By the randomness of scheduling, I had nearly a week off after the heavy shift I described in my prior post. That wasn't planned but it was probably good for my state of mind..
When I came back to work, I dropped back into the groove like nothing had happened. I didn't think about my patient who had died, until halfway through the shift, when I noticed I hadn't thought about him. I suppose this is normal.
Some small, overanalyzing part of my brain that wants to feel bad about not feeling bad enough. I'm ignoring that. Death is part of the job, and if I weren't able to get over it when it happens, I probably couldn't be a very good nurse.