Night Shift

I worked my first night shift the other night.  It took all my persuasive power to allow the Hospital administrator to let me do it.  She was concerned letting me stay out all night might cause me to get malaria.  I think I was spared from that plague by my prophylaxis.  It was an interesting experience.  For all of you that complain about grumpy nurses, try working a night shift.  It sucks and by the end you are… well, grumpy.  However, as the sun rose and I transferred accountability to the day nurse I had a distinct feeling that I may one day be a proficient nurse.  As my graduation day approaches there has been an increasing fear in me that I will not be ready to be a true full-fledged nurse.  Given that there was only one other nurse on  night shift  was given a certain degree of autonomy, a rarity in Tanzanian hospitals where all medical administrations must include at least a crowd of three other nurses for emotional support.  Since there was only one other nurse and she wasn’t all that keen to leave her chair, I was allowed to manage much of the patient care.  It was amazing to find that I was able to not only decipher the crazy Tanzanian documentation system but I was able to administer medications unaided, on time and safely.  No one died and a few people even seemed a little healthier at the end of my shift.  As I sank into an exhausted midday snooze I had a deep feeling of satisfaction, and proficiency.  For what it was worth, it didn’t last that long.  I still have feelings of inadequacy and probably one of the greatest fears of mine is that I will not be ready for the world of nursing by the time I graduate.  Still it’s nice to know that I might have the potential.