Kibosh

I was terrified of piranhas as a kid. Recurring nightmares of my toes in shallow water, bitten off by fish, specifically piranhas. Turns out, I need not have worried.

Got to work this morning, and the full, four room schedule, 16-20 cases, had evaporated to two cases total. Our disinfecting wipes were stolen over the weekend. So, to reserve supplies, only urgent cases will be done. Fractures, injuries that would inflict lasting damage or pain, that sort of thing. I checked my accrued time off, and should be fine.




So, got home, ate my lunch, and decided to do the paint wash on the red (before us painted brick), like I wanted to do last fall. My wrist snapping put the kibosh on that plan. Today, I got on it. I'm pleased, but it's very different, and I have to get used to it. It's not completed, I've learned when to quit for the day. Need to trim back the bush before I do the last corner.


I find myself in semi-permanent waiting for trauma case mode. A kind of prep-and-be-still, open a fresh empty page, breathe quietly. In Basic, the drill sergeants hammered into us not to anticipate. Wait for the order, specifically in drill, react when 'forward march' is given, and not before. I wait for green lights with the same sense of mind. Or for the patient to roll in, or the surgeon to answer the question I asked an hour before. Not knowing what my role will be in the current events, only that I will be doing something, has me feeling blank.