In this post I will compliment myself

It's been hectic.  Something about cold, dreary days, wet snow brings people in from all over.  Car accidents, falls, people doing dumb stuff and viola....I have job security.  Now I appreciate having a job and I'm thankful and everything, but last night....
I've mentioned dealing with confused patients, but every now and again you get a confused patient that is beyond description.  This patient had flipped a switch.  I took care of this patient when they first got to my floor and they were fine.   The next night, things were different.  Different patient.  Same patient, but not the same person.  Confused, agitated, yelling, hitting.  I tried to speak softly.  Explain myself.  Something was wrong with this patient and it seemed like the providers on the case were not going to deal with it.
In the morning I was talking to the MD about the situation and what I dealt with throughout the night, and as I'm talking he's walking away from me.  Doesn't want to hear what I have to say because you know, I'm scum to the earth.  I did what I could to advocate for my patient, talking to the right people to see if anyone was going to take action.  Yet, this is all I can do.  Often our hands are tied and we can only do so much.  This leads to terrible sleep and nightmares of being beat up by your patient.
But one thing got me through last night.
Middle of the night I admitted a little sweetness from the ER.  This patient fell, was so kind, grateful.  This is what I needed to balance out my frustration.  My tears were at the surface all night and it was all I could do to let my frustration get to me.
I was listening from the hallway as I sometimes do to try and see how my patients are really feeling when sweet fallen patient told her roommate how smart, how kind all the nurses had been.  The tears at the surface started pouring out.  Oops.  I try not to cry at work, you know it's unprofessional and I try to fool people into thinking I'm some tough, hard-core nurse, but I'm not.  I'm soft and mushy and gooshy.  Just then as I was listening, the patients pump started alarming.  I stepped in to fix it.
Then, 80 year old something fallen sweetness said, "You're pretty sharp, dude."  I thought, did they really just say "dude?"  I may be getting kicked at, yelled at by another patient, but that one moment brought it all back together for me.