When the inevitable happened, I was taking an exam. I won’t say that I knew the exact moment, but I had a feeling that it *might* happen. I’d even fought with my aunt the night before.

“You should be here tomorrow. Your father will probably die. You will regret not being here if it happens when you aren’t here”

“I won’t, but thanks for trying to make me feel guilt that I don’t have. He wasn’t there for me in life; why should I be there for him in death”

And with that, I stormed out, not even a glance over the shoulder at the soon to be departed.

I may have been daddy’s little girl when I was 5, but that ship had certainly sailed by 15, and at 25, we were strangers. I’d like to think I’m past the ‘it’s all my parents’ fault, but are we ever really over it?

I sat in the back row of the church during the memorial service. My aunt, my dad’s new 24-year old wife, my grandmother, and an assorted cast of loose acquaintances fill the pews of the small church that the service was held in. Next to me was my mom, who divorced my dad when I was a 7. Her husband didn’t come. My college roommate, who I hadn’t seen in a couple years, was on the other side of me, and beside her were two of my professors from school.

My cousin, the minister, gave the eulogy. It was all about how my dad was the best uncle to him and his brothers. And how he used to do things with them… how he was like a second father to them. He talked about how his recent marriage was a ‘new chance at life’. He talked about how he was a changed man by letting a dog in his life–and how that dog never left his side. My cousin the minister opined for nearly 20 minutes about the virtues of his uncle. He just forgot to mention that my father had a daughter.

And that was the moment I knew… maybe it’s for the best that he forgot to mention me.

Everyone else did too.

 

“Did you here about Jeremy?”

I’m once again in the ICU at the large hospital where Jermey works for my clinical day. The absolute last thing I want to hear about in anything Jeremy did or didn’t do. But also, I can say none of this. By some miraculous twist of fate, I think I have escaped the association with Jeremy. Like when people inevitably talk about me, although they don’t realize it, I am the foolish one they are referencing.

My patient is unconscious and ventilated. I’m attempting to draw an ABG to assess the ventilation status of our patient, and well, to practice my ABG skills. They are adequate, but I’m not going to lie, I don’t like hurting people. Even if they are unconscious.

My preceptor for the day is one of the ones engaging in the gossip about Jeremy so I can’t help but hear it.

“No, what has that foolish man done this time?’ my preceptor asks. One of the best things about working with this particular preceptor is the fact that she, also, hates Jeremey. Hate may be a strong word. She says he overestimates his abilities and has an exceedingly high opinion of himself. ‘Lord, give me the confidence of a middling white man’; she tells me this should be my mantra whenever I have self-confidence issues. Which is a lot.

“He and that girl from radiology eloped. On April Fools Day.”

“For real? What is her name anyway?”

“Rachel. Isn’t she like 20 or something?”

“I heard they had only been dating a couple of months”

“Wasn’t he dating someone else though, like recently? I never heard that girl’s name, but I’m pretty sure she worked here. You know, the one where his ex tried to kill the girl”

The gossip about Jeremy and Rachel continue, but I hear none of it. After all, what should I chime in. Hi. I’m the one you’re talking about, it’s me. I absolutely can say none of that so I keep my mouth closed. After all, I have a needle in someone else’s arm and can confirm that is one of the worst ways to hear about your recent ex’s elopement.

At least I was sitting down.

Maybe now people will stop talking about me without really talking about me. But how does one move on so quickly? I’m barely hanging on to my sanity, and Jeremy is marrying some girl from radiology.

I am hating my life right now.

 

I went home with James. His apartment is right across the street from the restaurant so it’s convenient.

I got in the shower and washed all the blood away. Somehow it had gotten in my hair. I got out of the shower and James had given me a t-shirt to wear. Everything else was destroyed anyway.

I came out of the bathroom and James had really stepped things up. He had cooked a meal and poured out a glass of wine. James is older than me, but sexy as hell and clearly knows his way around the kitchen. I cut into the chicken piccata he’d whipped up in the time I was in the shower. It was delicious.

“So that’s the guy you’ve been dating. The one who just stood around while you saved his ex’s life.”

“Yea, I didn’t see that coming. He always seems so sure of himself in the hospital. Like when the code is called, he shows up and takes over, acting like an air traffic controller. I never would have imagine he’d freeze like that”

“You know we will have to press charges against his ex. At minimum, property destruction. I hope it doesn’t cause you any problems.”

“Why should it? *I* didn’t destroy property. Thanks for dinner; it was amazing. I am exhausted”.

“Go sleep in my bed. I’m going to clean up and wind down. Don’t worry, I’ll behave. Besides, when we have sex, you’re going to want to remember it. And I’m not sure you’re going to remember a lot about tonight”

****** *********** ************ *********** ************ **********

One month later

My dad is in the hospital. Again. Even more awkward it’s the hospital where Jeremy works and I do my clinicals. It’s awkward telling my instructors that under no circumstances do I want any of my classmates working with him.

It’s even more awkward seeing Jeremy.

A relationship kinda dies when the police get involved. As in there was a restraining order. And a court case. And involuntary commitment to a psychiatric hospital. Not many romances can survive that.

Oh and the fact I saw him with someone else. When he cancelled a date with me.

I feel like I’ve been exiled. Banished to the far reaches of humanity where few dare to tread.

***** ****** ******* ******** ********* ******** ************

Two week after that

“Are you OK?” Chris asks me.

“I am not even remotely OK. In span of a month, my now ex’s ex girlfriend tried to kill me,  the guy I’ve been dating for a year  just decided go date someone else without telling me.. My dad is dying and I can’t do anything about it. I’m fucking my boss at the restaurant just to have someone to hold me when I fall apart. I can’t deal with everything alone, yet, I keep pushing people away. It’s like I’m in a permanent state of exile.”

“I’m still here.”

“I mean not really. I see you two days every other week… If that. I don’t have your number. You don’t have mine. If I didn’t show up, you’d never know what happened. Unless you listened to the rumor mill-which you say you don’t, but you still seemed to know an awful lot about Jeremy. And how that went up in flames… You knew how my dad was doing before I even said anything. I literally had someone try to kill me and you never…”

“I know. And I’m sorry. I didn’t know how. Or what to say. I still don’t.”

The dam finally bursts

“yea, well, no one else does either. My dad is dying. Slowly. School is dragging on. I spend every waking moment in a hospital either working in one, going to school in one, or visiting in one. I’m literally sleeping on the floor in waiting rooms. I’m exhausted all the time. I barely have time to eat. I hear people whispering about me here, Main, and the restaurant. People who don’t even know me are talking about me. IN FRONT OF ME.

‘Even at the restaurant, I’ll have people say ‘Were you working here when that incident occurred?’ The incident! Someone who I didn’t even know existed literally tried to murder me, and it’s gossip. For the whole town. I even tried to save the one that tried to kill me. You can’t imagine what I’ve heard. What people have said when they didn’t know they were talking to me.

‘It’s literal hell on Earth, and every day I don’t know how I get through the day, and I do only to do it all again the next day. I’m up for ICU rounds at 5a, then I either go to class or change clothes and learn in the same ICU that my dad is a patient in. Then I study a little and go to work either here or at the restaurant. If I’m at the restaurant, then I sleep at James’s place. Only to get up and do it all over again. With the locations reversed. And no one asks how I am. Or offers to help. Or anything. But something is always wrong. And I don’t know how much more I can handle before I become the knife wielding protagonist in someone else’s story.”

And with that I walked away.

Chris had nothing to say anyway.

 

I’m in my last 6 month of school. Sometimes it’s stressful. We are almost always in one of the ICUs or sometimes the ER so our patients are never really ‘well’. I still pick up shifts at the satellite hospital where Chris works. That pace is a lot slower, but I’m also a lot more independent there.

I’ve never really mentioned my other job, but I’ve been working at the restaurant since before I started school. I’m a hostess/bartender and train new employees. It’s a fun job and I get heavily discounted food and bartending is fun. It definitely puts into things into perspective because at the end of a stressful night at the restaurant everyone is always still alive.

A couple shifts ago, Jeremy’s ex showed up to the restaurant. She was yelling! YELLING at me, saying that she was going to commit suicide because she has nothing to live for now that I’ve taken Jeremy away from her. Y’all, I didn’t know this woman existed and she shows up at my job calling me every sort of insult one could come up with. It got so bad the General Manager came out and told the woman that if she didn’t calm down, he would call the police on her.

Meanwhile, I texted Jeremy to tell him his crazy ex was at the restaurant and that I wasn’t going to put up with this treatment. James had me go to the back of the house to help diffuse the tension, but to no avail. Susan kept yelling. And threatening me.

About 5 minutes later, Jeremy shows up, and tries to calm Susan down. She continued to hurl threats at me, and starts to pick up food and plates off of diners’ table and throw them at the glass window. People started yelling. I’m sure someone called the cops.

Susan picked up a steak knife off of one of the tables and slashed her own throat. People screamed. I ran out from behind the window, grabbing cloth napkins on my way to her. I get to her and hold pressure at her neck. She’s fighting me the whole time. Jeremy is standing around being completely useless. The cops arrive and call for an ambulance. They help subdue Susan. Meanwhile, I’m still holding pressure. The ambulance arrives, takes over and wheels Susan out. I look down and realize I’m covered in blood. It’s 8p on a Saturday night. The restaurant should be packed; meanwhile, we are having to close because it’s an active crime scene.

The police question me. And Jeremy. And some of the dinner guests. By 10p, I am exhausted. And covered in blood. Jeremy is a mess; mentally and physically. The the police finally let us go they turn to me and say, “do you have anywhere you can stay tonight. I don’t think you should be alone. “

James tells them that I am staying with him and can be reached at his number. Jeremy says nothing,

I walk out with James’ jacket over my shoulders wondering what the fuck just happened and feeling quite certain that everything with Jeremy has exploded like a powder keg on the 4th of July.

 

I don’t like rules and I don’t always follow them but call it what you want to and  sometimes RULES are just RULES, and these are the rules. 

The Rules

1. The Night Shift is a work of fiction. Realistic fiction. Fiction so real you may think it’s real. But fiction nonetheless. Even the main character, RT ElizaMarie is fiction. All the other people–also fiction, but just in case they aren’t–names have been changed to protect the innocent. Or the guilty.

2. You don’t know me. Even if you do, pretend you don’t. Anonymity is never guaranteed on the interwebs, but I’ll do my best to convince you that you don’t me.

3. You don’t know the person I am talking about. Because it’s almost a 100% chance that the person I am talking about is an amalgam of more than one person. And even if it’s not, you still don’t know that person. See rule #2

4. Nothing or no one is as it appears. [See rules 1, 2, 3, 5 & 6 for explanations]

5. HIPAA is for real. [I don’t want to lose my license before I get it or get kicked out of school before I finish]

6 I make things up…like names, details, and locations. [once again, see rule 4 for explanation]

7. The institution is the place most of the stories occur. The actual institution changes as new opportunities present themselves.

8. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental, and speaks to universal issues in healthcare. And love. And life.

9. Once again, The Night Shift is a work of fiction. Nothing mentioned should be construed as medical advice. If you need medical advice, you should probably seek advice from an actual medical professional, or call 9-1-1 in a true emergency.

10. The Night Shift is for entertainment purposes only.But it’s not a bedtime story you’d want to read to children. Or impressionable young adults.

11. Since some of these chapters take place during education events, absolutely all policies of related educational institutions were followed. Or they would be. If any of this were real.

12. Sometimes life imitates art and sometimes art imitates life. Sometimes we never know which is which.

13. I couldn’t think of any other rules or disclaimers,, but I like round numbers. Numbers divisible by 3, 5, and 10 are also acceptable. The only prime number that is acceptable is 13. It’s been my jersey number since I started T-ball at age 5.  Before Taylor Swift was even born so I absolutely did not conscript that from her. Unlike every single chapter name in this story. 

Dear Reader:

Hi. My name is Eliza Marie Montgomery, and this is my story. It’s been said that one’s co-workers determine job satisfaction. Especially in healthcare. To some degree, I believe that’s true. After all, these are the people I spend the most waking time around. And even not on a 12 hour shift, these are the people that can still make your day ‘good’ or ‘bad’.

Co-workers can become friends over time. After all, who else can you trauma bond with during a traumatic shift. Who else can literally save your life during a violent patient encounter? Co-workers can also become more than friends. After all, as a single person, where else are you going to find someone to date? While it seems good in theory, this is almost always a bad idea. It’s hard to maintain a collegial relationship with someone who has seen you naked. There’s always a little bit of truth to shows like Grey’s Anatomy. The Night Shift is my story and these are my people. Some I like better that others.

Cast of Characters

• Gus–> a grizzled old veteran, the boss, just trying to make it to retirement
• Mitzi–> ditzy, blonde, know-it-all, tries to make my life hell. I try to avoid her
• Lloyd–>30+ years on the job; knows how to do everything
• Ike–>another old timer; night shift, sleeps most of the shift
• Sandy–>does yoga when she thinks no one is around; also night shift
• Dr. Chris–>physician, hospitalist, the nicest and most approachable of the hosptialists
• Dr Greg–> ER physician, knows his stuff, no nonsense, hilarious
• Nurse Liz–>my favorite ER nurse
• Kate–>my classmate and friend, has the same job as me starting out but at the larger intuition

__________________ ______________________ _____________

Additional characters occurring later

• Nurse DJ–>fun, knowledgable, RN, around my age
• Justin–>I dated a hockey player; it was fun for a minute, but Canada, in winter–no thank you
• Nurse Margaret–>the human embodiment of the energizer bunny, fund of knowledge only gained by being a RN for >50 years
• Charlotte–> another BFF at the institution
• Christy–>my partner in crime at the institution
• Nurse Maria–>my nurse BFF at the. latest institution
• Jeremy–>a mid-level manager type at the large institution. I dated him; it went badly
• James–> my restaurant boss; I dated him too. You can imagine how that went
• Jeff–>You’d think I’d learn that dating co-worker is the worst idea ever.
• Taylor–> my co-resident. I guess you can probably figure out what happened there.