Cry
Just another stupid shift
Oh, let me tell you why,
Staffing so bad
I could almost cry,
Instead I was cussing
A blue streak and more,
As two going-home patient's
Left their blood on the floor.
One patient was waiting
For a room, all day long,
Thirteen hours on hold
That's one bluesy song,
Filled with hours of pain
Nausea and more,
Praying for some space
On the Oncology floor.
Six patients at 7 pm
Then two of them split,
Now four of them for two of us
But that's just half of it,
One 8 o'clock bleeder
And a sheath-pull at nine,
The other bleeder at 1030
And she was all mine,
With a growing hematoma
And blood-pressure sky high,
Thirty minutes to stop it
And again, I could cry;
Because our night wasn't finished
Finding a room was a chore,
When the bleeder was transferred
We weren't done, there was more,
With duties, like charting
Cleaning and sorting,
Day shift wants a fresh house
Or they will be snorting,
About the things we didn't do
Though we worked so flippin' late,
Lord, if I get laid-off
I will thank my bloody fate!
Fibril_late;
1/9/14
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