Halloween was a little sureal in my world.
Started handing out candy to the munchkins in my neighbourhood, all decked out in their adorable/cute/creepy/scary costumes.
But then I had to leave and head in for my 13 hour night shift (oh yes . . . time change . . . fall back . . . everyone else gets to sleep an extra hour . . . . but I get to work. Boo!)
I went from cute kids and their parents all happy and having fun, to seeing a mom kissing her “little boy” on the head. A young man, barely even a man, who made another attempt to escape the demons in his own head. He almost succeeded this time…. and maybe he still will. Too early to tell.
Flash forward a few hours and a Trauma code is called over the PA system. Never a good sign. Rumors trickle up to us on the second floor. Four young men (again… barely even men) in a fast car met a tree. Helped a coworker admit one. Didn’t look good, but was better than the others. I was to admit the second. Updates on him coming to us from the ER were not looking optimistic . . . coded twice already . . . . But my admission (to me my first admission of a trauma patient, first admission of a really sick patient) was not meant to be tonight.
This morning I walked home in the sunshine, passing by the remains of pumpkins smashed on the roads . . . . too bad the jack-o-lanterns were not the only victims of this year’s Halloween celebrations . . . .
Hmm… It looks like it is that time again.
