Short and somewhat fragmented, much like my thought processes these days.
Twice a week we are banished to the purgatory of the ER. A place where it is neither night nor day, summer nor winter; yet everything all at once. Bright lights rob us of any true orientation, disconcerting after a certain number of waking hours. The ER doesn’t play by the rules of other places. Things never come to a stop, but merely slow down, then speed up. An irregularly irregular pulse of activity. Time follows a similar pattern. It would be foolish to associate night with rest, or any other time for that matter. Rest, for the fortunate, is always stolen from within duties.
Here in the accident and emergency department, we juggle the accidental emergencies and tackle the emerging accidents. We main sharp-witted, shrewd, and often sure of ourselves, even when we are not.
The walls absorb as many prayers and curses as the floor does blood, sweat and tears. Wails and yells pierce the air intermittently, an argument dotted here and there. But that’s all routine.