Let’s talk life here for a moment.  I have been running on the very end of coffee fumes during these last two weeks of the school year.  There are progress reports to write, report cards to make, student psychological evaluation meetings to have, a school wide intervention system to review and meaningless lessons to plan because let’s face it in special education land, new lessons can’t be started with only a few days left of the year.  I have had one or two meetings a day.  Stressed to the max and EXHAUSTED!  I actually almost lost it Thursday night.  But, then life threw me another curve ball.  I was at school getting ready for the day on Friday.  Got a text from the sister saying that dad was having chest pains and not to worry because it is nothing major.  We have been down this road many times.  Usually, I don’t worry until the doctor says, “Hey, we need to talk.”  But for some reason, it really hit me on Friday.  I almost broke down at work.  I managed to get half way through the day and was doing no good.  I was crabby with kids and short with staff.  NOT myself.  I was staring at my computer and getting nothing done.  Then I went to the principal and was like “I think I need to go.” I told her my story and she shooed me out the building. I drove the hour and a half and have been sitting in waiting rooms over the weekend.

While I was sitting in the waiting room on the cardiac floor (which happens to also be the ICU floor) this weekend a family came to the door of the ICU and called to get admitted.  They told them who they were and who they had.  The mom told the little girl that she had to stay in the waiting room because kids 12 and under aren’t allowed in.  Then she explained why she couldn’t go in.  The dad sat with the girl for a little while and then went in. (I missed what happened there because I went to see my own dad down the hall.)  When I came back, the little girl was sitting alone, watching a movie about a horse and playing on her dad’s phone.  She looked scared and alone.  I so badly wanted to go sit with her and make her feel better, but I didn’t want to come across as a creeper and scare her even more.  So I didn’t.  If that makes me a bad person, I still have yet to figure out.

As I sat in the hospital, I observed the scenes around me.  Nurses and doctors rushing here and there.  Nurses looking exhausted while they work on computers and sip coffee at the work station.  Lullabies playing overhead as babies are born.  People coming to visit.  Some looking content and some sad.  I rode up in the elevator with a little girl wearing a First Communion dress.  They were visiting someone on the 5th floor before she went to church for First Communion.  I observed the different colors to distinguish everything.  Green scrubs-nurses aides. Navy scrubs- nurses.  White coats- doctors.  Red-cardiology floor.  Blue-surgical.  Grey- Emergency unit.  I walked the halls and couldn’t help think about how so many of life’s happiest and saddest moments happen here.  Children are born.  People recover and get healthier.  People die.  This one building holds so many crucial events for human life.  I thought about what it must be like to be a doctor running through these halls.  I could never do it.  Props to them for being able to handle the emotions and exhaustion.  They can never have a bad day.  They must always be on and caring for their patients.  It takes a special person to do that.  Props to the docs.

So, this story I am writing with my friend fits perfectly into this entry.  A few days ago, my character just so happened to get into a car accident and went into a coma.  Needless to say, she is still in the coma at the hospital and underwent some prompt surgery.  So, I did manage to use this waiting around in the hospital as research.  Perfect opportunity.

Alright, I am done rambling now.  This entry is extreme babbling, but these have been my thoughts for the past few days.  You will get a better post next time.




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