I walked into the station this morning, and the night’s charge nurse asked, “You know you’re charging, right?” Ummm…no. I ran through the list of senior nurses who are always there. Not today.
The day was okay. Not too much went on as far as charging duties, but it was my first day to charge alone. The nurses working with me were all fairly new except for the ICU nurse who was pulled to our station, though she was unfamiliar with our routine and discharge procedures.
I had to get the right people to come down and fix our copier. It had an error message (F-77-o2 something or other) and a sad-faced man wearing a tie and carrying a suitcase. Seriously weird, never seen it before, and it took all day to get it fixed.
I took care of assignment changes at 3pm. I checked our crash cart. I helped my nurses with whatever they needed. My patients were great.
It really was a good day, and yet I left with a headache over the additional stress of responsibility. Nothing happened, but the idea that something could happen kept me on edge.