Oh, Your Day Will Come

So, some of the charge nurses a the new job, it turns out, have been nurses for like, 2 years.  Not hating.  I started charging at about three, but there is a major difference in this particular scenario.
I was aware of the fact that I was a fucking idiot. 
Granted, it took me some time. Yes. I've been down this road before.  I didn't get up on my high horse too much, because I recognized that no matter how awesome I was, everyone still knew that I worked in possibly the shittiest ER in the city.
But oh yeah.  I remember that time.  About one and a half years in, you start remembering things and not spazzing. You start getting comfortable with drips and other complicated shit, and you start thinking "hey, I'm getting the hang of this!".
Then at about two years, they start making you precept travelers, or putting baby nurses in your pod, or ask you to join some bullshit committee , and you're like, "Oh wow I am a bonafide badass now."
Except you're actually still a fucking idiot, but you don't know it yet.
But here, apparently, they give these girls the responsibility of charge rather than some of my little ego boosting experiences.  Now the new nurses, at the height of their hubris, are in "charge" of people more experienced then they are.  In a trauma center, no less.  I can only imagine how important I would have felt.  The attitude.  OH.  One of them actually felt it necessary to tell ER BFF(who has 5 years of experience) that she needed to give the sedative prior to the paralytic while intubating a patient.  Okay, great, thanks for your sage advice, 2 yr RN. Anyway, the attitude is the worst.  They know it all, and you totally need their help.  I would get upset, but I know how it goes down.
Let me demonstrate with another graph. You guys. I love graphs.

Look.  There was once a time when I too, felt I was a badass.  It was at about two years or so. And then everyone has that experience that knocks them on their ass, and makes them realize, "Wow, I'm not actually so badass after all!" For me, it was the day when my sweet patient who I knew was sick went into cardiogenic shock and died and there was NOTHING I could do.  He was on some drip I was unfamiliar with and I felt like maybe, MAYBE if I had been a little more on the ball and a little more well versed in what he was getting, I maybe could have saved him.  Looking back, I probably couldn't have.  

But it seems like every nurse needs that sucker punch to the nuts/ovaries to take them down a couple of pegs so they realize, "Oh.  Maybe I'm not THE SHIT after all."

Point is, the clock is ticking until the humble pie is served.  I wish I was a good enough person to say I wouldn't take the least bit of pleasure in watching it unfold, but I'd be lying.   

Mostly, I'm sure I'll feel sad.  The experience that was my turning point was up there as one of the worst days of my life.  But it made me question my judgment and learn to ask questions and think twice before I decided I just knew something.  If I knew a way to get the the conclusion without the pain, I would hand it over in an instant.  Unfortunately, though, these girls will have to learn the hard way like I did.