Vertical and Caffeinated (Barely)

Thirty-six hours. Two twelve-hour shifts back to back because we were short-staffed and somebody had to cover. I dragged myself through the door at 7am looking like I’d been hit by a very specific truck – one carrying medical equipment and the dreams of exhausted nurses.

Vertical and Caffeinated (Barely)

Marcus took one look at me and handed me the largest mug we own filled with what I can only assume is liquid salvation. I’ve been standing in this kitchen for twenty minutes now, too tired to move but somehow still upright. The scrubs are wrinkled, the hair situation is what can only be described as ‘chaotic neutral,’ and I’m pretty sure I forgot to take my stethoscope off until I got home.

The exact moment caffeine meets bloodstream

The funny thing about being this tired is that everything becomes strangely peaceful. The house is quiet, the kids are still asleep, and there’s something beautiful about these stolen moments before the day officially starts. Marcus keeps hovering nearby like I might collapse at any second (fair assumption), but honestly? I’m good. I’m vertical, I’m caffeinated, and I survived another round of saving tiny humans.

Morning light and quiet moments

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my bed and approximately twelve hours of sleep. The glamorous life of a pediatric nurse, ladies and gentlemen.