Well, I finished typing the previous post - and as I got up, one of my co-workers surprised me with a visit. Amazing how God sends people to you just at the moment you need a swift kick.
We are the same age- she is a breast cancer survivor, three years and counting, and she's missing her right breast. She confirmed that my problem indeed is perimenopause - who needs doctors when you have seasoned nurses around.
There was a patient in the ICU about two weeks ago. She didn't have a name, only a number on her door, which usually means the person is involved in something criminal - domestic violence, assault - somethign where the perpetrator shouldn't be able to find them easily. I noticed her because despite the bandage to her head, she was pretty - her auburn hair amplified the bruising on her face. I wanted to post soemthign about hte experience because I kept thinking about her for days...but couldnt' think of what to say. Being a survivor of domestic violence, I assumed that was why she was here. I was right, kind of.
My co-worker told me a story about her neighbor. She belonged to an online support group that also met in person on occasion, for widows and widowers. She went to a dance with this group, accompanied by a couple of her friends. All these ladies are in their 60s. As they pulled into her driveway after the dance, her friend was shot point blank in the head. The gunman then shot her friend three times, once in the head and twice in the chest. The third friend escaped in the fray and called the police. The gunman had been chatting online with the woman, then somehow traced her IP address and found out where she lived. He followed her that night had put nails on the friends driveway to pop her tires.
She was the woman I saw in the ICU - with the auburn hair and the bruises.
I felt better, though I had bypassed the fries. Went upstairs to see a couple more patients - the last of whom was a 28 year old man - very handsome, muscular African American man - who had HIV and now diabetes and renal failure.
Yea, never mind my whining - I've got nothing to bitch about.
1 comment:
wow, just wow....i know, whenever i whine, i think about bosnia, or zimbabwe--or new orleans, for that matter; why go so far from home? tangled times we live in, where guns are more popular (and somehow more available?) than roses.
we all suffer, stace. yours may be slighter today, but you know despair too....we all have our dark holes.
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