I was on the tenth floor when I heard it. Typically those nearby run to get to the code. I wasn't near. But I did wonder what it was all about. Grady is busy, though. There's lots that I wonder about.
And then I go on to wondering about something else.
Yeah.
A few hours had passed. I was checking on one of my patients. The patient in the bed next to his was talking about what he thought had happened.
Neighbor Patient: "Somebody got shot right in front of Grady!"
Me: "Really? Oh my goodness. I hadn't heard that."
Nurse: "No. That's not true. Some young brothers pulled up with somebody who'd been shot. Dumped him right on the curb in front of Grady like some luggage and pulled off."
She looked skyward and shook her head with disapproval.
Then she put a BP cuff on my patient's arm.
Me: "Wow. So . . .no one was actually shot in front of Grady?"
Nurse: "No, I don't think so. But isn't that awful? Just throwing somebody's child on the ground not caring if they live or die? Then pulling off before you could see what happened?!"
Me: *sigh* “Damn.”
*silence*
My patient spoke in a gravelly voice: "You said 'brothers?'"
The nurse paused, balled up her espresso-colored fist on her hip and curled her lips at him in response. Then she cocked her head at him for emphasis.
My patient nodded and turned back toward the television.
"That's just TERRIBLE." That's what the neighbor-patient said. Then he said it like five more times in case we didn't hear the first time.
"Wow," I mumbled. Again, because I still couldn't think of what else to say.
Everybody was quiet. Except for Steve Harvey on the TV.
The nurse wiped my patient's fingertip pad with an alcohol wipe and pricked it with a lancet. He winced. She looked at him softly and rubbed it in this tender way that showed that she cared about his discomfort.
I liked that.
Me: "Man. I hope the guy who got shot did okay.”
The nurse kept shaking her head. Then she moved on to flushing my patient's IV line.
Her: "Me, too. Such a shame. Who does that?"
The roommate made a few more comments about "not knowing what this world is coming to" and "letting our ancestors down."
No one disagreed.
Finally, my patient, a Grady elder, spoke.
Him: "Look to me like them kids who dropped him off cared a whole bunch 'bout whether he live or die. Bet you they somewhere distraught 'bout they friend."
Nurse: "Friend? FRIEND? With friends like that, who needs enemies?"
The Grady elder swiveled his head in her direction and looked at her; his face was impassive.
Him: "If you ain't give a damn about somebody, would you bring them someplace where you KNOW they'd do everythang to save they life if they got shot?"
His wizened eyes narrowed.
We all held his gaze in quiet deference. He raised his eyebrows and went on.
Him: "Look to me like that was they main man. Somebody they really cared about and hoped would be okay if you ask me."
He shrugged and started fishing around in the sheets for his remote control.
I stared at him, hands resting on my lap and spine stick straight in the bedside chair. The nurse was frozen in her tracks. The neighbor had (finally) stopped talking.
No one spoke. We all waited for the Grady elder. He didn't look like he was done.
He wasn't either.
Him: "The real question is this: Ask yourself WHY would some young brothers feel scared to bring they friend up in here after he got shot? WHY would they not be willing to stay to make sure they friend don't bleed to death? You really think it's 'cause they don't care?"
When nobody had a reply, he let out a raspy chuckle and shook his head. His expression spoke volumes.
After that, he turned his television back up and settled into The Steve Harvey Show. And didn't say another word.
But you know what? He didn't have to.
Perspective is everything. Thank you, sir.
I am listening.
I am learning.
I am trying.
Yeah. . . .
Damn, I love this job. 🏥🙏🏾
#bedsidewisdom #listenandlearn #amazinggrady #iseeyou