Against the Tide

I remember riding the subway on Friday evening, heading to the first of three night shifts in the emergency department. I had slept poorly during the day, and didn't know what to expect from these first weekend overnights. Traumas? Procedures? Would I be able to handle the pressure?

I surveyed my fellow passengers. The subway seemed bouyant, full of laughter and the relief of people leaving the work week behind. I felt a pang knowing that, whatever happened these next few nights, I'd be missing the party.

But I was wrong -- the party, as it turned out, came to me.

Riding back on this morning, with my post-shift giddiness, I scanned the solemn Monday morning faces. Are they concerned about the same things I was? Could they possibly enjoy their jobs as much as I do mine?