Working nights I have to switch back and forth from staying up during the day to staying up all night. Which means I pull an all-nighter about once a week, with a nap in between if I'm lucky. The last night that I work, I try to sleep only about 4 hours during the morning so that I will be able to sleep that night. SO I lose 12 hours of sleep a week. 48 hours a month . 576 hours a year. And I never get it back.
Part 1:
The Haze...
I wake up with that groggy, nauseated feeling you get when you stayed up later than you should have. My head is fuzzy, every thing moves slower, and I am in a haze for the next couple of hours. This is not my brightest time. No big decisions or conversations should be made or had. My husband and children tread lightly around me and Aaron's been known to tell me to go back to bed, to make me nicer. He's always right.
Part 2:
Miss productive
When my body realizes that I am not joking, I am actually up to stay for the rest of the day, I move into productive mode. Cleaning, cooking, activities, plans that I have to make up for the time I've been gone.
Part 3:
The crash
This is when I fall into bed at 10 or 11pm and sleep like a dead dog until little hands pull at my face in the morning or the threat of a bursting diaper pulls me out of bed. If I'm lucky I have 2 normal days off. And then it starts over again.
Why I still work nights:
I am certain this schedule is awful for your body, it probably leads to long-term health problems and insomnia. I don't think anybody should do this for a life-time, although many people do.
I LOVE IT.
I love coming in when everyone in suits and heels are leaving. I love turning the lights down and the music up. I love the smell of coffee at 3 am. I love watching the sun rise and set on my shift. I love listening to patient's fears and concerns when they can't sleep at midnight and their family and friends have left. I love giving the little old ladies baths and braiding their hair to help them sleep better. I love working in the quiet of the night when the rest of the town is sleeping. It feels special somehow, to watch over people in their most vulnerable state when they have let down their guard and are trusting you to keep them safe.
It's not all wonderful. There are busy nights with very sick people that keep you on your toes. There are nights you never see your chair or your dinner or your coffee. But for now, while I'm young and healthy and still sane,
I like my nights.