( . . . ) starter call for ( @deptaid )
it was easy for an eight hour shift to turn into a twelve hour shift — that happened more often than not. dana just kind of shrugged and vaguely told people she was off in 'eightish' hours when they asked. sometimes she was off after eight. sometimes nine. rarely ten or eleven. and occasionally twelve. this was different, this was a long one. one of the rare neverending shifts they liked to joke about, but it was never something to laugh about. because if they were stuck in the emergency room for fifteen hours? something bad happened. this was one of those times. and dana was tired. physically, mentally, emotionally just exhausted.
"about time someone gets some work done around here," she teased to lighten the mood, scribbling something on her tablet for putting it down for what she hoped was the last time that day. maybe she could pull a mohan and find a dark corner to take a cat nap in. that was all she needed, just five to seven minutes. her back hurt, her feet were sore, hell, she even had a black eye. which was a physical representation for how she was feeling, black and blue. "what time did you sneak in?" she knew they made a call, asking for all hands on deck. she had seen some of the night shift around, but couldn't tell ya what time any of them clocked in.