Tuesday’s in the ER were one of our slower days, but the numbers were slowly ramping up, and we got closer to winter. Summers in Sacramento drove the homeless and 51/50s to come to the ER. Fall gave us a drop in numbers, but winter drove them back up.
I had been at this hospital for almost a year, so I still got all the crappy patients. The other nurses had started calling me “The Transient” since that seemed to be the majority of the patients I cared for.
I really wanted to be in the ICU. That’s where they had all the victims of supernatural attacks. We saw them in the ER, of course, but they didn’t stay long. When my mom was killed, I knew then that I wanted to help the people who suffered at the hands of supernaturals. People always asked me why I didn’t become a doctor. It’s simple really: doctors get all the money, but nurses do all the work. That doesn’t mean that I’m not in this for myself as well.
Most people think that nurses get into this profession because they want to help people. While that is true for some, maybe even most, the real reason is the money. At least it is in California. There’s a reason that nurses, specifically ER nurses, have one of the highest drug use rates in any profession. They aren’t getting high; they are taking uppers so they can stay awake and work as much as possible, then go blow it all on a first-class trip out of the country. Then they do it all again. The smart ones use it to pay off debt and buy a house, then do the crazy trips.
Thanks to a wonderful man I know, I was part of the second group. I did still splurge on nice things. What’s the point of working all these hours if I don’t get to enjoy the money?
After our shift huddle, I found the nurse I was relieving and took report of the patients he was passing off to me.
All supernaturals have some special ability or power that make them stand out. Elves are particularly good with magic. That didn’t stop them from being nearly wiped out. Due to their long lives, they are slow to make decisions. That’s not good in war.
While elves didn’t practice magic much anymore, they were still natural healers. The ambitious ones were drawn to the medical field. Thanks to a select few, medicine has jumped leaps and bounds in the last century.
Tamar claimed to be over 100 years old. He didn’t look a day older than 25. His face was young, his skin perfect, and if it weren’t for his ears, you wouldn’t know that he was an elf.
“The last is a John Doe. PD brought him in. They found him in a Burger King bathroom, muttering to himself. He just came in, so nothing has been done except vitals, and he was placed on 1799.”
A 1799 is a medical hold placed by a doctor. In short, for the next 24 hours, you have few rights because the doctor believes you don’t have the mental capacity to make decisions for yourself or that you want to hurt someone.
“Did you log his vitals in his chart?”
“Of course I did. He was assigned to Dr. Pechin. Now, I need to get out of here. I got a date with Shelby on the fourth floor.”
“Didn’t you have a date with Shelby, the admin from Point West, two days ago?”
“I did, and she let me hit. What’s your point?”
I just shook my head.
“Have a good night, Tay.”
“You too.”
I went to see my John Doe first.
Anyone who works as a first responder will tell you that there is no smell worse than a transient. They are telling you the truth. I could smell my patient before I was within 10 feet of his room. I felt sorry for the security officer who had to stand outside his room.
I briefly spoke with the security officer about John Doe’s behavior since he was admitted. Nothing had changed, so we went in, the officer standing on the opposite side of the bed.
He was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling and muttering. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, and I wasn’t about to get closer to listen. I tried talking to him, but he never acknowledged that I was in the room.
“I’m going to suggest the doc order him some Haldol. I doubt he’ll do it, though, since he doesn’t seem to be a danger to anyone. Let me know if anything changes.
“Will do.”
I walked out, followed by the officer.
I did my rounds on my other patients and checked the chart for John Doe. Like I thought, Dr. Pechin denied my request for Haldol.
I got a text from Alan letting me know that he and his team might be raiding a house for a small group of rogue Lycans. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to tell me stuff like that until after it was done and the information had been cleared through the bigwigs. He knew that I always worried, and not knowing made it worse.
I typed out a response and told him to be safe. I didn’t need to say that, but I didn’t know what else to say.
If you ever walk past a station where nurses can sit down and have a computer in front of them, chances are they are shopping for something. Clothes, their next vacation, or maybe a new home. If you have easy patients, you have a lot of downtime.
I was planning out Alan and my next vacation. He has never been to Disneyland, and that just isn’t okay. I was going to make sure he had the best experience ever.
I was looking at rooms in the Grand Californian when one of the girls from the lab stopped in front of me.
“Excuse me. Can you tell me who the nurse is for room 36?”
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“That’s me. What do you need, honey?”
“I was unable to get a draw on him. He won’t stop moving, and security couldn’t hold him still long enough.”
“Well, maybe now the doc will put in an order for meds. I’ll put in another request for you when he’s calmed down some. Thank you for letting me know.”
“No problem,” she responded as she walked away.
I updated the chart and got up to go make another round on my other patients. In one room, I had a nine-year-old girl with her big brother. She had a high fever, nothing too serious, but Big Brother was caring for her while their parents were out of town. He had started to worry after the Tylenol didn’t work.
“Hey, Cindy. Feeling better yet?” I asked, walking into the room.
I pulled a stool over as I sat down beside her. She was a cute little thing.
Alan and I had often talked about having kids. Well, talked, and he listened. He was adamant that we needed to be debt-free first. Good thing for me, I was only 25.
“She said that her tummy was hurting.” Big Brother said.
“Poor thing. Do you feel like you’re going to throw up or like you need to go number two?”
“Like I’m going to throw up.” came her little voice in response.
“Well, I can give you something to help with that.”
The cow was within arms reach, so I pulled it over to me. I opened her chart and put in an order for the equivalent of Pepto.
“Big brother, it looks like Doctor Logan is going to discharge her. Her blood work came back normal. She probably just has the flu. We’ll send you home with some meds for her, and she should be good in a few days. I’ll be right back.”
I left the room and went back to the nurse's station. I grabbed a few candies for her and put them in my pocket. I was stopped by another nurse as I was just about to enter Cindy’s room.
Dorothy was maybe two years older than me. Given her name, she was an easy target for jokes. Between The Wizard of Oz and Golden Girls, all of the jokes had been made. I thought Dorothy was a beautiful name; most of us did. It’s just that you rarely hear that name for someone under 50.
We chatted for a minute about a patient she had and how rude his wife had been. Before she could get deep in the story, I excused myself so I could discharge little Cindy.
“All right, Cindy. The doctor said you can go home now. Your Big Brother is going to get you some medicine, and you’ll be all better in a few days.”
“Okay.” She sounded sad.
“What’s the matter, honey? Don’t you want to go home?”
She didn’t say anything, just a barely noticeable shake of her head.
“Why not?” I asked, leaning over her as I sat on the side of her bed.
“If I go home, I won’t get better. Mommy says that you have to go to the hospital to get better.”
Big Brother rolled his eyes, but I ignored him.
“You don’t have to stay at the hospital to get better, honey. You are going to medicine that will help you get better at home. You don’t want to stay in this cold place where everyone is sick. There’s not even a TV in here. That would be so boring, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she admitted
“Alright. Here, I got you a little something for being my favorite patient.”
I handed her the candies and heard Big Brother groan a little.
“I got you some, too, for being a good brother.”
“Can I have your number instead?”
“Oh, that was real smooth, kid,” my response dripping with sarcasm.
“I give you an A for boldness but a D for originality. Keep practicing on the girls your own age. Now, when you’re all packed up, follow the yellow line on the ground, and it will lead you to the discharge window. Her meds should be ready by the time you’re done. The lady in discharge can tell you how to get to the pharmacy from there. Bye, Cindy. I hope you feel better soon.”
“Bye, nurse Ramos.”
I was walking back to the nurse’s station when I heard a voice from down the hall.
“Code Grey room 36!”
One of the worst things you can hear when working in a hospital is Code Grey. That is the call that brings security swarming in because someone is probably losing their shit and trying to hurt themselves or others.
I rushed down the hall, text forgotten. As I ran into the room, I saw three security officers attempting to hold down my patient. He was flopping around on the bed, screaming in a different language.
I ran out of the room to grab restraints. I returned to find two more security had arrived and an ED Tech. The tech and I put on the restraints and tightened them as much as possible. John Doe was still trying to flop around.
I stepped out again and grabbed the Haldol and a syringe. I went back to his room as quickly as I could.
“Okay, I need you guys to hold him down.”
“What do you think we’re doing?” One of them snapped back.
“He’s moving too much; hold him tighter.”
The officers did as I asked. Two on his left side with me, one holding down his forearm and the other pressing down on his shoulder. The rest were securing the other limbs.
We finally got all of the restraints on and left him there to thrash around until the meds kicked. I stayed in the room with two of the security officers just to make sure he didn’t hurt himself.
After about 20 minutes, he finally calmed down. He got completely quiet for a moment, and then I heard him speak.
“Abandon all hope ye who enter here.”
“The hell does that mean?” Carey questioned from the doorway.
Carey was the Charge Nurse on my shift. She wasn’t actually a Charge Nurse; she just filled in sometimes when there was a call-out. She was also a Banshee, which made working with her in the ER a headache waiting to happen. I assumed she had heard the Code Grey called over the speakers in the ED.
“I doubt it means anything. He’s been muttering since before he came in.” I replied.
“Hmmm.. Well, I’m here to relieve you for your lunch. We’re short-staffed staffed, and if you don’t go now, you’re not going. Oh, and your dad is here.”
“What’s he doing here?” I thought out loud.
“How should I know? If you don’t want to go see him, I will. I’ve always wanted to get pounded at work.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
The officers did their best to hide their laughter. Carey was known for being a walking-talking sexual harassment case. I still don’t know how that woman had a job.
One of the officers spoke up.
“You mean to tell us that you’ve never had sex at work?”
“I said get pounded. There’s a difference, and I'm pretty sure that old man is up to the task.”
She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, fantasizing about my father.
“Okay, you really need to keep my father out of your head. He might catch something.”
“Rude!” she snapped back with a laugh.
I gave her a pass down and went to find my dad.
At least twice a week, he and I made sure to have a meal together. I did it to check in on him and make sure he was taking care of himself. He was healthy for a man his age, but that was only the physical. I’m not sure he ever got over my mom’s death. I know I didn’t, but I have Alan.
“Hello, Mouse.” He greeted me.
I walked up and hugged him.