So how did I get here? Sitting in a room in the emergency department of Fremantle Hospital at 5:30 a.m. on a Friday, tapping out this stream of consciousness, or perhaps I should say semi-conciousness.
Thursday had its ups and downs. My rear dérailleur cable snapped on the way to work, presenting challenges of its own, but thanks to a very accomplished bike mechanic the bike was fixed in time to give me a great ride home.
Once I got home life was pretty normal. That was until we got the call. Our daughter, Emily, was experiencing sharp pains and needed to be picked up from her part time job. Pauline headed out to get her and soon realised this was more than a tummy ache. After dropping home so that Emily couple change they headed out again to the after hours GP. The doctor suspected appendicitis so we all headed for Armadale Hospital where we waited about three hours for Emily to be seen by a doctor. After some initial treatment it was suggested we drive Emily to Fremantle where she could be seen by a surgeon.
That was many hours ago. Emily has been looked after very well by some lovely staff but the surgeon has had to go to theatre so we’re waiting again. Thankfully Emily’s now quite comfortable but Pauline and I could do with a bed and some sleep … and for that matter the dinner we missed out on last night.
Seeing an emergency department go about their business in the wee small hours is quite an experience. Doctors, nurses and support staff all go about their business, never knowing what the next moment will bring.
Just a short while ago a patient was wheeled past the room where Emily is resting. The patient was in a bed surrounded by medical staff, blood across their face. I caught just a snatch of the conversation as they passed. “Yep, passenger.” The victim of a road accident no doubt. Right now there are two police officers exchanging information on a crash with the emergency department staff.
There’s a lot of waiting for us here this morning but there’s also a sense that our girl is in very good, caring hands. Hands that will be called upon to patch up people from a variety of circumstances. I’ve only caught a snapshot of what goes on here but it’s enough to give me great respect for those who day after day care for those who come through the door marked ‘EMERGENCY’.
Do you think some of your friends would enjoy reading Yep … Passenger? Please use the buttons below to share the post. Thanks.