Reality Just the Same

In spite of the fact I'd slept just enough hours and had slept well, yesterday's workday was one filled with a less than stellar round of accomplishment. I couldn't keep my eyes open. It was the sort of day where you felt like putting your head down on the desk at every opportunity and not caring if your co-workers saw you drool on the counter.

My trainer of the day was almost as bad as I was. In fact, we were both gritting our teeth as we worked around the babies - she kept butting in, assuming I'd not done a proper heelstick, and I'm thinking, "Sheesh! Just leave me alone and observe!" We were politely annoyed with each other.

It took me most of the day to figure out why I was so "blah". I was fine when I went into work, and within minutes started feeling rubber-legged and worn out.

I wish I could tell you why. If the morning newspaper has any news items that apply, I'll add a note later. But, I can tell you what.

When I headed to the CCL to punch in and grab my lab coat, there were about 30 people milling in the hallway just outside the door. Clustered in groups, they were talking quietly, the look of worry written plainly across their faces. They were standing outside the SICU waiting room. The door to the waiting room was closed; since this was highly irregular, I thought perhaps someone had accidentally locked everyone out, and were waiting for Security to come open the door for them.

I headed upstairs to the NICU and began my day, taking time to yawn and stretch constantly. I even took my break early, escaping to the little coffee place a couple of pavilions over, hoping the coffee would jolt my system.

Because NICU is a secure area, I have to follow a particular route to get back to it. There's only one way in and one way out of that area. I had to pass by that waiting room again in order to get to the elevator that would take me there.

Yeah, yeah, I could have taken the stairs. I try to avoid going UP staircases unless I'm with someone who is up-to-date on their CPR training. Yeah, yeah, I know...I need to work out more overall and work out less with the fork. Life's tough sometimes.;)

The door was open to the waiting room, but there were still people milling in and out. Weird.

I dragged through the rest of the day. My trainer took her lunch break far later than usual. The person who replaced her during lunch told me that CCL had been tremendously busy.

Apparently ETC had been deluged with three major traumas within minutes of each other. It was so bad - whatever it was - that ETC had called SICU and they were triaging as many people as they could, and moving the least seriously ill to other floors to handle the trauma cases coming in.

Blood bank processed out around 60 units of blood products yesterday. Of course part were for regularly scheduled surgery purposes, but the bulk was for the trauma cases.

I knew what was wrong then. I was "absorbing" all that sadness and angst from the family and friends waiting for news. My trainer was doing the same thing. I've always been empathic that way. I knew I'd be okay once I left the hospital if that was the case.

When I left to punch out, I had to once again pass all those people. This time several groups were clutching each other, sobbing, and in the snippets of conversation I heard, were words of those who were preparing to lose loved ones.

It broke my heart. I wanted to stop and gather them up in my arms and do what I could to comfort them. But, I simply walked past them, heading on with my day, leaving them to their grieving.

I drove home with the Jeep windows open, letting the air cleanse my spirit.

I thought hard about my job. I thought about death. I knew TW wouldn't be available and I almost wrote to Ambulance Driver to ask if I could whine at him.

Death is no stranger to me. Doesn't mean I'm best friends with it, but it's part of that great circle of Life.

I just don't run into it in tremendous quantities like I did yesterday. I wondered how AD, TW, and others work that close to death each and every day and keep it from getting them down.

My brushes with death are generally not...unexpected. I usually can see it coming, because a person has been ill, closing out their life chapters in some neat and tidy package. In some ways I expect the NICU babies that will die to do so in some sort of orderly and expected fashion as well. And, I also know that I can expect the unexpected as well. Some of the Warrior Babies will take an unexpected turn for the worse and be gone in little or no time, leaving us wondering what we might have done differently.

I've figured out to remember when I'm not on top of my game to look around and see what extenuating circumstances might be dragging me down. But, I'm still curious about what others do to cope with death when it's touching them directly.

Note: Part of the trauma cases brought in were the result of a horrible car accident. Both drivers were killed, and four passengers were airlifted from their local hospital to BHTS.