Bobka
"Give me caffee, GIVE ME CAFFEE!!"
At the other end of the hall one of the nurse's shook her head and flipped her chart closed. Coming around from behind the desk she started down the hall, passing the nurses aide emerging from room 122 who was struggling under a load of dirty sheets. Glancing back over her shoulder Kathy gave the aide a look that said, 'follow me, she's your patient'.
Brenda blew at a flyaway strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail and dropped the sheets in a soggy pile against the wall of the hallway. Running her hands down a sorta still white uniform, she hurried down the hall, trying to catch up with Kathy. Her nursing shoes were silent on the thin gray carpeting. Brenda loved those shoes. And the uniform. She had felt so professional walking to work in the cool autumn morning dressed so. Now, after 5 hours of hauling bodies from bed to bath and back, the uniform clung in a clammy sweat and was smeared here and there with various bodily fluids. But the shoes, still snow white, afforded her the unexplainable comfort of silence.
Swinging onto the tile floor of a sparse room Kathy approached the old woman laying in a pool of late afternoon sunlight. She flipped the silver bedrail down in one quick motion. It seemed that no matter what Kathy touched, she flipped it. Brenda arrived just as the nurse turned Bobka on her side and checked a bed sore that looked like it might eat it's way to the other hip, straight through the middle of her body. The whole while the old woman yelled in a thick Slavic accent, "Give me caffee, GIVE ME CAFFEE!!"
Brenda folded her arms and tipped her head, watching as Kathy washed and dressed the sore, before she flipped the bedrail back up into place.
"I know this is your first week, but by next you'll be resposible to clean that and dress her fully. Think you have the hang of it from watching so far?"
Brenda stood upright and shook her head.
"OK, well, bring her some coffee and you can finish up the sheets when you're done".
With that, Kathy was gone. A small breeze swirled, left behind as an attestment of her sure efficiency. Kathy wasn't a bad nurse. She was just a detached one. Maybe one needed to be in a place where humanity lay or sat, minus dignity, wrapped in swaddling diapers. Brenda left Bobka long enough to fetch a cup of heavily sugared coffee from the small kitchen just off the lounge. Reentering she knew that the old woman lying in a fetal position could not hear her, which probably explained the incessant yelling. Bobka could neither hear, nor see, but she surely could yell and Lord, how she did love her coffee.
Brenda placed the steaming cup on the hospital tray at the side of the bed and slipped the bedrail aside. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, she reached under the old woman and pulled her into a quasi sitting position, her body curled and bent from years and years of labor and then rest.
At the other end of the hall one of the nurse's shook her head and flipped her chart closed. Coming around from behind the desk she started down the hall, passing the nurses aide emerging from room 122 who was struggling under a load of dirty sheets. Glancing back over her shoulder Kathy gave the aide a look that said, 'follow me, she's your patient'.
Brenda blew at a flyaway strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail and dropped the sheets in a soggy pile against the wall of the hallway. Running her hands down a sorta still white uniform, she hurried down the hall, trying to catch up with Kathy. Her nursing shoes were silent on the thin gray carpeting. Brenda loved those shoes. And the uniform. She had felt so professional walking to work in the cool autumn morning dressed so. Now, after 5 hours of hauling bodies from bed to bath and back, the uniform clung in a clammy sweat and was smeared here and there with various bodily fluids. But the shoes, still snow white, afforded her the unexplainable comfort of silence.
Swinging onto the tile floor of a sparse room Kathy approached the old woman laying in a pool of late afternoon sunlight. She flipped the silver bedrail down in one quick motion. It seemed that no matter what Kathy touched, she flipped it. Brenda arrived just as the nurse turned Bobka on her side and checked a bed sore that looked like it might eat it's way to the other hip, straight through the middle of her body. The whole while the old woman yelled in a thick Slavic accent, "Give me caffee, GIVE ME CAFFEE!!"
Brenda folded her arms and tipped her head, watching as Kathy washed and dressed the sore, before she flipped the bedrail back up into place.
"I know this is your first week, but by next you'll be resposible to clean that and dress her fully. Think you have the hang of it from watching so far?"
Brenda stood upright and shook her head.
"OK, well, bring her some coffee and you can finish up the sheets when you're done".
With that, Kathy was gone. A small breeze swirled, left behind as an attestment of her sure efficiency. Kathy wasn't a bad nurse. She was just a detached one. Maybe one needed to be in a place where humanity lay or sat, minus dignity, wrapped in swaddling diapers. Brenda left Bobka long enough to fetch a cup of heavily sugared coffee from the small kitchen just off the lounge. Reentering she knew that the old woman lying in a fetal position could not hear her, which probably explained the incessant yelling. Bobka could neither hear, nor see, but she surely could yell and Lord, how she did love her coffee.
Brenda placed the steaming cup on the hospital tray at the side of the bed and slipped the bedrail aside. Sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, she reached under the old woman and pulled her into a quasi sitting position, her body curled and bent from years and years of labor and then rest.
posted by BlackVelvetLace at 9:23 PM
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