Living in a trough

2002-12-17 - 8:13 p.m.

Today I didn't get home from work until 7. And I'm in such a horrible mood right now. I remember thinking earlier today that today wasn't nearly as bad as the first two days of my work week, but for the life of me I can't think of why right now. I feel like my whole life is a waste of time. Why do I spend all my time doing something I don't enjoy? And why am I not enjoying it? I used to enjoy doing what I do, didn't I? Didn't I? I don't know. Maybe I was delusional. I'm just feeling like such a waste. A waste of time. A waste of money. A waste of effort. A waste of carbon molecules that could be put towards much more productive uses.

I talked to DeenPo today. For about 45 minutes on my way home from work. We did some mutual venting and commiserating and it was good. It felt just like the old days. Only usually after talking to her I feel better. After talking to her tonight I still felt like crap. I hope she felt better after. That would be at least one thing I did that was worth while today. I feel like I spend all my time doing nothing that actually helps anybody. I spend all day working as hard as I can, put in 11 hour days, and do nothing. I'm a zombie and I'm a grouch and I hate myself. I'm beginning to think this isn't worth it. Not that I have a choice.

Today one of my patients died. It was one of those turn-off-the-machines type deaths, not a go-out-in-a-blaze-of-epi-and-defibrillators type deaths. Which makes it that much sadder. And there were two other patients who we also withdrew care from, but as of 1800 tonight they were both living. One of these guys was on hospital day #33. I know it's silly, but he's practically a friend, you know? He's been a constant in my life for over a month. Granted he's been really, really sick and he clearly did not want to be hooked up to machines indefinitely so this was probably good for him to finally let go, but I can't help but be sad about it. He was 42 years old. Not a druggie, not a smoker, not a drinker--did not bring this upon himself in any way. His body just stopped working.

And while I'm in a bad mood, let me just rant about something completely silly. Guys are disgusting. That's right, completely gross. I mean for crying out loud, women in the hospital, no matter how sick, uncomfortable, or disgruntled, will still manage to keep their bodies decently covered and their legs closed. Ok, sometimes a boob will pop out of a gown, but that's very rare. Men, on the other hand, geez, you'd think they like having their balls hanging out. Sickos.

Does anyone else think it's sad that I have to go to bed now when I've only been home for two hours? That I will get up at 5 tomorrow morning and then be gone all day only to come back ready to collapse into my bed once again? Am I the only one who thinks this is not an acceptable state of affairs?