesn’t care about its nursing staff enough to let us stay home when we are sick. And people wonder why there is a nursing shortage.
I want to thank everyone for their get-well wishes and for their kind thoughts and comments.