The town crier.

"Let her cry. Let the tears fall down like rain." 

- Hootie and the Blowfish

I used to try my best not to cry in front of patients and families. In medical school and residency, I'd excuse myself abruptly and tear out of the room and into a hallway or a bathroom when I felt my eyes stinging. I knew that if I didn't, the volcano would erupt and my secret would be out: I'm a crier.

Yeah.

One day, I didn't make it. I broke down crying while giving some bad news. And you know? The world did not end. I held it together enough to speak in full sentences but, yeah, I cried. Hard, too. And I cried because I was talking about something worth crying about.

Yeah.

Somebody was losing their mama. And that mama was a good mama, too. A sweet, sweet mama. You could see it in the way they rallied around her and rubbed her cheeks and kissed her head. Those grown kids couldn't be objective. Love had them all myopic to how bad this all was.

But not me.

Today that happened to me again. Almost exactly as it did that time many, many years ago. And it happens to me just about every time that I am on the hospital service. I step into the circle of love as one of the only ones who can see. But when they let me in, I start to feel that love, too. I do believe in miracles just like they do. Still, I owe it to everyone to be honest. To tell what I know.

"I don't know what to do," the daughter said.
"I am here to help you be brave," I replied.

And then we both cried. Hard. And I'm crying again writing this.

I'm okay with it, though. When it doesn't hurt is the only time I'll worry. Until then, I'll continue to keep two tissues in my pocket just in case.

Yeah.

***
#thisisgrady #bestjobever #humanityliveshere #letitburn #myteamsawmecrytoo #andiwascoolwithit #amazinggrady #john13v35 #loveisthewhat

Question askers.

I love it when people have people. Like, when they are sick in the hospital and I come in to see them and there is a loved one there at the bedside? That's a good thing, man.

The ones that perk up when you walk in are my favorites. They have the steno pads with questions on them and read your badge then write down your name. These are the folks that ask the questions that the patient is too tired or too sleepy or too scared to ask. They keep you honest and on your toes.

And.

They point out those things that aren't life-threatening but are quality-of-life-threatening like:
"Can y'all do something about how dry his lips are?"

or

"Is there something prescription you can give her for those ashy elbows?"
or, my favorite this week:

"Miss Manning, can you PLEASE have somebody maybe from surgery come and see about fixing his outty?"

O_o

Um. You mean as in, the outty belly button that has been in such a state since Muhammad Ali was telling folks he wasn't fighting in no war?

Chile please.

Seriously though? I don't mind. Because seeing you at the bedside is right up there with seeing balloons, cards and flowers. It's a sign that somebody loves my patient. And somebody loving you is a positive prognostic indicator, man. You got a bunch of questions? That's cool. Bring it on.
That is, unless you start asking me about YOUR ashy elbows. Or YOUR outty belly button from 1965.

Then you got to go.

Good times, man.
***

Affection control.

Late afternoon rounds today

Me: "Hey there."
Patient: "Hey."
Me: "I just came back to check on you and--"

*notices another person in the bed*

Patient: "Oh we ain't doing nothing in here. We just cuddling." *pulls back cover* "See? We dressed."
Me: "Wow. Umm, okay. Soooo. . . that's like. . .uhhh. . . . . yeah."
Patient: *smacks lips* "You act like we in here hooking up!"
Me: "Ewww. Seriously?"

*laughter from both.*

Me: "Okay but for real. Y'all spooning in here is an infection risk. Soooo . . . .you have to get up out of this bed." *laughing and shaking my head*
Patient: "Awww man."
Me: "Sorry not sorry."
Patient: *pouts* "But that's my boo."

*laughter*

Me: "Well. Boo? You ain't got to go home but you got to get up out this bed I know that. Before the infectious disease team comes to get me."

*laughter*

Patient: *scowling as Boo gets out of the bed* "Miss Manning, you was probably a blocker back in the day wasn't you?"
Me: "Wait. A what?"

*laughter*

Me: *shaking my head* "Okay but for real. The bed is for the patient only, okay?"
Boo: "I got to leave anyway, babe."
Patient: "SEE, Miss Manning? You a BLOCKER."

*silence*

Me: "I'm sorry, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit."

*laughter*

I love this job.


***
#nospooning #idontmakethisstuffup #yourewelcomeinfectioncontrol