Elle

Museums of Broken Relationships

February 28, 2021 Elle Wanderlust

2018 Michelle here: This museum I found in Zagreb, Croatia is perhaps one of the more interesting museums I’ve ever been in [The Sex Museum in Naples is another]. While Zagreb is no uber charming city, this museum had me enthralled. The end of a relationship is always a trying time for everyone involved even if it’s just a ‘whew, I dodged that bullet’ thought. But I’ve never thought of putting my relationship detritus in a museum for other to look at. Let this be a reminder that atypical museums can be some of the more educational/informative/pleasurable.

A break-up is like a broken mirror: it’s better to leave it alone than to hurt yourself picking up the pieces.

His name was Michael. Today is his birthday. I shouldn’t remember that, but I do. When we met he was 32, and I was 24. We met at work. I loved his sense of humour and he loved my adventurous spirit. We were friends first. Nearly a year, before anything more than friendly happened. But as is often the case between men and women, something did happen. I practically dared him to kiss me, and when he did, it was as if time stood still. July 19, 2004 …after lunch. The kiss lasted exactly 42 seconds. I know because I had a digital atomic clock on the wall in my office. The kiss touched every neuron in my body, and for the first time in my life, I felt alive.

I named him “Nobody” and he called me “Girl. ” If people asked me who I was dating, and they did because people love to meddle in the affairs of others, I’d say “Nobody.” If people asked him who he was seeing, he’d say “Just some girl.” It was our secret, and it was exciting.

We carried on our secret affair for 18 months –until I moved away… co-workers weren’t supposed to date. And even after moving to a different state, the thought of him was like a drug. We were like addicts addicted to each other; couldn’t stay away, yet couldn’t get enough.

The first step in recovering from an addiction is admitting that there is a problem, and oh boy, there was. Michael was as strong as any drug I’d ever encountered, and willpower alone wasn’t enough to make me quit him. Over time I came to rely on a power greater than myself and contact with Michael became more and more sparse. Withdrawal is a painful master. There was physical pain. There was emotional pain. There were tears.

There were no stuffed worms. No legs were broken in this break-up.

The last conversation I had with him was right before I left for Moscow. He said “you always did want to go places.” and I said “I will always love you, but this will be the last time I tell you that.” And I haven’t had contact with him since. After returning from Moscow, I wanted to call him. I wanted to tell him all the amazing adventures I had. Instead, I got a cat. I named her Lily. She was a sweet cat.

Lily helped me heal.

I still have a post card he gave me. And ticket stubs for various events. And a necklace. And various little notes. What can I say, I’m a sentimental soul.

I knew before I went to Zagreb that I wanted to go to the museum of broken relationships. I find it fascinating to see what people keep as mementos from relationships. Not every relationship ends on a sour note. Some have other obstacles that time just could not overcome. Some just aren’t meant to be. Some exist solely to prepare you for the future. Michael was not my first boyfriend, but he was my first love, and without that relationship, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

I’ve held on to the mementos of the relationship with Michael for 15 years, and karma, good energy, and such being what it is, it’s time to release that energy into the universe. Good bye Michael.

PS...I have a slight confession to make. One time I was dating this guy. His name was James. Now I knew that the relationship with James was never going to be long-term, but he was ummm, fun, and I had recently broken up with a cheating bastard I caught with another woman. I made James brownies for his birthday. I left them on the kitchen table with a ‘Happy Birthday’ note. I came over the next day to find everything in the trash. I was pissed to say the least. Livid. Irate. Incensed. A seething cauldron of raging fumes; you get the idea. He was being such an ass. I went to the local World Market, bought a bottle of cheap $7 Il Bastardo wine, and switched it out for his fancy $200 bottle of French Bordeaux. My friend and I drank the rich, velvet wine while sitting in her hot tub cursing all the shallow men in the world. I still feel no shame in taking Il Bastardo’s prized bottle of red wine.

In retrospect, the Il Bastardo was still probably pretty good. After all it comes from Tuscany and is a Sangiovese so probably still good. I really would have like to have smashed Il Bastardo over the bastard’s head, but I got my revenge in other ways that even though the statute of limitations has passed, I’ll still keep my mouth shut because some things are just better left unsaid [or in this case… things are better left un-typed].

at least no axes were ever involved in any of my break-ups

PPS…Names and dates have been changed to protect the innocent…Except Il Bastardo.

PPPS...If I dated women, I’d totally give every.single.one I ever broke up with this bar of chocolate.

My Favourtite European Cities

February 7, 2021 Elle Wanderlust

I have traveled a lot. Not as much as some, but a lot more than most of the people I deal with on a daily basis. I often get asked what’s my favorite city/country area, and it’s hard to say. Sometimes it depends on my mood. Sometimes it depends on the reason they are asking. So, I’ve come up with a list to answer what’s my favorite. OK two lists: one for smaller cities and one for European capitals.

First up, my favorite European cities.

Kotor, Montenegro
Belgrade, Serbia
St. Petersburg, Russia
Krakow, Poland
Bwets-y-Coed, Wales
Cardiff, Wales
Quedlinberg, Germany

Next, my favorite European capitals.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that, in general, I don’t love large cities. Luckily for me, some of Europe’s capital cities are quite small. Europe is so diverse and every country is so different that it is often impossible to make fair comparisons.

London, England

I have been to London 5 times, but only in the last two years have I gotten out and truly explored the city. I have barely cracked the surface, and there is so much more to explore. I am absolutely head over heels for it. If I could magically get a work visa and a job offer in London [not sure if the NHS hires foreigners or if I’d want to work there, but I digress], I would move there tomorrow; that’s how much I love it. I’ve never pictured myself living in a big city — until I finally explored London for the first time.

Things I love about London:

- The variety — neighborhoods, food, museums, parks, historical sites; they’re all here
- The location — London is situated perfectly to explore Europe, which this traveler loves. The only time I haven’t flown into London for a European holiday was when I solely toured Italy.
- The Englishness — the Tube, the castles, the red double decker buses, the black cabs, the pubs, the tea… it’s all so quintessential English!

Berlin, Germany

At the Olympic Stadium in Berlin

Berlin doesn’t get the attention than Munich or Bavaria does, but that’s OK by me… I’ve never been one to fall for surface flashiness, and on the surface Berlin is grungy, but it’s OK. I’m not ashamed to admit it: I am in love with Berlin. You could actually say that it was love at first sight, as I felt an immediate connection with Berlin from the moment I arrived. I don’t know if it’s the alternative culture, the history, or a mixture of the two that draws me to Berlin. But there’s no denying that it’s a place I can see myself spending a lot of time in in the future.

Things I love about Berlin:

- The history — from Nazis during WWII to the Berlin Wall during the Cold War, Berlin has a fascinating (and very recent) history
- The creative side — because I have a soft spot for hipsters and street art
- The vibe — it’s a little gritty and a little alternative, but Berlin is evolving in a way that I find very exciting.

Budapest, Hungary

August 2015–Danube River–basking in the summer moonlight

I never planned to go to Budapest at least not the first time, but a cheap flight from Geneva on EasyJet had me landing there one January afternoon, and my oh my was is bone-chillingly cold. The capital of Hungary was a bit of a surprise for me — I never expected to like it as much as I did. But, whether it was strolling along the Danube, visiting the Semmelweis Museum, or soaking at the Szecheni Baths while watching snow fall, I found myself loving everything about Budapest. It’s also seriously awesome ( and hot!) in the summer.

Things I love about Budapest:

- The two halves of the city — the Buda and Pest sides of the city have completely different feels to them.
- The bridges — which are attractive and offer up nice views of the Danube.
- The buildings — from Parliament to Fisherman’s Bastion to Buda Castle, there’s plenty of amazing architecture here to view.

Edinburgh, Scotland

The capital of Scotland is one city that I probably will never tire of visiting. It’s not a large capital like the others listed here, but it still has a unique character all its own. Whether it’s roaming around the Old Town or climbing up to quieter parts like Calton Hill, Edinburgh is always enjoyable — even in that unpredictable Scottish weather.

Things I love about Edinburgh:

- The architecture — with the gorgeous Victoria Street being my favorite example
- The history — the entire city is recognized by UNESCO, which tells you something
- The people– Scottish people are a treasure

Cardiff, Wales

Cardiff Castle–Cardiff is home of the 2017 champions league and the Welsh dragon is guarding the trophy.

Cardiff, the smallest capital in the UK doesn’t get near as much attention as London, Dublin, or even Edinburgh, but it’s still pretty amazing. Only two hours by train from London, and 45 minutes to Bristol, you can easily get to a bigger city quickly if the small town feel of Cardiff starts to get to you.

Things I love about Cardiff:

The size–For a capital city, Cardiff is small. And that makes it easy to navigate. And that makes me happy.
It’s location–Cardiff is perched on a river, quite close to the Atlantic Ocean, and on the Wales Coast Path. Coastal Welsh weather is unpredictable, but on nice days, Cardiff is close enough to the beach to make an afternoon of it.
The Language–Welsh is a language I’ll probably never master, but I love that every single sign is in both Welsh and English. The history and architecture are pretty great too.

It’s no secret that I prefer small cities to large ones, but this list is a good mix of both large cities and small villages.

2020 was weird

December 29, 2020 Elle Life

2020 was an ummmm unusual year to say the least. It’s the first year in some time that I haven’t left the country. I’ve only traveled more than 250 miles from my home one time [and that was pre-corona-v]. A global pandemic continues to ravage the world with only some people believing its real. [spoiler alert: it’s real] And for the first time, I tried a no-spend month challenge and failed miserably by buying a new car. So clearly the portal to another dimension is still open.

*An old-fashioned pandemic to celebrate the ‘year of the nurse.’*

Corona V

In late 2019, a seemingly random virus jumped yet again from birds to humans. This has happened before–even recently– with SARS, MERS, bird flu, ect, and while dangerous, none of these were globally devastating. In late February, while in DC, my friend and I visited one of the best, most authentic Chinese restaurants in the city. [I was reunited with the magical green beans that I discovered in the authentic Chinese restaurant in Rwanda of all places]. My friend Taylor remarked that normal Friday nights always result in a wait for a table. I mused that our reason for being able to waltz right in was this new “Wuhan virus”, and people boycotting all things Chinese.

The Spring

Fast forward a mere three weeks later and the virus now known as Coronavirus, Covid-19, corona, ‘the rona’, or the official name SARS CO-V 2, arrived to the US in numbers large enough to cause ‘lockdown phase 1’. To be honest, lockdown did not affect me too much. As an ‘essential health care worker’, I still had to go to work each shift; as a non-parent, the sudden switch to e-learning did not affect me other than my own grad school program transitioning to fully on-line. In-person dining in restaurants ceased, but I rarely ate out and takeaway was still available. Grocery stores also remained open as did home improvement stores. Other than one canceled trip to Knoxville and my local YMCA closing, my spring was the exact same minus Corona-V popping up.

My official travel papers had my driving around just as I did pre-lockdown.

At first, the governor closed schools until March 31, the April 15, then April 30, then finally for the entire school year. People protested the cancelation of proms, spring sports, and in-person graduations (all to be fair, our state’s largest school district STILL had in person graduation). I started some small projects around the house and lovingly called them quarantine projects. I lost count after #5, but think I’m up to 8 or 9 [and still going].

The Summer

By summer, many people were thinking corona-v was on her way out. Non-essential stores had re-opened, restaurants and bars could serve in person again, and some people were back in their offices. And that’s when corona-v showed up on my doorstep. Obviously, I didn’t die, but I was as sick as I ever remember being. I had high fevers [>103], difficulty breathing, shortness of breath, and a distinct lack of appetite, ect. It was touch and go for about two weeks, and I’m still not at pre-corona-v fitness levels.

I planned a socially-distanced vacation with my decidedly non-socially distancing parents and it was— definitely different. It’s very weird to see generational difference play out before ones very eyes. I’m grateful it was to a small beach town instead of say Charleston or Myrtle Beach.

*Socially distant swings on Tybee Beach*

Also more drama concerning schools re-opening, virtually, partially, not at all, full-time, or some variation of all. All I can say is I’m glad I’m not a parent or teacher.

The Fall

Elections happened as they do every other year on the first Tuesday in November, yet even on December 1 we are still talking about it since the out-going president refuses to believe the results. As a result of said elections, I’ve promised to stop avoiding Atlanta like the plague and eschew Charleston for Savannah (not overly difficult as Charleston and I have a complicated relationship).

Corona-V is kicking up her heels again and overwhelming my friends in medicine despite Moderna, Pfizer, and Astra-Zenica all making [at this point] extremely competent vaccines. As a health care worker, I’ll probably be in the first batch of people to receive and since I’ve been vaccinated against nearly everything under the sun, and haven’t turned to Frankenstein yet, I’ll most likely sign up to be injected.

When future historians write the chapter about 2020, it will definitely be one of the more unbelievable 10 months in history.

Ok. hear me out. I heard this song exactly once and I about died laughing. If it isn’t an exact musical representation of 2020, idk what is… here’s low-key fuck 2020 by Avenue Beat

Chapter 40: Someone I used to know

October 11, 2020 Elle Travel

I have known Chris practically my entire adult life. Or at least I thought I did. It took three years for us to have a first date and another 3 years for us to live in the same city. And between then and now we had some amazing times. He inspired me to go back to medical school. For a brief moment in time, I had a fantasy that together we could rule medicine. He with the adults, and me with the tiny humans. And for a brief time, our life together was amazing.

Through four years of medical school, things were idyllic. Nobody describes medical school as idyllic, but I did. Living with Chris during medical school was the best of both worlds. I had a long term partner. I had security, And I had kind of a built in professor. His role as adjunct prof at the school he attended was a blessing in disguise.

Even MS-3, which is hard on many levels, was perfect. On the nights I had overnight call, Chris packed me lunch. He made sure I had clean clothes and food to eat. He made studying easy because all I had to worry about was learning. Life was taken care of. Our cat, Tigs, was cared for; I didn’t have to worry about ‘did I feed Tigs’ or did I scoop the poop because Chris did that too.

I matched to my second choice. First choice in programs; second in location. Too far to stay with Chris but not as far as when we started dating.

Intern year was hard. New city. New hospital. Learning a lot. Missing Chris. I got a cat. Her name is Lily.

Chris and I started to grow apart. I always assumed after intern year things would get better. And they did, for a while. But Chris was dealing with his own demons. And he stated shutting me out. And when he started shutting me out, I felt myself pulling back too. Self-protection, I guess. A couple days between face-times turned into a week, then weeks, turned into a month. Then one day, it was like we never existed.

He became someone I used to know and I hardly even knew myself.

Good riddance to plumbing problems

October 7, 2020 Elle Hideaway Peace Corps

This time a year ago I was peeing and pooping in a hole. I had my own little house chamber pot cleverly disguised as a plastic bucket. And I regularly took baths by using a few liters of water and pouring water over my head with a cup. It was the Peace Corps and I was in rural Rwanda. Indoor plumbing was a pipe dream (see what I did there), and I now know the limits of cleanliness.

Now I am back in the US, living the indoor plumbing and refrigerated air (or mechanically warmed air) dream. Except when it comes to remodels. There were a few things I hated about my little house on the prairie when I moved in. The bathroom was definitely one of them (poor design, inefficient flow, things not working properly, ect). I spruced it up with some paint, new fixtures, and such and called it a day. But I still hated that bathroom.

House renovations problems

Moving right along. Monday started the demolition of said bathroom and I have never in my life been so excited to see studs. Out came the sink and cabinet. Out came the misplaced stand up shower, and out came the wobbly toilet. Up came 1980’s era linoleum. I was a happy girl. The downside of all this is that off went the water supply as well.

As with every remodel ever, things don’t go exactly according to plan. On Tuesday instead of installing floors and a new toilet, backerboard for tile and new sheetrock had to go up. I’m usually more of a do-it-yourself kind of individual. But I knew that for this project, I’d need extra muscles and with extra muscles comes working in someone’s timeframe–which I do not like. I’m more likely to be tiling at 10pm that 10am, but others don’t necessarily appreciate my ‘time management’ skills and so it leads to the conundrum of work cycles.

Despite my extra help or perhaps because of it, it is now day 3 of the remodel and still no water. I am not complaining as the extra help is doing things that I didn’t think about doing, thus ensuring a better outcome in the end, but it does create a little bit of a problem. I spent Monday and Tuesday at a friend’s house happily using their toilet and sleeping away on the couch. But as the old saying goes ‘Fish and houseguests stink after three days’ and I love my friends. I’m (pretty sure) they love me so I did not want to become the smelly house guest.

And so I returned to the prairie despite not having access to running water or indoor plumbing. I was able to eat leftovers (no water required). I could drink the bottled water I purchased last week when Target so thoughtfully had it on sale. And I brushed my teeth without worrying about contracting cholera, dysentery, or giaridia from the rain barrels I have placed thoughtfully around the house to catch rain run-off (usually used to water the plants, or the cats).

Flash forward to October 2020

We are having unusually hot weather for October (it is still 80 degrees at 10:30pm). I live on the prairie with way fewer neighbors than in Rwanda. This evening was a flashback to my previous life. I washed dishes with my roof water. I also put them in the dishwasher to sanitize when water comes back on. And I had a nice little sun-warmed bucket bath. At home. In the United States. Not while camping. And you know what, it was (mostly) enjoyable. My ‘important parts’ and hair are both squeaky clean. And as per usual, I am always amazed at how much filth comes off in the scrubbing. (I shouldn’t be amazed though. It’s 95+ degrees, and I’ve been cutting boards and sanding drywall. And wearing sandals.)

It’s rare that I miss Rwanda. I miss some of the people I met, but not the hardships of daily life. Here going without water for three days is a minor inconvenience. I know that I can hop into my car, go to the store, buy some and be done with it. Or stay at a friend’s house. Or go to the gym and use the pool (I also did ‘chlorine bathing’ in Rwanda). I could also get a hotel room. Most of those were options in Rwanda as well; they were just cost-prohibitive on a Peace Corps’ Volunteers budget. Not having water in Rwanda meant risking dehydration, catching one of the above mentioned bacterial infections, or possibly dying. It meant walking further to fill up a jerry can. Btw a full jerrycan of 20L of water weighs about 45#. Life without water in Rwanda was so much harder.

Memories

Today I can take a bucket bath on my porch and laugh about it. I know that by the end of the week, I’ll have a newly fully remodeled bathroom. I can go back to throwing dirty clothes in a machine, pressing a few buttons, and coming back an hour later to clean, clothes. No effort required on my part. Same for dishes. And same for me. I’ll no longer have to haul buckets of water around, delegate liters to each task, and pray for rain. Now while I do have a well and it won’t last forever without rain, it’s still light years better than catching roof water for all my water needs.

I’ll no longer have to worry about starting a fire to boil water, letting the water cool, then mixing in with non boiled water to achieve optimum bucket bath water temperature. I’ll no longer have to worry about the outside temperature (is it too cold to bath outside, should I just do it in the living room, thus giving the living room a good mopping along with me a good cleaning? These were actual decisions that needed to be made on a somewhat daily basis while living in Rwanda). Today I am grateful to live in an industrialized society where running water and indoor plumbing are the default. As always I am grateful for clean water.

If organs had personalities

September 6, 2020 Elle Workdesk

The other day, Maria and I were having a moment of delirium and started about human organs as if there were actual people. This whole convo started on my first day back from having the actual flu and Taco Tuesday was on the menu. While I indulged, my stomach made it VERY CLEAR that it was not quite up to processing the ingredients composing the aforementioned taco (salad in my case).

So Maria and I started imagining what my stomach would say to me if it had the ability to do such things. And then we came up with Organ Superlatives–kinda like Senior Superlatives in high school.

Friendly Organs

Liver– Most Friendly; Best All-around. The liver is the single mom of the body.. Under appreciated, mostly ignored. Hard worker, quietly toiling away juggling multiple tasks such as cleaning up toxicity, making proteins, and filtering blood. It’ll even take on the work of others when needed (no gallbladder, no problem). Too many bad life choices? The liver still supports you and helps clean up the mess. The liver only complains when it’s been abused too much.

Skin–Best Overall. Skin is inclusive. Welcoming. Keeps everyone together. Acts as an ambassador out meeting everyone

Colon--Most overlooked. Works quietly in the dark for years doing the worst tasks imaginable without making a fuss. Can grow resentful when ignored.

Brain–Literally the IT kid in school. Can make you feel good or bad. Keeps the heart in check. Works quietly but can be a real bitch when aggravated.

Heart–Most Athletic. Plays all the sports. Works out all the time. Knows that it can dominate all the others opponents. Knows its the absolute star on the team. A little selfish. Wanting all the oxygen and blood for itself.

Lungs– Cutest Couple. Works better together. Will keep going when one dies. BFFs with the heart

Bladder— Most easy-going. Friendly, flexible, goes with the flow. Reminds you to drink more water

Spleen– Most welcoming. The spleen is like the freshman advisor. Takes little lymphocytes and teaches them what they need to do to graduate

Clitoris–Biggest flirt. Need we say more

Not so friendly organs

Pancreas–Shadiest organ. Most likely to be on an episode of Dateline. The pancreas sits in the corner of the basement chain-smoking menthols during a AA meeting. It doesn’t bother anyone, but if you accidentally bump in to it, the all bets are off and fisticuffs ensue. When it gets angry, other organs suffer.

Gallbladder–Jerkiest organ. Your emotionally unstable friend that you never know how they will react in any situation. Will turn on you in a hot minute. Also will hold a grudge forever and piles up stones until you’re basically dying.

Stomach— Harsh environment. Can be very fickle.

Appendix–Emo goth kid still trying to figure out its purpose and reason for existence. Literally worthless unless it’s trying to kill you.

Ovaries–Definitely the Mean Girls of high school. Back-stabbing, popular, rich bitches who can make you popular. They can give you all the things the cool kids have (boobs, estrogen, kids if you want them). On the flip side, they can also cause pain and kill you if you ignore them.

Uterus— Most likely to get a red card for being dramatic. Will cramp up for no reason. Bullies stomach and intestines into beating you up too.

Kidneys— Mean beans who try to drag everyone else down. They will throw rocks at you just for not meeting their “demands”. They are also pretty condescending.

Testicles--Wall Street Bros of the body. They work way too hard doing a task that’s mostly unnecessary. They aren’t especially productive, but get way too much credit. Are overly sensitive to criticism.

Falling in love is hard on the knees (Aerosmith)

Chapter 10: Question…?

August 9, 2020 Elle The Night Shift

We had clinic at the big city hospital the other day. I’d say about 75% of our clinical experiences are at this hospital.. it’s the hospital where Jeremy works. It’s always good to see him.

Anyway.

I was working in surgical ICU on this particular day. Surgical ICU is a good place for students because there’s a lot of activity. The primary goal is to get people off the ventilator as soon after surgery as possible so there is a lot of ventilator weaning, adjusting settings, drawing ABGs, spontaneous breathing trials, and extubations. Sometimes there’s setting up BiPAP; other times it’s just oxygen for a few hours. Regardless, SICU is a busy place.

Sometimes, things don’t go as planned and a patient has cardiac and/or respiratory failure. They may have to go back on the ventilator for a while. Such was the case with my patient. The patient was alert and oriented and had borderline passed the weaning tests. The MD said “pull the tube. Sometimes we gotta see what they can do.”

And so I did.

And things were fine. For about an hour. Then monitors started beeping and a flurry of activity commenced.

Now as a student we are not fully certified in ACLS or PALS, but we are in BLS. So I grabbed the Ambu bag and started ventilating the patient. The RN began chest compressions… For what seemed like an eternity, but in reality probably less than 30 seconds, it was just the two of us…

Reinforcements arrived quickly and I backed out of the way while more experienced people took over.

I backed myself into a corner; right up against Jeremy. He put his hand on the small of my back— a decidedly intimate gesture. I froze.

“What does he mean by this” popped in my head.

The patient was re-intubated and placed back on minimal settings. Everyone disbursed and I headed towards the restroom. Jeremy followed.

“Hey, you did really well in there. You kept really calm in a high pressure situation.”

“I’ve got to pee” I replied as I entered the stairwell.

Jeremy followed. He caught up to me in about three steps. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to him, and kissed me squarely on the mouth.

To be fair, I kissed him back

“What the hell is that about?” I blurted after our lips separated.

“Go out with me.”

“Are you insane? I work two jobs. And I’m in school”

“Everybody’s gotta eat at some point. Besides, I can help you study.”

Not really knowing how to extricate myself from this situation, I agreed.

What the hell was i thinking. Dating should be the last thing on my mind, and besides if I were going to date anyone, it would be Chris. Shy, sweet Chris. But alas, I find myself agreeing to a date with Jeremy after he kissed me in the stairwell. Why couldn’t Chris have been the one to kiss me in the stairwell?

I fear this might get complicated.

Chapter 9: Umbrella

August 2, 2020 Elle The Night Shift

We’ve been having a lot of rain lately per usual, but for whatever reason, it seems to have a little more intensity behind it this spring. We have clinical scheduled on Thursdays and our class is split up and assigned various practice sites. One of our classmates jokingly asked if clinical ever got ‘rained out’. You know, like a baseball game, he said.

Our instructor took this opportunity to go on a tirade about how healthcare is a 24/7 job and if thought we didn’t have to show up because of a little rain, then now was the time to choose another career. The tirade went on for quite some time.

24 hours later

I’m at one of the two large hospitals in our area. There are 6 of us total; 3 in one ICU and 3 in another ICU. About 11AM we get an overhead page telling us to report to a specific area. Our instructor tells us rain has caused one of the back-up generators to fail, and there is the potential for the others to fail as well. Until further notice, we are to hang out in ICU and wait for impending power failure. We are briefed on what will happen when (note when not if) the generators fail. All ventilators and other life saving equipment will stop. Our job as students is to take the Ambu bag and manually breathe for the patient for as long as necessary.

20 minutes later the power goes out. All 4 back-up generators fail and the hospital is dark. And quiet. I mean it’s daytime so there’s some light coming in and it’s full of people so there is that kind of noise, but none of the associated beeping one associates with an ICU. For two solid hours, us students manually breathe for these patients. The actual RTs are doing two at a time.

Disaster management is trying to figure out how water got in the building and caused the generators to fail. Meanwhile my hand is developing cramps. We switch off and I get a little break, but the hospital is a complete disaster.

Our clinical ends at 3p, but no one can go anywhere. The area around the hospital is flooded and besides, and perhaps more importantly, there still isn’t power to power the generators. Around 5p, 3 of the 4 back-up generators are functioning we enough. The rain outside has slacked up, but the water is still everywhere. No one is going anywhere any time soon.

The job at the hospital is understanding when I explain the situation and how I’m stuck at another hospital. Thankfully, it’s summer so it’s still daylight when we are finally able to leave the building. The water is receding, but damage has been done. To the hospital and to all the housing around it.

Class is still scheduled for the following day because ‘hey, it’s just a little water, right?

Chapter 8: Bad blood

July 26, 2020 Elle The Night Shift

Clinical is usually pretty boring. To be fair, I’m not sure how I’ll feel about a bunch of neophytes working under my license– once I get it. Most clinicals involve doing very mundane tasks under watchful supervision. It’s rare that something exciting happens. And if it does, I’m usually pushed aside for the more experienced people. Also, to be fair, I’d rather have an experienced therapist working on me than a student, if something interesting happens.

I was talking to Chris about this and he said “you never want to be an interesting patient.” At first, I didn’t quite understand the statement, but now, I get it. If one is sick enough to require an attending physician or a specialist, then one is quite sick. If one’s condition can be solved by a student, it’s not that serious. Besides, students get excited about attending’s mundane.

I digress.

The other day, we were wrapping up for the day, and I was walking back to our meeting point when I heard someone coughing. Not like run of the mill coughing, but like end of times coughing. I poked my head in and asked if the patient needed anything, tissues? trash can? The patient motioned for me to bring the trash can over. So I did. Not two seconds later, the patient coughed, and produced massive quantities of blood. More than I’ve ever seen at one time. More than a trauma. A lot of blood. Bad blood.

The patient’s nurse came in as I was standing there. She hesitated for a half of second before going to the patient’s bed. She held the patient’s hand while simultaneously pressing the call button. A few moments passed until a few others filtered in the room. Time of death was called. I walked out of the room in a state of shock.

The physician took me aside and said, ‘the patient was a no code. There was nothing that could be done.”

I replied “But there was so much blood.”

“The patient most likely ruptured their bronchial artery coughing. You can do this until you retire, and you’ll probably never see this again.”

I met up with the group, still a little shocked by what I saw.

Chapter 7: You need to calm down

July 19, 2020 Elle The Night Shift

My last shift at the hospital was….ummmm, interesting. Very interesting.

It started around 2p, when I’m doing my rounds. I go into the room of a post-op patient. He’s struggling a little to breathe, but in his defense, he up moving around. I check his vital sighs and they are out of range. Heart rate elevated, respiratory rate elevated, oxygen sat lower than it should be. Something was off.

I let the nurse know that something was off with this patient and she sort of dismissed my concerns and told me if I was concerned, I could call the surgeon myself.

I went back downstairs and mentioned my findings to Lloyd. He agreed to come look at the patient. We go up together and assess the patient again. He looks worse, but is still up moving around, preparing for discharge.

Lloyd agrees to stay with me as I call the surgeon since its my first time doing it.

I write down what I’m going to say.

“Hi, I’m calling about Patient [Name}. You preformed [type of surgery] yesterday. His vital signs are [vital signs]. I calling because he’s short of breath and diaphoretic in addition to his vital signs.”

I see the RN I reported the vitals to in the background, laughing.

The surgeon replies YELLING–and this is a direct quote–“Who the fuck do you think you are calling me about a patient. I wrote discharge orders on him this morning. Why the fuck is still in the building?”

THE YELLING through the phone can be heard everywhere.

“Aren’t you a fucking nurse? I write the orders and you follow them. And if you can’t do that, then you can get the fuck out of my hospital”

From somewhere deep down inside, I pull up resolve I didn’t know I had. I manage to not break down.

“Actually, I’m not the nurse, but I am a member of the care team. I reported the finding to the patient’s nurse, and she chose not to do anything. Upon reassessment, the patient had decompensated further. And that’s why I called you. And I just wish you would try to throw me out of this hospital when you are clearly in the wrong here.”

And I the schadenfreude I felt when I called her over, “Excuse me, it’s for you”.

MORE YELLING occurred over the phone. The RN furiously scribbled new orders. Her eyes shot daggers in my direction.

I made a beeline for the elevator. Chris joined me.

“Bold move, Cotton.” I don’t know why Chris has started calling me Cotton, but he has. “That surgeon is an asshole. Did you really tell the nurse about everything and she didn’t do anything?

‘I did. And she didn’t”

“Good job. You probably saved his life. Sounds like a pulmonary embolism to me. He’s probably going to call me for ‘medical management’ and I’m going to tell him to go fuck himself. Because I can. He needs to learn he can’t speak to people like that and still get what he wants. That surgeon has lost his damned mind.”

“But you did good” Chris looks at me a little too long. I shifted my eyes and wondered how an elevator that only travels between the ground floor and one level up can take so long.

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