Shift Cycles

Dawn

Julia didn’t understand why she bothered setting an alarm every night, since the incessant pigeon outside her window was the only alarm she really needed. Groaning in irritation, she reached over to the nightstand and blindly tapped her phone. 5:42am. Right on schedule, she thought grimly as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. Through the window blinds she could make out the smallest hint of a pale blue sky, barely discernible to even call it daylight.

After ruffling through her drawers for a fresh(ish) pair of scrubs, Julia made her way into the bathroom. Her reflection in the mirror showed her exactly as she was- a twenty-something-year-old nurse already burnt out from a short-staffed unit with patients that seemed to be getting sicker by the day. Her eyes betrayed her lack of sleep from working multiple consecutive shifts, and her hair- goodness it must have been almost a week since its last wash. 

“Nothing a little dry shampoo can’t fix,” she muttered. “I’ll wash you tomorrow, I promise.”

She brushed her teeth and pulled her hair into a bun. Thank god for scrub caps. Once upon a time, she used to put in effort- she even wore makeup- but those days were behind her. After COVID, she was of the opinion that showing up for her shifts was enough. 

Padding into the kitchen, Julia began to perform her most sacred act of the day. Despite tending to the ill and elderly on a daily basis, she considered preparing coffee as the holiest of actions. She reached for the coffee container, opened the lid, and inhaled deeply. Ah, that’s the good stuff. 

Just as she began scooping coffee grounds, the sound of keys tinkled from the door of the apartment. Within a few seconds, her roommate, Laurel, flounced into the living room carrying a giant Stanley mug in one hand, and an oversized tote bag in the other. Her hair was hidden by a beige scrub cap with what appeared to be uteruses covering its surface area, and her ear was tilted at an angle to hold her cellphone in place on the left shoulder. She wore pink scrubs which were currently untucked and wrinkled, and she was… not wearing any shoes. 

Waving her hand in Julia’s general direction as a form of greeting, Laurel yammered away with her conversation, tossing her belongings on the green velvet sofa. “I know, ma, but I just don’t like him… he only listens to one radio station… he doesn’t know who Led Zeppelin is… I know… I know… I know”- she rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly while flopping belly-down on the couch. She finally met Julia’s gaze and shook her head as if to say, “Can you believe this woman?” 

Julia gave a dry smile and returned to her coffee. Two-and-a-half scoops, a tablespoon of almond milk, a dash of cinnamon, and voilá. She took a sip and felt the liquid warm her insides. If caffeine truly was a drug, this was an addiction worth having. 

Laurel smothered her face into the pillow. “Look, I gotta go, ma, work was crazy last night… Yes, I’ll call him… No, I’m not bringing him to dinner… Bye… Yes, bye, ma.” She leaned over and reached for her cup, taking a long drink. She ripped off her scrub cap, revealing a mass of curly dark hair that Julia couldn’t believe managed to fit so tidily in its hat.

After a full minute, she sighed dramatically and screamed into the pillow.

Julia chuckled while pouring her coffee in a to-go container. “That bad of a shift?”

Laurel peered up at her and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, the usual. I got into a fight with a doctor because he wanted me to keep going up on the pit, even though his patient was already contracting every two minutes. Plus, her baby was having lates.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I told him that if he wanted to go up, he could drive in and do it himself. It’s my license on the line.”

Trying to act as though she understood a single word her roommate just said, Julia nodded sympathetically. This was the most the two of them has spoken to one another since meeting. “I might not know about babies, but I understand rude doctors.” She motioned towards the kitchen. “Well, I’m headed out. I made a fresh pot if you’re interested.”

Laurel shook her head of curls and grinned sheepishly. “Thanks, but I can’t do coffee unless it’s basically sugar. I prefer tea or kombucha.” She jiggled her Stanley as she spoke. “Anyways, have a good shift. Hope it goes better than mine. As long as you don’t get meconium all down your arm, I think you’re good.”

Julia laughed and crossed her fingers. “Let’s hope. Can’t make any promises.” She paused at the door to slip into her car shoes. Which reminded her- “By the way… what happened to your shoes? I noticed you weren’t wearing any when you came in.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, I got blood all over them.”

Dusk

The sun’s fleeting light shone through the living room window, casting a warm glow throughout the apartment. Night was approaching, and for once, Laurel had nothing planned. On a typical day off, she was often out on the town, soaking in the sights and sounds of the city. They were precious to her, those days of recuperating, and they often involved a date with some guy her mom tried to set her up with, or a karaoke bar excursion with friends. Yet tonight, on a Friday no less, she found herself sitting at the kitchen counter eating Thai food and drinking a bottle of red by herself, watching The Bachelor on TV. To be honest, it was shaping up to be one of the best nights in a long time.

The timer on the oven dinged, and she raced over to check on the cookies. They were still a bit doughy- a few more minutes would do.

“Not quite, not quite,” she murmured to herself. Baking was one of the few things she prided herself on being good at, with the exception of her job, of course. She hadn’t managed to secure a boyfriend, much to her mother’s chagrin, but boy, could she whip up a batch of the most perfect, patisserie-worthy cream puffs. Her cookies were known amongst her friends to be the best tasting in the area, and they were often affectionately referred to as “crack cookies.” The secret was browned butter, not that anyone needed to know.

Reaching for the wine bottle, Laurel poured herself another glass. Just as she was about to take a sip, the front door opened abruptly to reveal a distraught looking Julia. 

Laurel frowned, setting the glass down immediately. Her roommate looked awful.

To be perfectly honest, Julia hadn’t been looking too great the past few days. Her eye bags had gotten darker, her weight had dropped, and her frizzy hair was in desperate need of a conditioning treatment. But that was what happened when you were a med-surg nurse working four to five days a week with no staffing. Laurel understood- her own unit was certainly stretched thin, especially with the baby boom happening. But this- this was more than the typical nurse bullshit. This was a code grey at the very least.

Julia’s eyes were red and swollen, and her hair was sticking out from all ends of her bun, like a deranged scarecrow. Her lips were pale and chapped, and it was clear she had been crying. Something bad had happened.

Wordlessly, Julia dropped her bag down at the door and zombie-walked to the couch. If she saw Laurel standing there, she made no motion of greeting. She slumped down onto the ground and leaned against the corner of the sofa, staring blankly at the TV.

Laurel knew there was only one solution. She carefully poured the contents of her glass back into the container and took the bottle with her to the living room. Sitting with enough distance away from Julia (as one does, of course, when a nurse has a rough shift), she reached over and placed the bottle in front of her roommate. When Julia didn’t acknowledge the gesture, she nudged it a little closer. Julia shook her head.

When Laurel opened her mouth to retort, Julia croaked, “I need my own bottle. A whole one.” She turned to face Laurel and gave a weak laugh, her eyes glassy.

Atta girl, Laurel thought approvingly. A girl after her own heart. She gave her roommate a military salute and returned to the kitchen. The aroma of the cookies was strong now- it was time. She reached into the oven with her mitts and pulled the tray out. Perfection. 

While the cookies cooled, Laurel grabbed another bottle of red sitting on the counter. Rule #1 of Nursing: Always have at least two bottles of wine at the ready for any occasion. She uncorked the wine and returned to her companion, who was making a feeble attempt to watch the show. 

Julia took the bottle and gestured to the opened one on the table. Wordlessly, the two girls clinked the containers together and began drinking in silence. After a while Julia sighed heavily. “This was good. But what I really need is chocolate. Or dessert. Or anything remotely unhealthy.”

Laurel nodded solemnly and held up a finger as if to say I got you. She jumped up and returned a few minutes later with a plate of Thai food and a napkin piled with cookies. She set it in front of the girl. “I have a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer too. Cherry Garcia. It got me through a really bad hemorrhage I had last month. Thought they were going to deplete the damn blood bank.”

Julia smiled and gave a half-hearted laugh, the first since she’d been home. She leaned over and put her head on Laurel’s shoulder. They sat without speaking for a few minutes. Then Julia spoke, “Thank you.” Laurel tapped her head back in response, to which Julia replied, “I am going to need that ice cream though.”

As Laurel was reaching into the freezer for the container, she heard Julia moan from the couch. “Holy crap, this is the best thing in my entire life! What did you put in these cookies-crack?!”

Dawn

The next morning, Julia woke up late, grateful to be able to sleep in. Between the terrible day she had had yesterday and the bottle of wine, she was working off a massive headache and brain fog. What she needed was coffee. 

She shuffled into the kitchen and pulled out her favorite ceramic mug. It could hold a whopping twenty ounces. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Turning towards the coffee pot, she stopped in her tracks at seeing a steaming mug of coffee already brewed and waiting for her on the counter. Next to it was a hand-written note and two Tylenol. 

Julia frowned in confusion. Did she somehow do this before she went to bed? No, it had to have been recently, the coffee was still hot. But who…

She picked up the note and read.

Dear Julia,

I was hoping to stay awake long enough to chat, but you needed to sleep in, and I have to go to bed now to get ready for work tonight. You don’t have to talk about your shift- trust me, been there done that- but I’m here if you ever want to vent.  - Laurel

P.S. I hope I made your coffee the way you like it. Two-and-a-half scoops with cinnamon and almond milk? 

P.P.S Take the Tylenol

Smiling, Julia picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip. Perfect. She spied a Tupperware of the cookies from last night tucked away on the counter. Taking one, she started to make her way back to bed, but then thought better of it. She took two instead. 

Dusk

Julia didn’t see Laurel again until the following week as she was coming in from a (better) shift. She flung her bag down on one of the barstools and began searching for something to eat. She wasn’t that hungry, but she knew she couldn’t afford to lose any more weight.

Reaching for a box of Cheerios, she heard Laurel’s bedroom door open. Her roommate emerged into the living room in a cloud of perfume, her pink scrubs neatly pressed and her hair pulled into a tidy curly ponytail. 

She twirled and struck a pose “Ta-da!” 

Julia shook her head in awe. “You amaze me. I have no idea how you manage to look so put together for work. I applaud you. Truly.” She poured the cereal into a bowl.

“Oh, pour me a bowl, will ya?” Laurel slid into the empty seat next to the bag. “How was it today? Bad bad, or just normal bad?”

“Just normal bad.” She slid a bowl and spoon in front of the girl. “One of my patients decided he didn’t want to have his catheter in anymore, so he just”- she made a motion with her hand “-yanked it out.”

Laurel snickered so hard, milk sprayed out of her mouth. “You’re joking. Man, I don’t miss working with men at all. No, thank you.” She waved her spoon. “Give me a bad tracing or a hemorrhage any day- I’d still take it over med-surge. No offense,” she added.

Julia shook her head. “None taken. In all seriousness, I want to change specialties. I’m tired of seeing all colors of bodily fluids and dealing with NG tubes and suppositories, and forcing my patients to take their meds. Maybe I should transition to L&D like you. I’d get to hold babies all day.”

“You did not just say that.” Laurel gave her the evil eye. 

“Kidding, kidding.” Julia cleared her throat. “So, my shift the other day?” 

Laurel looked up and gave her her full attention. “Mhm?” Clearly she had been patiently waiting to hear to story, but was eager to find out what had happened. 

“We had a debrief on it today… basically, we coded my patient for almost two hours. My wrists are still sore from doing CPR.”

“What do they think happened?” 

Julia shrugged. “I dunno. They’re thinking it might have been a heart attack. But I mean, I had just checked on her. She was fine one minute, and the next…” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Anyway, it was really tough for me. She’d been a patient of ours for a few weeks and it seemed like she was getting better.” 

Her eyes felt warm. Dammit. She thought she was done crying over this. It was a part of the job, dealing with death. It was something you de-compartmentalized. You mourn it and get over it and move on with life. 

She felt Laurel’s arms around her, cocooning her in a warm, jasmine-scented embrace. Wiping tears from her eyes, she continued. “It just sucks, you know? Doing all this work and trying so hard for our patients only to have the shittiest things happen.” She was tired of it. Being a nurse was a rewarding career, but it was slowly draining of her of patience and resilience. 

Laurel nodded while patting her hair. “Yeah, it does. But someone’s gotta do it, and hey, it might as well be us. We deal with the best and the worst of life, which can be really exhausting, but it also means we get to be there for people at the most pivotal moments of their existence. And for me, when I get too overwhelmed with everything, knowing that makes it worth it. Well, that and wine. And when I go to bed at night, I know that I’m making a positive difference in the world, no matter how shitty it can be.”

Julia let out a sigh of agreement and squeezed her roommate. “Thanks, Laurel.”

“Anytime. I’m a pillar of wisdom, you know. It’s how I coach my mammas through labor.” She winked and reached for her bag and Stanley. “I gotta get going. You're okay tonight?"

Julia batted her hand. "Yeah, of course. Thanks for everything." She smiled wistfully. "I'm really glad you're my roommate."

Laurel blew her a kiss. "Ditto. See you in the morning?”

“I’ll be up at dawn with the pigeons.”

Laurel laughed. “Ah, yes, you’ve undoubtedly been acquainted with Rodney. He’s lived here longer than I have, so I guess I can’t evict him.” She shrugged. “Ah well. See ya later!”

As she exited the apartment, Julia remembered something important. “Oh, wait! Stay strong tonight! It’s a full moon out… I’ll pray for you.”

All she heard was a loud, “FUU”- before the door slammed closed, leaving Julia alone in the quiet dusk of the evening.