Fleeting

Tonigh I had dinner at the Emergency Department with my husband. The kids were at ballet and karate. I grabbed some sushi from Publix and headed in for a meal at his computer station.

He said that, ironically, he got his "first" COVID patient in quite a long time again this evening.

COVID has changed the "pulse" of the ED. There are more psychiatric patients (by far!) We (meaning me with the kids) used to stop in and see him periodically. But now, there is almost never not a psychiatric patient there that means it really isn't emotionally/physically safe for my kids to be there. 

The "frequent flyers" (people that come to the ED a lot -- either because they have mental issues or legitimate health concerns) aren't really there anymore. John honestly thinks most of them have died during COVID, and the few that didn't, have been scared away. 

As JB and I stood in the ambulance bay saying good bye, he heard a fire truck go by. He got distracted trying to figure out if it was coming or going. Later he would tell me that that fire truck was on its way to a young person's house. John lost a patient that was very sad and unexpected mere moments after I walked away. Someone who wasn't ready/expected to die. 

Life is short.

Fleeting.

Hard.

I'm so proud to be married to this amazing man that does such a good job taking care of people in our community.