Bedtime Stories and Songs

Even though I struggled greatly trying to think up an introduction for this post (when I considered saying something about June Cleaver, I gave up), my real life introduction to this, my last night shift (for now), was quite nice. I was treated to a lovely dinner from our favorite (and only) gas station. One of the doctors went to pick up food after evening report and asked if I had any requests. Frozen yogurt, of course. It makes me think of the beach. Probably because it tastes like sunscreen. When he said, "This is what you want for your dinner?" I said I wasn't sure how that was any worse than the time we ate it for breakfast. So I got frozen yogurt and some sort of something else. It was spicy and I think it was red meat. I'm not sure that I've eaten red meat this year, so it was delicious. 

It's quiet in our ETC these days. Quiet in regards to patient numbers, not necessarily in relation to the events. As I typed that sentence, our power went out. Hopefully that doesn't cause our young suspect patient to stir. I remember babysitting a whole slew of children who found it impossible to stay in their beds all night after I turned out the lights and shut the bedroom door. Universal phenomenon. But when this patient gets up, we can't actually get to her, and we have to make sure she stays contained within the fences and ropes. Yelling through the donning area, "Go lay down, we'll see you in the morning!" doesn't have quite the same therapeutic effect as tucking a kid back in. During med rounds, the patient kept telling one of my nurses, "Auntie, please, come sleep beside me."

Our only confirmed patient, on the other hand, is resting quite comfortably. Just waiting for her second negative result to come back. Then our confirmed ward will be empty. It would appear that ebola is finally slowing down. Schools are opening. Lockdowns are cancelled. We will probably continue to have patients cycle through our suspect ward for a while. Even though I will be back here in a month (there it is!), I am expecting that this will be my last time with confirmed patients. Maybe in PPE! I might actually have to relearn how to have good bedside manner. Right now no one can tell if I'm gagging because it is too early in the morning for the smells coming from my patient or if I'm laughing really, really hard because a patient just peed in my coworker's face while I chased him so I could hang onto the IV we hadn't yet taped down to his arm. (Don't worry, I paid for all the laughter later when I couldn't properly oxygenate myself and I was crouching in the doffing area sucking my mask into my mouth while trying to get a breath. My doffer just shook his head, "Too long. You spend too much time inside today." Even though I hadn't, I didn't argue that time. Sometimes I fight with them when I'm hungry. Then a doctor gives me his protein bar. Oops. But I digress. "Yes, whatever you say, just get me to the part where I get to take all this stuff off my face.")

Since I embarked on this rabbit trail, I might as well share one of my favorite PPE stories. A friend and I were doing meds late one night, and our patient was sleeping while her liter of fluid begrudgingly infused. Rather than disturb her with our talking, we went out the back of the tent to the little patio area and sat down. It turned into one of those moments where you realize that what you've come to think of as normal is actually pretty absurd. I am sitting here having a serious conversation with you, and you look like a duck wearing goggles.

Normal or absurd, it has been a privilege to share in this experience. I don't know exactly what my job will look like when I come back in a few weeks, but that's part of the adventure I guess. In the meantime, my next adventure is quarantine. I imagine it will be exciting for six hours or so. Be nice to me or I will sneak into your house and lick all your spoons. Just kidding...

Someone tell Brad and Carrie I'm opening my own chapter of the "Feisty Little Nurses Association. "