Mind your own business!

Mind your own business!

Finally …. I had moved out of that dingy old apartment in an extremely poor neighborhood! Now I could afford something nicer since I was finally finished with college and was working. My scholarships paid the lion's share of the tuition while my small inheritance paid the rest, Thank Goodness! Now the only things I had to worry about were keeping this wonderful roof over my head, staying warm, and feeding myself…... on a regular basis ……. that would be nice.

Going from a paid Nursing Assistant, here at the hospital, during my training, to a Registered Nurse, let alone now being a Charge Nurse was a difficult transition. An even greater transition now, since now my coworkers were now my staff. Good thing I had built a great relationship with them during my training or …... this could get ugly!

I had always had my heart set on working in either Pediatrics or Labor and Delivery …. I love kids. The hospital needed an Emergency Room Nurse, so I took the job. The one thing about ER it never gets boring ……... even when you wish you wish it would!

I quickly changed into hospital scrubs, found Alice, the Night Shift Charge Nurse to get the report. We walked from cubicle to cubicle discussing each patient still either waiting for treatment, waiting to be admitted, or waiting to be discharged. From there we moved to the Trauma Rooms, the much more serious cases.

When we arrived at room number 5, my heart leaped as I looked at the patient, laying on his back looking back at me with knowing eyes. “Oh my God! Mr. Langley” I whispered softly “What happened to you?” as I approached his side.

“You know him?” Alice quizzed me. “He was just admitted to ER a few minutes ago as a John Doe. We couldn’t find any identification on him and he couldn’t tell us anything. He was hit by a car.”

“This is Thomas Langley. I think he’s homeless. This is the cleanest I have ever seen him. He comes by my apartment every day and sits on the steps. He is always so sweet and polite; he never bothers anyone. I think he is lonely. I see him talking to other homeless people all the time. Not in just my neighborhood but other places in town as well. He really seems to get around.

Every morning before I leave for work, I make him a cup of coffee and a sandwich. I hate to see him go hungry. Every evening when I get back home, he is there sitting on my steps again. When I cook my dinner, I bring some out for him as well. I enjoy talking to him, he seems to be well educated, I often wondered what happened to him. When I would try to find out more about him and offer him help, he would turn away from me, asking me to mind my own business…… please.

There were many days, I watched him write in his little black book that he carries in his inside coat pocket. Say…. Did you find it?’ I asked.

Quickly Alice shuffled through the pages of Thomas’ chart looking for the Clothing Sheet. She found it …... but it was empty ……. yet signed by the patient and the staff member. How strange? There was no mention of any clothing on the paper. We looked at each inquiringly. Just as I was about to ask if he was hit by the car naked …… hey! it can happen! Many times, people disrobe for any reason and show up here at the hospital…... nude!

She blurted out, “He was fully dressed, I was the Nurse who triaged him.”

“We have to find the Nurse that signed this form. Do you think Sally has left yet?”

“Let’s go to the break room, if she is still here, she might be in there” Alice directed.

We made it to the break room while it was still filled with staff, both coming and going. Locating Sally, I asked breathlessly, “Where is Thomas Langley’s clothing?”

Wide-eyed, Sally blurted, “Who?”

“John Doe in room 5 Trauma” I corrected.

“You know him?” Sally quizzed, “Really? He's homeless!”

“Yes. Yes, I do. He’s on my street a lot. Where is his clothing? He kept a journal, I think, it's a little black book. I’m sure he would want that. It’s probably his most valued possession!”

“I put them in a bag and put them in the closet in his room, why?” Sally flushed.

“Oh, thank you! You forgot to list them on the clothing sheet!” I warned, then quickly left to retrieve his belongings. Finding the bag, as promised, I located his coat, just as I thought, it was inside his coat pocket. Opening his book, I felt my face flush…. “Dear Janie Burke” that was me!

In his letter he told me how much he appreciated my kindness to him, feeding him, watching him, he said he felt like I was his guardian angel. He then went on to say that if I was reading this, that something must have happened to him and he probably wasn’t able to tell anyone what happened or who he was because the adventure he was on was a dangerous one. What? Adventure? Dangerous? What the hell? He did have a head injury…. Hmmm.

After I caught my breath, I continued reading. He went on to ask me to bring this book to his daughter, giving me all the information, explaining that she will understand and answer all my questions.

Since I couldn't leave right now, I quickly called his daughter, telling her about her father being in the Trauma Area in ER after being hit by a car. She gasped, “Oh my God! I told him I was afraid for him to take on this venture!”

“What ‘venture’ is that?” I quizzed.

“My father is not Thomas Langley, Jane. He is Doctor John Westward, MD. He retired a few years ago after he lost his patient on the Surgery table, a homeless man, living on the street, he too had been hit by a car, he had no medical insurance, no residence, no family as far as we knew. This man was gravely injured and about to die. There were actual staff members and other Doctors who voted to just let him go, who the hell cares anyway, right? Wrong! My father worked long hours in that Operating Room trying to save his life ……... he never forgave himself when he passed away. He was so angry at the Administration, Doctors, and staff for their prissy attitude he decided it was time to retire. Unfortunately, retirement didn’t help him feel any better.

One morning, I went to his home to find him dressed in rags and his beard growing out, I asked him what was going on. He said to me, the only way he was going to feel better about losing that patient was to live like them, get them to trust him as a human being! Not as a Doctor. I couldn’t change his mind, he was determined.

I had to agree with him, he was finally smiling, something I had not seen for years. He had gone to the bank and withdrawn $20,000. He gave me his bank cards, checks everything and made me promise to come when he would call me and bring more money.

He swore that If his patient hadn’t already been in such poor health and suffering from malnutrition, he might have survived. He was going to live among them, care for them, feed them, hoping to bring some good into their lives.”

“No wonder he told me to mind my own business, he had a greater plan. Wow! Thank you, Dr. Westward. I wish there were more like you.” I mused as I hung up the phone.