In Praise of the Lost Hour
This past Sunday, owing to a perhaps dubious congressionally-decreed benefit, lasted just 23 hours. Magically, the hour that traditionally spans 2 and 3 a.m. did not exist. In years past, this has always added a sleep-deprived, time-crunched onus to one spring weekend. But this year, as I worked my first ever eleven-hour, 8-to-8 overnight, I realized the innate goodness of daylight savings. The prospect of a shorter graveyard shift made the whole hospital run a bit smoother. Sure our computers crashed for a couple hours in the early morning, we were all in good spirits throughout the night. At the appointed moment, our ER clerk melodramatically set his radio clock ahead 60 minutes. An overworked surgical consult smiled, albeit subtlely, at being one hour closer to finishing his shift, and thus residency. Even our surly patient transporter seemed slightly less bitter at the prospect of wheeling another patient to CT scan. And later that Sunday, as I was returning to work for yet another overnight, it was still daylight in New York.
Click here to learn more about the history of Daylight-Saving time
Post submitted by Dr Brad Shy, Intern in Emergency Medicine
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