I’m running on empty. But I don’t stop running.
I visit Otto to check in on his progress. The first twenty-four hours of the transplant have the highest risk for complication, but his vitals are good, and his recovery is going well, even if he is a bit groggy from the medicines. Otto wakes up enough to admit to me privately that he would like the recovery teddy bear, after all.
I go to pick up the teddy bear (we have a whole bunch of them waiting in pediatrics) and, on the way, run into Kenzi, who needs some clothes from home.
So I drive back to her place, pack a bag of clothes, and bring them back to the hospital.
Check in on Donovan and give him a teddy bear.
Donovan: “What the fuck is this?”
Have a teddy bear thrown at my head. Donovan is recovering his strength well.
Give the teddy bear to its true owner. Otto is back asleep, so I tuck it into his arm.
Deliver the clothes to Kenzi, who is grateful.
Go to check in on Donovan again. He’s stubborn and not taking his morphine. Instead, he’s curled up, gritting his teeth.
Stroke Donovan’s hair until he settles back to sleep.
Do the rounds and check back in on my daily line of patients.
Once everyone’s cleared, go to the bunks. Collapse in the bottom bunk, still fully clothed, and set my alarm for two hours. Fall asleep with the phone still in my hand.
Wake up with a body behind me. Kenzi is the big spoon, with her arm tucked around my middle.
In this moment, everything is worth it. I hit the snooze button and allow myself a precious thirty more seconds to savor this feeling.
When my alarm goes off a second time, I get up to do it all over again.
