My body is rigid, my mind is numb as I come too after a few hours of disrupted sleep and try to make some sense of my dream.  A blurred reflection of reality… my reality.

A war-zone of bloody carnage in a civilian world.  A multitude of casualties.  I have seen all there is to see. Dismembered limbs, puncture wounds, bullet wounds, horrific burns and fatalities. Children too.

child in A&EIt’s been a brutal few months, but I cannot allow a hint of self-doubt to slip through a chink in my steely mental armour.  The passion and drive I have for what I do will never waiver

I am the paradigm of an A&E nurse. I am the one that is chosen but would volunteer to shepherd young nurses through their first few days and weeks in A&E.

I am bombproof; unflappable. Nothing fazes me anymore.

The red phone rings and the words trauma in 10, fuels my fire. The opportunity to save precious lives.  It is what I was born to do. I expect the worst possible scenario and deal with it as part of a team. We are all trained to save lives.

I am always calm and composed in extreme circumstances.  I keep my cool when the Saturday night drunks are wheeled through the door, hurling verbal abuse.  I am there for the patient, whatever the circumstances.  The traumatised, the terrified, the broken and the bleeding, some whose lives will never be the same again.

I comfort, calm and hold their hands when, for whatever reason, their loved ones can’t be there.

A&E is my life and my shift starts again in an hour.

My brain overrides any hint of self-doubt and negativity.

My body stirs.

This is what I do.  I save lives.  And today is no different from any other.