The Memory of a Dream

The Hospital

My eyes were barely open and stuck together with crust and sleep. My alarm was blaring, but I was exhausted and sore. I had been on my feet for 13 hours the day before and stayed up half the night due to my brain not wanting to shut down.

I kept staring at the alarm clock. The red numbers flashing as if they were screaming at me to get up. I imagined hitting it with a hammer, watching a thousand pieces fall to the floor while I roll over and go back to sleep. This did not happen because I was expected to be on my feet for another shift at the hospital. They always tell me a 8-hour shift, but it is never that short, especially on weekends or holidays, which this week was considered both.

New Year's Eve was approaching and we always get the worst cases around the holidays. Suicide attempts, drunken threats, detoxers, self-harmers...you name it, we get it.

I took a deep breath, turned off the alarm clock and peeled myself out of bed. The wooden floor was cold and hard and my heels were on fire. I needed coffee desperately, but I had no time to make it. I would have to drink the lunchroom coffee and hope to God someone brought sweets of some kind.

I sleepily rush to put on my scrubs and get dressed. I noticed vomit on my shoes from the night before. A detoxer couldn't make it to the bathroom. It wasn't his fault, alcohol withdrawal is hell and it happens. It just reminded me of the night ahead of me and how I would need an extra can of energy drink to get through.

I rushed through feeding my cat, Bubba, and grabbed my coat and keys. I made sure my phone and wallet were in my purse and jogged outside. Clive, the next door neighbor, was there shoveling his drive. He waved and smiled. Nice guy, but creepy. He reminded me of the character of Herbert on Family Guy. He was always in his robe, it was never tied all the way shut and he stared at me until I left the street.

I was away from his creepy stare and turned my radio volume up, I needed to clear my head. I felt foggy and tired and angry. I was nearly on the verge of calling in sick, but I know that would never fly with Melanie, my coworker at intake. She would kill me if I left here there all by herself on a holiday weekend to register the drunks and crazies.

I stopped smoking years ago, but recently picked up that lame vaping craze. It was easier to help me with quitting cigarettes, but also easier to hide on the smoke breaks we aren't allowed to go on, but do anyway and to be honest, if I didn't have some kind of vice, I would end up a patient in that place.

I arrived in my usual parking spot next to Melanie's little red Kia. She had pink fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror and little flower decals on her back window. She is the epitome of a girly girl with a sarcastic attitude. Pink and glitter and cat eyeliner. I admired her conviction, but I don't have the energy to put that much effort to how I look. I got sick of doing my hair and just got a pixie cut out of pure laziness.

I forced myself out of the car and the door creaked with age. My car wasn't a new car like Melanie's, but it got me from A to B so I was fine with it.

I swiped my badge to our ward and walked down the hall as slowly as possible without looking too obvious that I did not want to be at the hospital. I still felt that urge to run and never look back. My feet didn't cooperate with my mind and I kept going.

::: sigh::: "Hey Melanie", I said as I turned the corner to the intake office.

"Hey, girl! Wow, you sound thrilled to be here. Welcome to the Jungle!", Melanie replied.

"How's it been so far?", I asked.

"Nothing yet, but I've only been here 30 minutes, although I did see a girl come in clutching in a clown doll. It was super creepy." She replied.