is she asleep? the voice on the other line is now as familiar to me as any of my co-workers’. that of the boyfriend of my patient in XXXB.
soundly, i told him. he was not content. did she ask for more demerol? i told him she was good with her oxycontin at bedtime.
we had similar midnight phone conversations ever since his girlfriend, a frail woman of only 22 years, was admitted three weeks ago for intractable, generalized pain.
nobody really knows what'’s going on with her. not even her attending doctor. all we can see is this sapless woman given to bouts of debilitating pain. pain she could not localize. sometimes, it’'s from her joints, most of the times, it’'s just the back.
and the pain is so enfeebling that the girl, basically a kid, has been reduced to a hemiplegic, her left side. no stroke here, no cardiac arrest, no nothing. all pain. crippling pain.
last week, it has gotten worse. when eating, food, processed, pureed food, now just dribble from her mouth.
i’'ve worked in acute care for a time now and yet the sight of this woman cut in her prime by this mysterious pain still ruffles me.
things only get better when the boyfriend is around. not that she magically gets well when he is here. no, the pain is ever present.
it only gets better for me. just looking at this young man, strapping and looking like he could get it anytime, anywhere, insisting on feeding his infirm girlfriend. just being with her. i couldn'’t help but be more believing with this world.
one time, i chanced upon them during meal time. he brought her what looked like homemade tripe soup.
i was shocked. the lawsuit weary nurse in me quickly told him she could choke. don'’t worry, he told me. i over cooked this, he said while pulling the sweetbread by hand into thin, easy to swallow shards. this is her favorite, you know. how, in the world, can i argue with that?
last night, she rang the call bell. i immediately went to the narcotics box to get her demerol before scurrying off to her room.
but she did not want any pain med. all she wanted to know if something'’s wrong with her phone because her boyfriend hasn'’t called her up yet.
oh, i forgot to tell you, i told her. he called up earlier but i told him you were asleep. she smiled then asked me to dial his boyfriend's number. she also asked me to cradle the phone between her right ear and her right shoulder she shrugged sharply. she looked so pained in this position.
as soon as she began talking to him, i thought i would see her agony diminished. but her face was still contorted from pain. and yet she went on with their conversation. about nothing, really. some talk about how stupid this sitcom was earlier on tv.
i made this hand sign telling her i’'ll be back later for her pain med. she mouthed something like thank you. she looked like she was in labor.
an hour later, i did rounds and i found her soundly asleep again. as i left her room, i suddenly heard this tinny giggle.
she was giggling. in her dreams.
a giggle from a girl, all giddy with the almost summer weather, blushing from daring to wear this really short shorts, going to the corner store to first buy this cherry flavored soda and then sipping it at the curbside while waiting for his boyfriend to pick her up in his beat up hog.