I have learned two very important lessons this weekend:
1. I, under no circumstance, ever want to be a charge nurse. I mean, that job blows. What do you do when you have four ambos coming in, a diabetic coma patient that just rolled into triage, a respiratory distress in a wheelchair in the hallway, and an electrocution...all at one time....when you only possess a precious few trauma rooms? I tell the charge nurse and return to my station. She tells herself she is going to go crazy.
2. Triage sucks anus. A lot of anus. People just keep coming and coming and coming and after the 85th abdominal pain with vomiting or sore throat with cough, you just don't give a crap. Until you're elbow deep dealing with said hallway wheelchair respiratory distress patient and there are 38 other people who need to be triaged and you don't have a room and someone somehow finds you in the hall and politely informs you that their mother is in a diabetic coma in the back of a big ass Explorer in the freezing parking lot. Then you have to care, but you sort of don't want to.
I hate triage. I don't want to be a charge nurse. That is all.