I’m awake just after midnight, staring Saturday morning in the face, and hoping that Saturday will finally be the day I can go back home from the hospital. I’m not writing to complain about my situation, there’s something else on my mind.
While Hal was here visiting me, the nurse who was in the room with us responded to the words “Code Blue”. I’ve seen enough tv shows to understand what that meant. Someone’s life was in real dander, and the nurse sprinted out of the room to help.
She returned about 15 minutes later and I could tell she was visibly shaken, although she tried her very best to hide it. She resumed the routine work she was doing on me until the phrase “Code Blue” rang out again. Once more she sprinted out of the room.
When she returned, she wasn’t able to mask her feelings. “The poor man” she said under her breath, hoping that Hal and I didn’t hear her. The cheery bedside manner was gone for a moment and we saw the real person instead of the professional nurse.
To think of how many times she has responded to “Code Blue”, and how many more times she will do so reminded me of how strong nurses really are.
If you know a nurse, thank them. If you see a nurse, thank them. If you’re stuck in the hospital like I am, thank each and every nurse for every little thing that they do for you.