the first, and i hope the last, time

i work in an emergency room.

it is inevitable that i see things that are like indelible stains in my memory.

stories, images. sometimes they flow through my head at night at lightning speed.

sometimes they are slow motion images that haunt.

could we have done anything else?

should we have done something different?

how on earth is that family going to go home tonight and wake up in the morning and just breathe?

i had to do something for the first time in my 15+ years of nursing. 10 of which has been spent in the emergency room.

i had to participate in a code of a 12 year old boy.

a code is where the person you are caring for is no longer breathing and doesn't have a heart beat.

he was 12.

the circumstances surrounding what put him in that situation were totally accidental. wrong place, wrong time.

he was 12.

we switch off doing chest compressions every 1-2 minutes because it is exhausting.

i got to be his heart beat every few minutes.

he was 12.

i keep coming back to that because i cannot wrap my head around it.

the mother had to come in after we had done everything, everything we could have done.

she had to say good-bye.

and then go home to his room.

still a mess, probably.

maybe some dirty clothes on the floor.

some open comic books spread out.

school books in a backpack.

how on earth do you sleep after saying goodbye?

how do you even say goodbye?

i hope i never have to do that again.