Monday, January 19, 2015

flu season

It hit today. Over the weekend, really. They've been heading out to the hospital like a flock of startled birds. We care for them, and about them, and still the sickness visits us each winter, claiming the old and unaware, the good and the better. We feed them banana popsicles and chamomile tea, we let them stay in bed like I did when I was young and had high fevers, thrashing in my bed, clawing the sheets like I was being chased by a bear. We get them boxes of tamiflu and hope it is magic and all its cracked up to be, but we know and they know that this is the thinning of the herd. This is life. Its what happens. They all go to heaven. I'm certain of it.

The staff get masks and vitamin C and disposable yellow paper gowns and hand cleanser with glitter in it, pink and purple bottles they argue over at shift report. They are so good to come and to stay, considering the certainty of exposure.

This is the hardest time. 

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