Overnights in the Emergency Department

During the week I am a classic stay at home mom. On fridays I work third shift. The family goes to bed, shortly after I drive to the hospital. Grab a trauma pager. Run until morning.

Imagine any heading you would read in a city's newspaper. "Teen Mom Pregnant by Rape". "Man Assaulted While Sleeping in His Own Home". "Child Hit by Car in Parking Lot, Doesn't Make It". Those are my patients, them and their families. Assessing- who are these people. What happened. Could this have been prevented. What are the living conditions. What are the social factors contributing to this incident. Do you know who did this to you? How long have you been using? Can I bring you a tissue. A coffee. A blanket. I'm so sorry for your loss.

The content is solemn but it doesn't break me. I'm a believer, I believe in the hope of the Resurrected One. But the brevity of my task threatens to unravel me. Capturing every detail for a report to be given to the homicide detective, the child protective service, the floor nurse for follow-up. I'm not good at those details. I'm naturally interested in the big picture, their stories fascinate me. I have no patience for endless intricate details, are you surprised?

I'm also too tired to pry, "exactly what nursing homes have you already been to", when a heroin addict is about to be jumped in the hallway. Yes, it's exhausting. When I think about what time it is, I want to stab my eyeballs out. Then again, I see what it looks like when people actually do that; it's not pretty.

I don't know anything about medicine, but I'm not there to save lives, or change them. I just make an Emergency Department visit 2% more bearable. Picture CSI meets Mother Teresa- that's my job. I feel that my work is bizarre, and almost too abstract to capture here. If I can clarify anything, please let me know. Eventually morning comes. I do what every other mom does- goes home, makes lunch, plays puppets, catches a nap. Don't drink and drive, people. Don't break into houses, you will get shot. Don't hang out the 6th story window. Don't beat your girlfriend- she will break your skull. But if you do, and it happens to be on a friday night in Cleveland, rest assured I'll serve you some coffee.