Working in an ER can be some of the most exciting moments in my day. From being a quiet, normal, easy, day with just a few patients, to instantly changing when you hear "Unit 3, 10-76 to Trinity, one patient on board, 10-33, CPR in progress, advise Code Blue." Your heart sinks, your gut tightens, and you know you are changing the course of one family's life. But at the same time, your pulse is racing, your hands get a little sweaty, and you know it's go time. Chasing the ambulance trying to figure out who your patient is, realizing they don't know who the patient is, having real life John or Jane Doe's, and hoping someone shows up to identify the patient before anything worse happens is part of my daily routine.
Lately, though, I'm over it. I don't want to have to see family members come into the ER with some hope and leave realizing they've lost a family member. It is worse when you see a fiance, a mother, or a child. Especially when that child is young. More often than I care to think about, I see a child that has been yanked out of school, being told something bad happened to their mom or dad, and show up to find out they now only have one parent. And yet, death is a fact of life, and seeing it regularly makes me jaded. I don't like it.