The Night Shift

I don't think I've ever worked a night shift before.

Now, with Margaret home and having nursing care 16 hours a day, we always have a night shift going in our house. Someone needs to be awake and alert with Margaret 24/7. She's on an oxygen monitor, so she will "beep" a warning if her breathing becomes irregular, but the basic idea with a child with a trach is that you need to be with them--minding them--all the time.

Often in these first few weeks, we have not had nursing coverage for the "night shift," from 11 PM to 7 AM. Beth or I work it.

For me, that has meant pulling up a yoga mat next to her crib. I lie on the floor, listening to her. She sleeps deeply, for the most part. But occasionally, she rolls over and the oxygen tube that covers her trach will become dislodged and the O2 monitor sounds its alarm. I startle awake, adjust the position of the tube gently to re-cover the opening in her neck through which she breathes, watch her for a few more minutes, then lie back down.

It's not comfortable for me to be awake in the middle of the night. It's a lonely time. The house feels too large and too cold. My instinct is to curl up, to find the security of a deep, warm sleep.

Instead, I am awake. And I realize how many other people are awake not because they choose to be, but because something is forcing them to be mindful.

It's not where I want to be... but it's where I have to be. I want to be sleeping. Instead, I am awake, all for the sake of someone else.