On Call

So, I am on call again this weekend. It came closer than it was going to be originally because one of my coworkers gracioulsy agreed to switch the weekends with me.

I can't tell you why...yet. And no, it's nothing outrageously wonderful or anything. Just something.

I find it interesting that SOME people have a weird perception of what it means to be on call. Especially if you are on call for a SMALL hospital. When I am on call, it is for the call surgical crew, and that consists of three people. THREE. Me, the nurse, and the CRNA or Anesthesiologist. THAT's IT.

If someone needs surgery...any type of surgery that we cover. I am it. This can mean that I could be called in to the hospital at 6:30 AM and not leave til midnight or later. It's happened. It's life.

I thought people understood this. I thought they understood that I can't be more than 20 minutes away from the hospital because of this, and the closer you are, the better because we also cover the c-sections, and you never know when a emergency c-section is going to happen. (I'm not talking the, yeah, we should do a c-section as soon as possible, I'm talking the, crap this baby needs to be out NOW! c-sections. The c-sections that happen in less than 5 minutes. The c-sections that techs, nurses, and basically anyone on the planet DREAD.)

Apparently not though. Apparently some people think I use being on call as an excuse. An excuse at times to get people to watch my kids, because, hey, FREE night for me right? NOT!

Being on call is STRESSFUL. I am never at ease. I go to bed at night knowing that I may get a call at 3 AM telling me there is a crash c-section and I need to get my butt to the hospital ASAP. I live that way, ALL WEEKEND LONG. It is not relaxing. It is not enjoyable. It is NOT something I look forward to.

I thought people could understand and appreciate that, but apparently I was wrong. Admittedly, not ALL people, but some. Seriously, I have a really hard time understanding the "some." I don't know if I ever will.