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Survive the Night Shift
by Megan Malugani
Monster Contributing Writer

Healthcare isn’t a 9-to-5 job. It’s an around-the-clock profession, and working evening or night hours is a way of life for many health professionals. Such shifts can take a physical and emotional toll on workers, experts say, but there are ways to prevent the damage. Here are suggestions for surviving — and even thriving — despite a draining schedule.

Understand You’re Not Alone

About 26 percent of the Canadian workforce regularly works a shift where the majority of their hours are between 4 p.m. and 8 a.m., says Janie O’Connor, MEd, president of Interface. “Shiftworkers need to relate to that demographic,” she says. “They need to accept their lifestyle as it is and refrain from acting like a day worker when they’re not.”

Protect Your Sleep

Shiftworkers must protect their daytime sleep at all costs, O’Connor says. “Do not respond to any other calls on your time, like the telephone, the doorbell or a relative who asks you to do something because she thinks you’re ’just napping.’” Sleep deprivation leads to chronic fatigue, she says. Shiftworkers must constantly remind family and friends that sleep is a priority during the day.

Snooze on the Job

Napping is an effective “fatigue counter-measure” for people who aren’t able to get enough sleep in one uninterrupted stretch, says Ed Coburn, publisher of Working Nights newsletter and a consultant at Circadian Technologies Inc. A nap lasting from 15 to 25 minutes will have a significant impact on a worker’s alertness, he says. The challenge: finding a quiet, comfortable, dimly lit place to catch those Zs during a break.

Take Care of Your Body

Lots of workers use caffeine or sugar as pick-me-ups, Coburn says. Caffeine is an effective fatigue counter-measure, but it takes 20 to 35 minutes to improve a person’s alertness, and its effect may then last seven hours or more, he says. Some workers get hyped on caffeine and then go home and sedate themselves with a few beers to help them fall asleep. “Alcohol can help people fall asleep, but it will interfere with the quality of sleep,” He says, adding that the effects of the alcohol wear off before the caffeine, and the caffeine will further interfere with sleep quality.

Sugar isn’t a long-term answer to fatigue, either, Coburn says. “A Snickers can give you added energy but you burn through it very quickly,” he says. “After the initial sugar high, your energy level drops below the level at which you started.” It’s easy to overdo it with either sugar or coffee. “If you drink too much coffee, you can get very jittery, and if you eat too many candy bars, you end up gaining a lot of weight.”

Don’t Isolate Yourself

Shiftworkers often tell O’Connor that they feel “out of the loop” with what’s going on in their families’ and friends’ lives. “It’s very much a day-oriented society,” she says. Shiftworkers must work extra hard to maintain relationships when their schedules don’t match the schedules of their loved ones. Constant communication is essential even if it’s not face-to-face, Coburn says. Beepers and cell phones help family members know “you’re not out of touch.” Families can keep bulletin boards at home where parents and kids post notes and responses. And couples can plan dates at the end of long work stretches. “It’s important to have something to look forward to,” Coburn says.

The light trails by my side as the rear view flashes red from the distant cars in the counter flow. My hands tremble in the cold night air breathing through my window. My back aches from a long day in school, my eyes tear from fatigue and my feet lack the strength to maneuver as quickly as they did earlier that morning. I am tired, but I am heading home.

It’s 2 a.m., and the roads are clear. There are few cars speeding by, perhaps trying their best to reach home soon to get their rest. Rest, something I very much needed. I simply put the shifter into fourth and cruised along. No need to hurry, I was already late. I was heading home.

I enter the exit to Libis, the tunnel hums from the sound of my engine. Noisy as it may seem, it’s relaxing. The droning sound was like a massage on the back of my neck. I exit the tunnel and enter the flyover; sadly it was brighter inside the tunnel. I put on my high beams and cruised along. No worries, I am heading home.

As I reach the foot of the flyover I sense something on my right side. I look: nothing but a dark cement railing moving faster and faster and lights from the houses behind gleaming in the dark, moonless night, people are asleep, they are already home.

I look back on the road. There’s a streak of black, flesh and silver. A man riding his bike, no, not away, not far from me, he’s crossing the road right in between the beams of my headlights. I honk, I scream. I step on the brakes, I pray.

The sound is horrible. At first the fragile shattering of a metal frame, then the terrible sound of a flesh-and-blood body colliding with the glass windshield and metal roof. It sounds like a piece of meat landing on the floor, only now the floor’s doing 80 kph.

I stop. He has flown seven meters into the pavement.

Trauma

I have road trauma. I used to be able to handle all kinds of things; I used to be an adrenaline junkie, but now I am but a fearful child. I get frightened riding in the front seat of a car, especially when I am a passenger. I feel helpless with no control over the car. I hate that, having no control. I cannot even bear to look at the road when there are cars ahead, I always have to ride behind the driver so I could try to feel safe as I do not see what is up ahead.
And even when it is I driving, I am afraid. I cannot reach past 80 kph; near it my hands start to shake and I get chills. Sweat envelopes the steering wheel and shift knob as I uncontrollably perspire, until I reach a safe speed of 60 kph.

I feel my mind play tricks on me; I have become paranoid while driving and being driven. It is sickening, especially for someone who used to be so into cars. I talk and breathe automotive theory and modification. Now I just watch cars on the sidelines reminiscing how it felt like whenever I was behind the wheel of a sports car, like a war veteran telling tales of his battles and battle scars. My scars though are all beneath my skin.

Life only allows us a certain number of things we can take for granted; go beyond that, you get a hard-hitting realization, oftentimes a painful one. Unfortunately my realization didn’t hurt me but someone else. I am sorry.

I used to take driving and being able to ride a car for granted, always thinking that it was my right. It wasn’t my right; it’s not anyone’s. It’s a privilege and to be able to do so we must work for it and obey certain rules. I broke the simplest of them, keep your eyes on the road.

This is why road safety is such an important factor in society. Many people take driving on the road for granted. Mine almost cost two lives that night, the biker and mine, as I was charged for attempted manslaughter (it was later dropped as we settled and we agreed to take care of the man’s hospital bills and salary for the months he was unable to work).

Road safety isn’t only for the motorists, but also for your passengers and everybody else outside your car. Their lives are in your hands. So I suggest to keep your eyes on the road, slow down and look both ways, simple guidelines yet many seem to forget and not follow.

The light trails by my side as the rear view flashes red from the distant cars in the counter flow. My hands tremble in the cold night air breathing through my window. My back aches from a long day in school, my eyes tear from fatigue and my feet lack the strength to maneuver as quickly as they did earlier that morning. I am tired, but I am heading home.

It’s 2 a.m., and the roads are clear. There are few cars speeding by, perhaps trying their best to reach home soon to get their rest. Rest, something I very much needed. I simply put the shifter into fourth and cruised along. No need to hurry, I was already late. I was heading home.

I enter the exit to Libis, the tunnel hums from the sound of my engine. Noisy as it may seem, it’s relaxing. The droning sound was like a massage on the back of my neck. I exit the tunnel and enter the flyover; sadly it was brighter inside the tunnel. I put on my high beams and cruised along. No worries, I am heading home.

As I reach the foot of the flyover I sense something on my right side. I look: nothing but a dark cement railing moving faster and faster and lights from the houses behind gleaming in the dark, moonless night, people are asleep, they are already home.

I look back on the road. There’s a streak of black, flesh and silver. A man riding his bike, no, not away, not far from me, he’s crossing the road right in between the beams of my headlights. I honk, I scream. I step on the brakes, I pray.

The sound is horrible. At first the fragile shattering of a metal frame, then the terrible sound of a flesh-and-blood body colliding with the glass windshield and metal roof. It sounds like a piece of meat landing on the floor, only now the floor’s doing 80 kph.

I stop. He has flown seven meters into the pavement.

Trauma

I have road trauma. I used to be able to handle all kinds of things; I used to be an adrenaline junkie, but now I am but a fearful child. I get frightened riding in the front seat of a car, especially when I am a passenger. I feel helpless with no control over the car. I hate that, having no control. I cannot even bear to look at the road when there are cars ahead, I always have to ride behind the driver so I could try to feel safe as I do not see what is up ahead.
And even when it is I driving, I am afraid. I cannot reach past 80 kph; near it my hands start to shake and I get chills. Sweat envelopes the steering wheel and shift knob as I uncontrollably perspire, until I reach a safe speed of 60 kph.

I feel my mind play tricks on me; I have become paranoid while driving and being driven. It is sickening, especially for someone who used to be so into cars. I talk and breathe automotive theory and modification. Now I just watch cars on the sidelines reminiscing how it felt like whenever I was behind the wheel of a sports car, like a war veteran telling tales of his battles and battle scars. My scars though are all beneath my skin.

Life only allows us a certain number of things we can take for granted; go beyond that, you get a hard-hitting realization, oftentimes a painful one. Unfortunately my realization didn’t hurt me but someone else. I am sorry.

I used to take driving and being able to ride a car for granted, always thinking that it was my right. It wasn’t my right; it’s not anyone’s. It’s a privilege and to be able to do so we must work for it and obey certain rules. I broke the simplest of them, keep your eyes on the road.

This is why road safety is such an important factor in society. Many people take driving on the road for granted. Mine almost cost two lives that night, the biker and mine, as I was charged for attempted manslaughter (it was later dropped as we settled and we agreed to take care of the man’s hospital bills and salary for the months he was unable to work).

Road safety isn’t only for the motorists, but also for your passengers and everybody else outside your car. Their lives are in your hands. So I suggest to keep your eyes on the road, slow down and look both ways, simple guidelines yet many seem to forget and not follow.