Adjustments

It's been about 2 1/2 weeks since I first transfered to MICU, and what had once been excitement is now merely a vague memory. I've often voiced a strong distaste for change, thus I surprised even myself when the reality of my request for transfer set in. Now I just feel like I'm living a nightmare. I had myself convinced that this would be an easy adjustment. Yet I am not too proud to admit that you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

Some things will never change, and it seems that my aversion to change is one of those things. Of course I'll be the first to admit that there are things about working on the floor that I will never miss. I'll never miss dealing with difficult family members for 12 hours straight. I'll never miss doctors treating me like an ignoramous. I'll never miss all the running and rushing and hurrying to get everything done. I'll never miss not having all the time I need to do those little things that matter most to my patients.

Everyday though is a struggle for me. Slowly I'm running into former co-workers who all ask me the same question, "How do you like MICU?" Normally I would have plenty to say in response. But for the first time in a long time I'm speechless. I don't even feel like a generic "I don't know." would suffice. I don't know how I feel about it. I'm not indifferent. I just haven't figured it all out yet.