Shero or Scapegoat?

On my honor, I will try:

To serve God and my country,

To help people at all times,

And to live by the Girl Scout Law.

Four lines that rang inside my mind as my Healing Hands scrub pants were slipped on , my name tag with the title RN clipped to my double pocketed Ciel blue top and my Clove shoes squeaking along the hospital hallway.

A childhood sonnet recited as my proverbial war paint is applied to my cheeks, yellow surgical mask and gloves as the cherry on top as I suited up for another 12 hour long episode called nursing.

A mantra repeated to myself for many a pandemic tainted shift to keep the 10 year old inside who dreamed of doing nothing else but this with her life from walking away , never again to look back.

Nowadays, I'm unaware of the surprises that 6 Main will bring  , but it lately has been featuring the following:

• the man with the rotting coccyx wound who refuses their dressing changes,
• the combative Alzheimer's sufferer with a second cousin in the medical field who calls and makes you feel about as small as a grain of sand, belittling your care and ethics because they're on "too many meds and sleep all the time" , though you have to dodge a knee to the stomach or being spat at on the daily,
• the male doctor with the thick Middle Eastern accent who you hate to call to clarify an order because  you can't make head or tails of their shitty handwriting or language,
• the 23 year old IV drug user with endocarditis who throws a tempter tantrum because their  2 mg PRN Dilaudid is q 4 hours versus Q 2 hours, threatening to leave AMA,
• the vanilla ice toned old man who pisses you off deep by calling you "Colored" or "stupid black b*tch", yet you have to grit and smile as if nothing ever happened, cursing them out in your mind,
• the new admit who goes unresponsive 1 hour before shift change
• the brittle diabetic having a critical blood sugar of 28 at 5am and you gotta push an amp of D50 in one busted looking midline,
• the 55 year old lady confused out her mind who's now subject to Pivot versus pizza to get her nutrition, donning a pair of soft wrist restraints since pulling out her freshly placed PEG tube, 
•  and the completely healthy 36 year old now suddenly spending life on a ventilator due to the Medusa of a beast known as COVID-19.

With likely one or more of these possible scenarios:

• Being forced to recycle sanitized N95 masks simply due to the nationwide shortage of PPE. 
• When upper management thinks free pizza, cookies and lanyards during Hospital Week will pacify and smooth over our anger towards our current circumstances. 
• With being faced of the threat of being jobless if a Pfizer, Moderna or Johnson and Johnson needle isn't to make a pit stop in our bodies.
• When the sight of bags under our eyes, bruised indents and acne from constant mask wearing, dried and peeling hand skin from hand hygiene and walking out on the career you once loved due to burnout  STILL doesn't warrant one dime of hazard pay,
• When 8 nurses are gone in 3 months time , only me and one other full timer remain in our group, the rest from contract nursing agencies riddling up our schedule and robbing us of full time hours we rightfully deserve. 

I took an oath to protect and serve others, but who's now around to protect ME?? To service MY energy tank that stays on empty because I gave all I had to people and a company who just seem to flat out not give one damn?? Who's to keep those that promised to "do no harm" from suppressing the urge to harm themselves?? Who's to be the beacon of light once my light eventually flickers out for good??