Sometimes a couple of hours into a 12 hour shift something bad happens. Your patient dies. And its a really young patient.
Its really rough. A young life gone. A family in shock.
The thing is this happens in the middle of a very busy day. The day doesn't end because this happens. It goes on. There are more criticals. The lobby is full. You have to move on. You have to move on after you tried to close the eyes of the young patient and they wouldn't close. You move on after you talked on the phone to the hysterical family. You don't get to go somewhere and think about what just happened.
You move on to the next one. The next one could be a stubbed toe. Or it could be another critical patient. You spend the next 10 hours running your butt off. That patient is still on your mind. You are exhausted. Cranky. The shift seems to go on forever.
When you get home, that's when you can think about the patient, wonder about how their family is doing, look at your son and feel thankful he is OK.