Life keeps moving forclients,and care keeps mattering for clinicians.
Mostofwhatmatters happensbetween sessions,whereno one is taking notes.
So understanding carriesfrom one sessionto the next,withless effort.
Thinkof her lastsession.Shesaidshewastired,andleftitthere.
Between that session and the next, a week nobody in the room saw.
Tuesday, right after. Walked out at ten to nine and sat in the car a minute before starting it. It always takes me a while to come back into the day after. I said more about Sam than I meant to. I am not sure that was fair to him.
Tuesday, late morning. Went to the IGA and left the list on the counter at home. Stood in the cereal aisle trying to remember one single thing. Came back with yogurt we already had two of.
Tuesday, close to midnight. So tired my eyes hurt and still not sleeping. Sam is beside me with the laptop open, that blue light on the ceiling. He says he is just catching up. He has been just catching up every night for two weeks.
Wednesday, 5:20. Four hours, maybe four and a half. I know exactly what that will mean by two this afternoon and I am going in anyway. Coffee in the car.
Wednesday, mid shift. I said bed 12 needs her line changed, and kept walking. Her name is Mme Thibault. She showed me pictures of her grandson on Monday. I heard myself say it and I have been carrying it around all afternoon. That is not who I am at work. Or it did not used to be.
Wednesday night. Home, ate standing up at the counter, asleep before I could think about any of it. First real sleep in a while. I do not remember getting into bed.
Thursday, end of shift. Told at 18:40 that I am staying. Mandatory overtime again. I called Sam and he went quiet in the way that means he is annoyed and trying not to be, which is somehow worse than if he just said it. Cried in the supply room for about ninety seconds, washed my face, went back out on the floor.
Thursday evening. M. Bourassa's family came in around nine. His wife and his two sons. I sat with them and explained it twice and found them chairs so they were not standing in the corridor. His wife held my hand at the end and thanked me by name. I was good at that. I do not know why I am writing it down, it is just the job.
Thursday, past two. Still awake. Body is finished, head is still running the shift. His laptop is open in the other room, I can see the light under the door from here. Neither of us is saying the thing.
Friday, half past eleven. Slept until 11:30 and woke up feeling worse than if I had got up at six. Whole morning gone. Everyone says catch up on your days off, but it never feels like catching up. It feels like falling behind in a different direction.
Friday afternoon. We had a real fight about a cup. One cup, on the counter, not in the dishwasher. Fifteen minutes about a cup. Obviously it was not about the cup.
Friday night. Sam on the couch scrolling, the light on his face. Two more from his team going Monday, he said, the way you would read out the weather. I asked if he was worried. He said no. Neither of us said anything else about it and we watched most of a movie.
Saturday morning. Took her to the park by the church. She did the slide maybe forty times and I actually watched her do it instead of being somewhere else in my head. About twenty minutes where nothing hurt. I would like to remember that this is still possible.
Saturday, before supper. Snapped at her about shoes. Shoes. She went quiet and did the thing where she will not look at me. I apologized and she said it is okay Maman, which made it worse.
Sunday, late morning. It arrives with the coffee now. Not thoughts exactly, more like a weight landing, and then the counting starts. Two more days. What the assignment will be. Whether we will be short again.
Sunday afternoon. Started on Zoé's birthday. Sam said maybe we keep it small this year and I heard what was underneath it and got sharp with him for a reason he could not see. She is turning five. She should get the thing with the balloons.
Sunday, ten to three. Awake since about one. This is the worst one this week. Went out for water and his laptop was still on the table, screen dark by then, just sitting there. I stood in the kitchen for a while and then came back to bed.
Monday, before the shift. Sat in the car in the parking garage with the number already up on my phone. Came very close to calling in. Did not, because I know exactly who would have to stay if I did. Went in. It was a normal evening. I just wanted it written down somewhere that I nearly did not go.
Monday, after midnight. Home and wired again. Thinking about tomorrow morning. I will say it was okay, just tired, same as usual. Which is basically true. I do not really know what else there is to say about it.
Last sessionTuesday, 8:00 · 50 minSReports being tired. Two arguments at home this week, both about small things. Says work is the same as always. Does not raise sleep.OOn time. Flat affect, long pauses. Brief tearfulness when her daughter came up, recovered quickly.AOccupational burnout. Stressors under-reported. Sleep not yet assessed.PLog sleep and mood between sessions. Review in one week.
Next sessionTuesday, 8:00 · in six daysSExpect: it was okay, just tired.ONineteen moments logged. Sleep 2.6 to 9.4 hours, trending down. Three episodes of elevated load, none mentioned at intake.ASleep turns about a day before mood. Conflict content is displaced onto small objects. One episode of high competence was recorded and discarded.POpen with the sleep curve. Ask what is not being said at home. Give the Thursday back to her.
Tuesday, right after
Tuesday, late morning
Tuesday, close to midnight4.4hours slept
Wednesday, 5:204.4hours slept
Wednesday, mid shift88stress· usually 40
Wednesday night7.6hours slept
Thursday, end of shift118bpm· usually 68
Thursday evening
Thursday, past two
Friday, half past eleven9.4hours slept
Friday afternoon76stress· usually 40
Friday night
Saturday morningMood, across the week
Saturday, before supper
Sunday, late morning96bpm· usually 68
Sunday afternoon
Sunday, ten to three2.6hours slept
Monday, before the shift104bpm· usually 68
Monday, after midnightMood, across the week
Going back through the week. At first, almost nothing.
Then a night. A shift. A phone call.
Then all of it.
Onehourin the room.A weekof life aroundit.
Cognitai helps what happens between sessions arrive in the room, understandable and clinically useful.
Tuesday, right afterWalked out at ten to nine and sat in the car a minute before starting it. It always takes me a while to come back into the day after. I said more about Sam than I meant to. I am not sure that was fair to him.
Tuesday, late morningWent to the IGA and left the list on the counter at home. Stood in the cereal aisle trying to remember one single thing. Came back with yogurt we already had two of.
Tuesday, close to midnightSo tired my eyes hurt and still not sleeping. Sam is beside me with the laptop open, that blue light on the ceiling. He says he is just catching up. He has been just catching up every night for two weeks.
Wednesday, 5:20Four hours, maybe four and a half. I know exactly what that will mean by two this afternoon and I am going in anyway. Coffee in the car.
Wednesday, mid shiftI said bed 12 needs her line changed, and kept walking. Her name is Mme Thibault. She showed me pictures of her grandson on Monday. I heard myself say it and I have been carrying it around all afternoon. That is not who I am at work. Or it did not used to be.
Wednesday nightHome, ate standing up at the counter, asleep before I could think about any of it. First real sleep in a while. I do not remember getting into bed.
Thursday, end of shiftTold at 18:40 that I am staying. Mandatory overtime again. I called Sam and he went quiet in the way that means he is annoyed and trying not to be, which is somehow worse than if he just said it. Cried in the supply room for about ninety seconds, washed my face, went back out on the floor.
Thursday eveningM. Bourassa's family came in around nine. His wife and his two sons. I sat with them and explained it twice and found them chairs so they were not standing in the corridor. His wife held my hand at the end and thanked me by name. I was good at that. I do not know why I am writing it down, it is just the job.
Thursday, past twoStill awake. Body is finished, head is still running the shift. His laptop is open in the other room, I can see the light under the door from here. Neither of us is saying the thing.
Friday, half past elevenSlept until 11:30 and woke up feeling worse than if I had got up at six. Whole morning gone. Everyone says catch up on your days off, but it never feels like catching up. It feels like falling behind in a different direction.
Friday afternoonWe had a real fight about a cup. One cup, on the counter, not in the dishwasher. Fifteen minutes about a cup. Obviously it was not about the cup.
Friday nightSam on the couch scrolling, the light on his face. Two more from his team going Monday, he said, the way you would read out the weather. I asked if he was worried. He said no. Neither of us said anything else about it and we watched most of a movie.
Saturday morningTook her to the park by the church. She did the slide maybe forty times and I actually watched her do it instead of being somewhere else in my head. About twenty minutes where nothing hurt. I would like to remember that this is still possible.
Saturday, before supperSnapped at her about shoes. Shoes. She went quiet and did the thing where she will not look at me. I apologized and she said it is okay Maman, which made it worse.
Sunday, late morningIt arrives with the coffee now. Not thoughts exactly, more like a weight landing, and then the counting starts. Two more days. What the assignment will be. Whether we will be short again.
Sunday afternoonStarted on Zoé's birthday. Sam said maybe we keep it small this year and I heard what was underneath it and got sharp with him for a reason he could not see. She is turning five. She should get the thing with the balloons.
Sunday, ten to threeAwake since about one. This is the worst one this week. Went out for water and his laptop was still on the table, screen dark by then, just sitting there. I stood in the kitchen for a while and then came back to bed.
Monday, before the shiftSat in the car in the parking garage with the number already up on my phone. Came very close to calling in. Did not, because I know exactly who would have to stay if I did. Went in. It was a normal evening. I just wanted it written down somewhere that I nearly did not go.
Monday, after midnightHome and wired again. Thinking about tomorrow morning. I will say it was okay, just tired, same as usual. Which is basically true. I do not really know what else there is to say about it.
One hour in the therapy room.A whole week of life outside it.
Cognitai helps the experience between sessions become understandable and clinically useful.
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