Friday, August 27, 2010

decisions, decisions

Stepping out the doors, I appreciatively breathe in the clean, fresh air, and glance around me, hugging myself, feeling both lucky, and apprehensive. Its early. I get to go home, and sleep. But, one more patient admitted to my floor brings me back. Will I go home and go to bed? Or stay awake, waiting for that intrusive phone call that recalls me back to the florescent world I just left.

I make my way through the parking lot, noticing the lack of cars, and, more importantly, the lack of ambulances. No ambulance is a good sign. I work in the ICU. Our patients are usually delivered via ambulance. Sometimes they surprise me, crazy people driving through my town having crushing chest pain, or stroke symptoms. I always lecture them. I don't want them behind the wheel, impaired like that!
Jumping in my jeep, I choose to leave the radio off, to enjoy the quiet of this summer night. The temperature has dipped, thankfully. The air conditioner stays off. Smiling, I point Roxie towards home, and off we go.
My brain is still clicking with activity. I did not expect to go home early. But, we sent one fortunate soul home with his wife, sent one to another hospital, and transferred one to another floor. They didn't need so many nurses, and I was the chosen one. The one who volunteered. Happily.
Eight short minutes later, I roll up the driveway, and appreciate the beautiful sight of home. I hurry past the front of the house, not wanting to shine my lights into the front windows. Our bedroom is in the front, and MM has to get up for work in a few, short hours. I park in my customary spot, and open the door. Three shapes materialize at the back door. Meowing, plaintively, thinking that I will be fooled, and give them more of the canned food they adore. I laugh, softly, ruffle a few heads, and step over them, and into the door, into my welcoming kitchen. Sighing, I know I want to go lay down, and sleep. Yet my mind echoes with the fact that it just takes ONE PERSON, needing care, and I will reverse my route. Its what I do.
I walk through the darkness, hoping no one moved anything while I was gone, knowing they didn't. They never do. The iced tea I had causes me to head for the bathroom, where I blind myself with light, and see my night gown, hanging on its hook. Unable to resist, I pull my uniform off. The decision is made, it really has been. I am going to spin the wheel, take my chances.
Quickly, now, so as not to lose any time, I finish my ablutions, and stealthily make my way into the bedroom, around its mess (it is a mess) and to my bed. I have phone in hand, and use it, occasionally, to shine light, so I can see. I find MM in the middle of the bed, snoring lightly. He is deep into dream land. I remember one task I wanted to do, and accomplish it easily, using my phone. (What did I ever do, before the advent of my iPhone?). I put it down, make sure the house phone is easily within reach, mutter a prayer (please, don't ring!), and drift down, into bed, gently nudging MM out of my spot. Softly, I kiss him, and roll over, grateful for my fortune. I say a better prayer then please don't ring, and work on quieting my mind, so that I can sleep.
MM eventually realizes I am home, I know this because suddenly, there are arms around me, pulling me into a spooning embrace. Kisses land on my shoulder, then, just as suddenly, he is gone, again. Blame the night time bladder.
"how did you escape early?" he asks a few moments later as he shuffles back to the bed, and is asleep before I can give him a full answer, like I knew he'd be. MM can fall asleep in mere seconds. Me? At least 20 minutes. Sometimes more.
Sighing, I quiet my mind, again, and finally, blissfully, fall to sleep.
The phone, blessedly, stays silent. My town stayed safe, no one else falling ill enough to require the services of a tired ICU nurse. Good for them, Good for me.


sybil law said...

Aaahhh... so glad you got to stay home and sleep. Even some spooning time - saweeet!

Daryl said...

Thank you for being who you are and for the others of you out there ... xoxo