This weekend is a call weekend. And tomorrow I am off (after 8 and once I give appropriate handover), followed by a trip half way across the country to present my research. I am excited.
My calls lately have had some odd streaks to them.
For instance, I had one that was, well, a complete surprise.
The program administrator sent me my schedule for the next block including my 5 dates for call in the next four weeks. I didn’t get a copy of the master call schedule, but so long as I knew when I was on call, that is all that really mattered. I could call locating to find out who the staff was.
But, then, I was in teaching one day when one of the staff docs came in and gave me a post-it note, said we were on call together and all his info was there and left. I though it was for when I was on with him that coming holiday Monday.
Then I read the post-it. It informed me that we had 2 beds available, the floor was quiet and that we were on together tonight.
But I wasn’t scheduled for call. So I thought.
Turns out I was according to the board in the nursing unit. And Locating. Apparently, they forgot to list one of my dates when they sent out my schedule. Fail.
So much for a date night out with Patrick.
Call is the worst when you aren’t mentally prepared for it. Even if it is home call. I was rotted.
This weekend, I was super tired Friday night and decided to go to bed early after a very quiet night. I went to bed just before 10 and fell asleep. I woke up to my pager just after 11 with a “I wanted to call before you went to bed” call. Little do they know I am like an old person and was already asleep for an hour.
Yesterday, I was in and out of the hospital much of the day. So much so, the security staff (two of them) got to know me by name.
Also yesterday, I had to go to the university library to use their computers to get access to SPSS, the statistics program I did the stats for my research on. This because I discovered the university only licenses the downloads for one year for staff. And both of my supervisors aren’t around to take the time to email computing services and get a new code for me this week.
I get in to the library, which is strangely quiet and am working away when a random guy comes in and sits at the next set of computers away and starts watching something that was making horrifying screaming-like-someone-was-being-murdered noises and other bizarre sounds. I looked around and nobody else seemed to notice. I questioned whether I was part of a weird social experiment for a bit because it kept happening and he was making no effort to turn down his sound or plug in headphones. The sounds of murder had just stopped when my pager decides to go off. And I get a dirty look from some people.
Seriously? We just heard screams of death and other weirdness for the last 10 minutes and the 2 beeps of my pager it took to turn it off is what earns a look of death.
The cat picked up my pager by its “bungee cord” and dropped it in his litter box this morning while I was getting out of the shower. It was in a clean patch, thankfully. I think he hates it as much as I do.