Thursday, May 03, 2007
The ED Sonnets: Room 10
These two have more off-rhymes than usual, but Gary thinks they work as is, so I'm posting them anyway.
In other medblogging news, the latest Change of Shift, the nursing blog carnival, is up over at Emergiblog. Kim very graciously not only included my post, but added an advertisement for my upcoming readings. Thanks, Kim!
This room has dental chairs instead of beds,
and houses ear infections, injured eyes,
cat scratches, nosebleeds, rashes, boils and hives.
Why are these patients here, I think, instead
of Fast Track? Take this guy, who burned his hands
and needs the dressings changed: emergency?
I’m puzzled, but we banter pleasantly
about his job, the weather, foreign lands
he’s visited. And then in that same tone --
relaxed and casual -- he tells me how
the devil lives inside his radio,
prefers rock stations, won’t leave him alone,
drowns out his favorite songs. “I had to buy
an iPod. He’s not there yet, but he’ll try.”
And here we have a mom and little boy,
wide-eyed at what they’ve heard. HIPAA, hurray!
I smile to reassure them. They can’t say
a word Chair One won’t hear. “Do you enjoy
this job?” the mother asks. “Oh, yes!” Her code
is clear: You like to talk to folks like that?
I really do: the universe is vast,
exhilarating. These small rooms bestow
huge gifts, God’s strangeness shining from each tale,
particular and poignant. “So what brings
you here tonight?” The child looks up, looks sad.
“Sam bit me. He’s my dog. He was on sale,
but now we have to take him back.” He clings
to Mom. “He wasn’t trying to be bad!”