I'm one of the glorious casualties of the "downturn of the economy". Apparently people are not having elective medical tests done, and are just sucking up their sleep disorders and not getting sleep studies. So I've been laid off.
I did, however, have an inkling my job was on the line soon enough to apply to a few jobs before I got sacked. I'm looking forward to what's in store. Mostly.
Two years ago, round this time, I really hated my job (see Sing it, Johnny, The Camel's back..., and ...you utterly suck). What a difference two years makes. I love my job (see many more recent posts). I really love my job even when I really don't want to like my job.
I have a really awful work schedule this month, and it makes me a rather crabby. I'm working every weekend, I have two stretches of work days where I work 4 out of 5 days, and I'm working 20 miles away from home, where I could be working less than two, had I been scheduled to work at the Greenfield site. I can't see the rhyme or reason for scheduling me this way.
So I'm at work. It's Monday. I worked Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. I'm unhappy to be here. One of my patients is talkative to excess. She's nice, but just doesn't stop talking. I'm grumpy. I don't let it show. I don't take my moods out onmy patients, but for a moment, I'm irritated that she doesn't stop talking, and I'm at work for the 4th time our of 5 days in a row.
Just before I leave my talkative patient's room she says, "You're a really nice and sweet person. I wish you had been my tech the last time I was here, because you made me feel at ease." She continues to gush about what a nice person I am, and how well I've been caring for her for a good minute. I am flabbergasted. I thank her, I smile, I thank her again, I tell her I'm happy to that I'm a help to her. I feel the letters A-S-S burn across my forehead.
It gets better. Or worse. My patient wakes up with muscle spasms. I help her to the bathroom. When she's back in bed, she reaches out her hand to me. I hold it. She grasps my hand tightly. "Thank you." She says, "You're a wonderful person." More praise ensues. Again, I tell her that I'm happy to help. Because I am.
I still wish I were at home, in bed, asleep, snuggling my love, and whichever smallish person who sneaks into our bed needing snuggles. But I am happy to be here, helping a stranger sleep better, treating her with about all the patience I hold at the moment. Still, it would be nice if time sped up a bit right now.
I had a hard time sleeping after last night's shift, and found myself still awake at 10 am. This will not bode well for tonight. I hope my patients need lots of bathroom breaks so I don't zone out or worse, fall asleep. Rachel Ray had a cool segment on sleep studies. I'm seeing more and more mainstream media on sleep disorders. 70% of Americans report being tired all the time, or something like that. I'll save my sermon on sleep and health for another time, but there's a link between obesity and poor sleep. Lose weight, eat better, you'll sleep better. Actually, it's not that easy. If you're too tired to make lifestyle changes, doing what you need to do to sleep better is that much harder. Okay, climbing off the soap box.
I love my job (I'm a sleep tech). I love it when people wake up and report having the best night sleep they've ever had, despite the fact that they're wired from head to toe, and wearing a CPAP mask for the first time. Getting a good night's sleep can be a life changing event.
The [cruel] irony that I couldn't sleep before going to work to watch people sleep is not lost on me.
