On that inauspicious day, Christmas Day, when I was first off of orientation and was floated to the MICU (medical ICU), I found my work wife. Of course, I didn't know it at the time. I didn't even know what a work wife was. This is, in retrospect, a kind of love story.
I think Christmas was on a Saturday that year. It was my very first day off of orientation to the Cardio-Vascular-Thoracic surgical unit. (read that, we take the bypass and heart valve replacement patients less than 24 hours after surgery. We also take all of the carotid surgeries and femoral bypass folks, to name a few) As non-ICU floors go, we are intense. In smaller hospitals, my floor would be the Unit. But we are a larger hospital, and so we take care of lots of folks who require many drips, many procedures, many drains, many chest tubes, and just many things. And so I, fresh off of absent-orientation, found myself floated to MICU. New hire, new off of orientation, new to the hospital, floating away. And this big, bombastic, wild-haired, loud-mouthed nurse made it known that SHE thought it was a travesty. Huh. Who the hell are you and why are you in my corner and please shut up because you're drawing attention to me. Huh.
Her name is Sheri. She is simply a wonderful nurse. There ain't no better praise than that. She was loud to my quiet. She was wide, wide open to my worried closed. She was a shield to my weakness. She was scared in the places where I was strong. We ended up work wives, and I can't really tell you how. She just seemed to be always there for me, and therefore, when I was actually able to be there for someone else, I was there for her.
For a year or so, in my new era, I worked weekends. Every weekend. And so Sheri and I worked weekends together. We had each other's back. All. The. Time. And laugh?? My word, we laughed. We laughed the gut-cramping, tears-down-your-face laugh. No matter how bad things were going, we had each other to depend on and had each other to share a way sick laugh. (Nurses have whacked out senses of humor) We didn't always work in close proximity, but that didn't much matter. It got to the point where WE were the cool folk to be paired with (which means respiratory folk, nursing assitants, physical therapy folk et al). And others were drawn into the fold. If someone went down for coffee, a cup would show up on your desk, just how you like it. You didn't always know who put it there, and it really didn't matter, because you would probably be buying coffee later on or tomorrow or next weekend. (For most nurses, coffee is a food group) Sometimes, when there was a moment to breathe, we would all gather for a 10 minute coffee break. Coffee, sweets, laughter....all to shake off the reality of nursing. Because sometimes my job is really hard. Because when I have a bad day, it means that my patients have had a bad day. Because sometimes we have to zip that bag over a face. Because we are always hard core. And because we are always hard core, we need a buddy to help us walk that path.
I had a work wife. Her name was Sheri. And I miss her.
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