Yesterday as I started my evening shift after getting report from the day nurses, the peace of the ward was disturbed by a small voice that was loudly sobbing.
It was Emmit.
Everyday at 2:30 pm the day shift nurses take the patients outside to deck seven for some fresh air. Emmit had already made it outside when, suddenly, he had to be brought back in so he could get an x ray of his chin taken. And the worse part was he had to wait for it to develop before he could return to the great outdoors.
And so, enraptured with disappointment, he stood by the D ward door, staring at it and crying. I tried to offer him words of comfort and a kiss on the forehead but it was useless; only being on deck seven would sooth his woe.
Emmit has a great mother. She is a stickler for making sure Emmit takes his medicine, drinks enough pediasure, and washes with his mouth wash properly. She even brings his medicine cups to the sink when he is finished with them.
Tonight Emmit's sister, Mercy, visited.
"This is your sister-in-law," his mom said.
"Emmit told me today he loves you and Karoline (another nurse). He wants to marry you both."
At this point, little 10 year old Emmit was sitting on his bed with a very sly little smile peaking out of his bandage. I really don't know how I feel about being two-timed by another woman, but he is so cute, it might just be forgivable.
When Mercy left, Emmit started to cry again. Mercy was going home. He wanted to go home too.
Apparently, love is fickle.