Night shifts haunt you. Truly. Going into the medical profession and being assigned those grueling hours change every aspect of your life. For starters, your sleeping schedule has to be widely different from the rest of the human population, so say goodbye to all friends, family, and practically every other human being and get ready to integrate into a bat dominated society. Then, your diet has to be removed of pretty much every ounce of junk food, because carbs will spike you with energy only to crash you later. Basically, if you don’t like fruits or vegetables, you’re screwed. When you’re finally awake and energized enough to show up to your hospital or clinic for work, and can now indulge in less healthy foods, you’re only met with the most garbage food on the planet. Seriously, a middle school cafeteria is gourmet compared to what’s dished out in hospitals. Get it? Dished out?
Even after I left the nurse life, my night shifts still plagued me. In fact, they could have even been the reason my husband and I began arguing more and more, as I would jolt up from bed around three in the morning long after my resignation, frantically searching for the scrubs that I no longer had, waking him up in the process. It was like I was a trauma victim, reliving the event of my injury every single night (or early morning, that is), except I wasn’t the victim of any serious crime. Well, to be fair, those cardboard meals were a crime against humanity. Or a crime at bats, since I don’t think I’ll ever be a full ‘human’ again.Like