Posted on by jparadisirn

It Will Be Good For All of Us

Chapter 77

Taking respite from these intense memories, I get up to refill my coffee mug. Through the kitchen window, I notice the tulip tree across the street is in bloom. Then, I notice my free hand resting at the base of my neck, the way it does when I’m at work, trying to figure out what to do next for my patient’s comfort.

I return to my armchair, and resume writing in my journal.

I remind myself that my parents were younger than I am now when Joel died. As a PICU nurse, I believe there are few fates, if any, worse than losing a child. Most parents I’ve encountered have told me they would do anything to take the place of their child in the hospital bed, and I’ve believed everyone of them.

For awhile, my parents were completely lost after Joel’s death, overwhelmed by their grief. I wasn’t allowed to go to his funeral, though I begged. Instead, I was left with a babysitter. I cried the whole time. My grandparents picked me up from the sitter’s house, and took me back home after everything was over.

In the weeks that followed, my father spent more and more time at work, earning overtime to help pay off the accumulated medical bills. My mother became a ghost of herself, spending much of her days in bed, barely speaking. My grandmother stayed with us another week after the funeral, getting groceries, making meals, and coaxing mom to eat. Before she left us, Grandma stocked our refrigerator, and made multiple casseroles which she froze for Dad to reheat when he came home from work. Often he was home late, however, so I made myself peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner. When Dad realized this was happening, he showed me how to heat in the microwave small portions of the casseroles that he put out in the morning to thaw. I tried to get Mom to eat some too, like Grandma did, but she never would.

Grandma came to visit often. She and Mom had long talks in her bedroom with the door closed. I couldn’t hear what they said, but often I heard either Mom, or both of them, crying.

Grandma taught me to make my bed, and how to dust. I hoped Mom would see I was taking good care of us when Dad was at work, and it would help her get better.

I was in 4th grade when Mom and Dad announced I was going to have a baby brother or sister. They made sure I understood that another baby would never replace our Joel, who would live forever in our hearts, but they felt that it was time to grow our family with the addition of another child. “it’ll be good for all of us, don’t you think, Niki?”

I didn’t know what to think. I hoped Joel wouldn’t think I didn’t love him anymore. I prayed, hoping he could hear me in heaven.

Posted on by jparadisirn

I Thought Only Old People Died

Chapter 76

“Can I refill your coffee, Dad?”

“Sure sweetheart. Thanks”

Dad and I are drinking coffee this morning in my kitchen. Mom was up before either of us, did her morning yoga and meditation, and is now taking a walk to the neighborhood park.

“How’s Mom doing, you think?”

“Well, the news you were held hostage at gunpoint in the hospital shocked both of us. Neither of us could handle losing another child. Thank God, it didn’t happen.” Dad pauses, and looks at the ceiling, but not before I see he’s blinking back tears.

“I think she’s going to be okay, Niki. Just give her time to process. You know how she gets.”

Yeah, I know how Mom gets.

Later, Mom is busy cleaning the kitchen, and Dad has gone to a gym. I sit down with my journal. The therapist suggested I write down my thoughts. This morning, my thoughts are about my parents, and Joel:

Like I said, I was six when Joel was born, and I adored being his big sister. He was named after my grandpa. Joel was cherubic, with pale skin, and blue eyes that lightened and darkened with his mood, like the sea. He laughed easily, and was almost always smiling.

When he cried, I would race to get to his crib before my mom. I wanted him to know I would always be there for him. I loved pretending he was my child.

Joel was walking, just after his first birthday. He grew and thrived until the middle of his second year. Gradually, he became fussy, and less easy to console. He was a picky eater, and lost weight. Mom took him to the pediatrician, who assured her his behaviors were part of The Terrible Twos.

A few weeks before second birthday, Joel fell while standing in front of the TV. When he stood back up, he wobbled when he walked. Joel fell again, and then he threw up. I was scared. I called for Mom, who was in the kitchen, doing dishes.

Mom called Dad at work, and told him she was taking Joel to the emergency room. He met her there. Then she called our neighbor, who came over to watch me.

I was scared. I prayed that God would make Joel better.

When they came home, my parents told me Joel had a cancer in his brain, and he was going to need surgery. They said they needed to stay with him at the hospital when he had the surgery, and I was going to have to be a brave girl while they were away. My grandparents came to stay with me.

When my parents came home from the hospital with Joel after his surgery, I thought everything was going to be okay. I was extra careful to be gentle with him.

But Joel wasn’t okay. There were more doctor appointments. He had chemotherapy and radiation appointments. At home, Mom held him almost all of the time, even while he slept. Dad took over cooking dinner when he came home from work. On the days Joel and Mom stayed in the hospital, Dad went there after work, and sometimes stayed the night too.

Grandma and Grandpa stayed with us a lot. They drove me to school, and back. Grandma made me bagged lunches in sacks decorated with cute stickers. They listened to me practice reading, and spelling. They bought me presents, even though it wasn’t my birthday.

I waited for Joel to get better, but he didn’t. Dad started taking me to the hospital with him in the evenings to visit Joel at the hospital. Sometimes I had to wear a mask to see him. He was puffy, and didn’t look or act Iike Joel. I closed my eyes when I was prompted by my parents to kiss him on the forehead.

One day, Grandpa picked me up from school. I chattered away in the car, and Grandpa would smile, but his eyes looked sad.

At our house, the living room curtains were drawn closed. The room was dark. Dad, who was usually at work, was sitting in his chair. Mom sat on the sofa. Grandma sat next to her, her arms around Mom. All of them were crying.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Dad said.

I was afraid, but I didn’t know of what. I knew something really bad had happened. I couldn’t move.

“Niki, come here,”

I walked across the room to my Dad. He put me in his lap.

“Niki, sweetheart, your baby brother, Joel, died at the hospital today. He’s in Heaven now, and he’s not suffering anymore.”

I burst into tears.

“But why did he die?” I was furious. “How did he die?”

“Niki, Joel was very sick. Sweetheart, you knew he was sick. You knew he was going to the doctor’s all the time. We took you to visit him. He had a brain tumor.”

“But I didn’t know he was going to die. I didn’t know babies could die. I thought only old people died. I didn’t know I was never going to see him again. Am I going to die?”

My father held me tightly, and cried into my hair.

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Cards and Flowers

Chapter 75

The doorbell rings, and Mom goes to the door. Since the Code Silver event, I’ve avoided contact with people other than my family. I don’t want to make small talk, or any talk, really.

“It’s another flower arrangement,” Mom says, carrying a striking arrangement of irises and fern fronds. “Where should I put this one?”

“Let me see it first. Who’s it from?” It’s an elegant arrangement of irises, fern, and baby’s breathe in an artisan glass vase. I reach for the small envelope tucked in, and open it.

“We miss you girl. Look forward to getting together again soon. Love, Gerald”

“Aw, it’s from Gerald. He’s my respiratory therapist friend at the hospital. This is so sweet of him.” I look around for a place to put this arrangement among all of the others, and the “thinking of you” cards covering the shelf of the media center, coffee and dining room tables. I find a place for it on the kitchen island, next to the largest arrangement of all, sent from my PICU coworkers. I should text one of them, and let them know how I’m doing, but I don’t know what to say. I feel too fragile yet, and I don’t like it.

Before she and Grant left, Raquel scheduled an appointment with the counselor the hospital social worker referred me to, for next week. I’m not sure I feel comfortable talking about myself with a therapist, but maybe it’ll be okay.

Mom’s words snap me out of my reverie, “All of these flowers and cards make me think of Joel.” She looks wistful, and sad. I try to gage the depth her emotional status, and sense it’s okay to engage. “Me too, Mom. This whole thing makes me think of Joel. I love you, Mom.”

I’m not sure she heard me. Her arms are wrapped around her shoulders. She’s staring out the window at something I cannot see.

Posted on by jparadisirn

We Need Each Other, After All

Chapter 74

Today, my parents arrived. They need to spend time with me since the hostage event at the hospital. The trauma of the situation has an impact on everyone I love.

My mom is a beautiful woman. She’s always beautiful, even when her eyes are red and puffy from crying. When she cries, I think of Michelangleo’s Pieta.

She enters my house, with Dad at her side. Despite the smile on her face, it’s obvious she’s been crying. Her eyes are demurely pink around their edges, and slightly puffy.

The moment I see the two of them, I start crying too. We hug tightly, the way people who nearly lost each other do; the way people do when they know life can change, and change you, in the blink of an eye.

I think of La Pieta.

Breaking our embrace, I do an assessment.

Mom’s long, pale hair is pulled away from her face with a barrette. Aging, the years only seem to add to her grace: Her once thin face with its high cheekbones, now padded with a few pounds of extra weight, has rounded out along its edges, making her look less fragile; stronger rather than older. I feel reassured by this.

My mom is an artist. She’s had exhibitions in many galleries, and people buy her paintings. Over the years, she’s become quite well known.

Dad has barely changed at all. An exercise fanatic, he’s the same weight he was at 25. He still fits into the suit he wore when he married mom. There’s a few more lines of worry around the corners of his eyes, and a new furrow between his brows. His hair has a bit more silver in it than when I last saw him.

“Maria Nicola,” Mom begins, holding out her arms for another hug. She must have seen me wince at my full name; she pivots: “My Niki,” and then her tears resume. “My God, Niki!”

I step forward and hug her again. “I know Mom, I know. I’m okay, really. I’m okay.”

I’m glad my parents are here. We need each other, after all.

Posted on by jparadisirn

Celebrate Nurses All Month! Nurses Get 15% Off Order of Fire Department Coffee While Helping #EndNurseAbuse

Hi, Niki here. Happy Nurses’ Day to my colleagues everywhere!

Everyone knows coffee is a nurse’s best friend. A good cup of coffee warms the soul, and jumpstarts my day.

I want to share with you a special gift for Nurse’s Month: In celebration of Nursing Week, Fire Department Coffee is offering a 15% discount on any purchase to nurses during May. Use promo code NURSE15 at checkout. 

  Fire Department Coffee features a wide variety of freshly roasted coffee including The Original Medium Roast, Light Roast, Dark Roast, Donut Shop, Backdraft Espresso and a Spirit-Infused line with Bourbon, Rum, Tequila, Irish Whiskey infused coffees. I sampled the Vanilla Bourbon, and Dark Roast. Both were flavorful and rich, with a smooth finish. For more information, please visit firedeptcoffee.com

Fire Department Coffee Partners with The American Nurses Association to #EndNurseAbuse

Fire Dept. Coffee is dedicating the month of May, which is National Nurses Month, to supporting the American Nurses Association (ANA), the premier organization representing the interests of the nation’s more than 4.2 million nurses. Throughout the month, Fire Dept. Coffee is giving customers the option of adding a donation to support ANA’s #EndNurseAbuse campaign to stop workplace violence and abuse against nurses.

The campaign focuses on raising awareness of violence and harassment against nurses in the workplace, to encourage the reporting of violent incidences, and to strengthen ‘zero-tolerance’ policies through multi-faceted strategies, position statements, calls-to-action, and grassroots efforts that influence public policy and legislation. Through ANA’s work on #EndNurseAbuse, the U.S. House passed the Workplace Violence Prevention for Health Care and Social Service Workers Act (H.R. 1195) on April 16.

“Every nurse deserves to feel safe and protected in the workplace. Any level of violence or abuse is wholly unacceptable and should not be tolerated. ANA’s #EndNurseAbuse campaign was developed to support nurses to ensure that every health care setting and health system are safe work environments for nurses. We extend a heartfelt thank you to Fire Department Coffee for their valued partnership and support on this critical issue. A health care system that works for all Americans is a health care system that values nurses. Together we can #EndNurseAbuse,” said Senior Policy Advisor for Nursing Practice & Work Environment at ANA, Ruth Francis, MPH, MCHES.

According to a 2019 survey, more than half of respondents have said they have been verbally assaulted and 1 in 4 have reported being physically assaulted in the workplace. According to these statistics, health care workers are exposed to violence at a higher rate than prison guards or police officers.

“Nurses and other health care professionals deserve to be treated with the utmost respect at all times,” Fire Dept. Coffee Founder and CEO Luke Schneider said. “By joining with the American Nurses Association, we are expressing our support and inviting our customers to do the same so that we can play a role in improving these unacceptable statistics.”

When customers place an order during the month of May on FireDeptCoffee.com, they will see a message offering the opportunity to include with their purchase a donation to support the #EndNurseAbuse campaign. Each donation helps support ANA’s efforts to advocate for the safety of nurses and to work with health care organizations to initiate safety protocols that protect nurses, so they can protect their patients.

ANA is observing National Nurses Month for the second year, in an effort to expand recognition of nurses’ vital position in transforming health care, even in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. The evolution from Nurses Week (May 6-12) to Nurses Month is a meaningful way to allow for greater engagement, participation, and appreciation of nurses by many stakeholders, growth that will occur over several years.

About Fire Department Coffee

Launched in 2016, Fire Department Coffee is veteran-owned and run by firefighters with the mission to make great coffee and an even greater mission to support our nation’s heroes in need. Ten percent of the net proceeds go to help first responders who are injured on the job, mentally or physically, or who are facing other serious health challenges. Fire Department Coffee features a wide variety of freshly roasted coffee including The Original Medium Roast, Light Roast, Dark Roast, Donut Shop, Backdraft Espresso and a Spirit-Infused line with Bourbon, Rum, Tequila, Irish Whiskey infused coffees. For more information, please visit firedeptcoffee.com.

About the American Nurses Association (ANA)

The American Nurses Association (ANA) is the premier organization representing the interests of the nation’s 4.2 million registered nurses. ANA advances the profession by fostering high standards of nursing practice, promoting a safe and ethical work environment, bolstering the health and wellness of nurses, and advocating on health care issues that affect nurses and the public. ANA is at the forefront of improving the quality of health care for all. For more information, visit www.nursingworld.org

About Nurses Month

Honoring our nation’s nurses is more profoundly significant during the COVID-19 pandemic, which makes this month of recognition in May even more important. Whether it is a national health emergency or routine daily care, nurses’ vital contributions impact the health and well-being of our communities, which is why ANA selected the theme for May as Nurses Make a Difference. To honor nurses and support the nursing profession, ANA will promote weekly themes and activities. While continued physical distancing may limit our face-to-face activities, we encourage everyone to think of creative ways to virtually engage. The month will be divided into four weekly focuses: Self-care, Recognition, Professional Development, and Community Engagement.

To request samples for media, contact Madeline Hayes

(779) 772-4707

madeline@firedeptcoffee.com

Posted on by jparadisirn

I Guess We’re Going to Find Out

Chapter 73

I’ve been home for three days now. Maddie stayed home from school too, but I think she’s comfortable that I’m safe now, and wants to go back to being with her friends.

Raquel and Grant are staying in the guest room. Grant handles all media inquiries with an authoritative, “No comments at this time.” Raquel took all household tasks from me, and cooks a meal when take-out doesn’t sound appealing.

Honestly, I’m grateful to let them take charge. I’m not sleeping very well. It takes a long for me to drift off, and once I do, I’m wakened by horrible nightmares: sometimes Frank has me up against the wall, with his fingers around my throat, instead of Liz. Or, I am forced to pull the plug to Nathan’s ventilator from the wall, only to discover it’s Maddie in the hospital bed, screaming silently.

The ER doctor gave me a prescription for Ativan. I take one before going to bed, but it doesn’t work.

I’ll need the Ativan soon though. My parents are arriving any day now to relieve Raquel and Grant. I begged them not to come, but they insist.

Don’t get me wrong; I love my parents. I really do. Our family isn’t unusual for having some dysfunction, but as Tolstoy pointed out, “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

Once upon a time we were a happy family.

I was six years old when my brother Joel was born. It was just like getting a living baby doll. I quickly adapted to the role of big sister, or more accurately, self-appointed co-mother.

I sat near (my mother would say, practically on) him all of the time. When mom nursed him, I sat beside her, shirt up, with my baby doll held against my bare chest in imitation. I got so close up when mom changed his diaper that more than once I was hit in the face with a stream of his urine. Whenever mom let me hold him, I was ecstatic with love for my tiny, baby brother with curly black hair…

“Hey Niki, you’ve been journaling with that faraway look in your eyes for awhile now. Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

I put down my journal and pen. “No, thanks Raquel. I’m okay. I’m writing about Joel. I guess Mom and Dad’s visit is making me think about him.”

Raquel tenses and pales. The corners of her mouth and eyes slacken a bit.

“Honey, are you sure it’s a good idea to dwell on that right now? I have the phone number of the therapist the social worker gave us. Would you like me to schedule an appointment for you?”

“No Raquel, really, I’m okay. I’m sorry for upsetting you. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s okay, Niki. I’ve been thinking about Joel too. I hope Mom’s doing okay.”

“I guess we’re going to find out.”

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I’d Like to Go Home Now

Chapter 72

Simon, and Grant are standing by my gurney. Raquel is seated precariously on its edge, holding my hand. The IV saline bag is nearly empty. The nurse comes back to check my IV, and takes my blood pressure.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Calmer, with the lorazepam on board. When can I go home?”

“Medically, you’re probably good to go, but I’ve been instructed not to discharge you until the police say it’s okay. I don’t know if they’re going to file your report now, or later.”

Just then, a woman in business attire enters the tent. She’s carrying a clipboard with papers, and a pen.

“Niki, I can’t tell you how relieved everyone is that this is over, and all of you survived. We’ve been very concerned about your wellbeing.”

“Everyone didn’t survive. Frank didn’t survive. I saw him shot in the head.”

“No, of course; I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I realize this has been horribly traumatic for everyone involved. I’m Jane Merger. I’m a resource manager from HR, and human resource liaison during your leave of absence that I assume you’ll want to take as you recover from this, um, event. Here’s my business card.”

“Thank you, Jane.”

She hands me a card. I take it with the same hand that’s holding Mike’s business card. I look at them blankly.

“Here, I’ll keep those for you, Nik. I’ll start taking notes and keeping track of your paperwork,” says Raquel.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be in touch with you through email, and by phone, Niki. Don’t hesitate to contact me when you have questions. We don’t need to do anything about forms right now, except I do need you to sign this nondisclosure agreement between you and the hospital. We would like you to refrain from speaking with the media about this, um, event. That includes posting about it on your social media sites, like Facebook.” Jane reaches to hands me the clipboard, and a pen. Grant intercepts it.

“Hi Jane, I’m Grant, Niki’s brother-in-law, and legal counsel. I’m going to insist that Niki doesn’t sign any agreements at this time. I will be reviewing all legal agreements between the hospital and my client. Here’s my business card.”

Grant hands back the clipboard to Jane, along with his business card.

I’m beginning to realize that although the crisis is over, my life has changed.

“I’d like to go home now.”

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A Throat Clears

Chapter 71

Simon steps forward, “Niki, thank God you’re okay. We were so worried.”

“Simon, where’s Maddie? Is she here? Does she know what happened?”

“She’s at home with Amber. Maddie knows there is an active shooter alert on the floor you work on. She knows you’re involved, and that a SWAT team has arrived to rescue you. Other than that, Amber has taken away her cellphone, kept her off of the Internet, and the TV. I’ve updated Amber by text with what little information we’ve had. We decided she and I were the ones to tell Maddie if…”

Simon doesn’t finish his sentence. Again, there’s that awkward silence.

The realization that everyone who loves me thought I might not survive being held hostage by Frank sinks in. I fight back the tears, letting the sedative the doctor gave me do its work, and drift off a bit.

A throat clears. Behind Simon, is Officer, I mean, Mike.

“Simon, Raquel, Grant, this is Mike. He’s a friend of mine from work.”

The trio nod their heads towards Mike. Grant shakes Mike’s hand

“Thank you for all you’ve done for my sister,” says Raquel.

“The SWAT team are the ones to thank. I was just holding place. Um, Niki, I’m going to leave you now with your family and husband.”

“My ex-husband. We share a daughter.”

“Ex-husband, then. Um, I’d like to check in with you in a few days, if you don’t mind, if that’s okay? Just check in and see how you’re doing, if you need anything. Here’s my business card. You can call me too, if something comes up I can help with”

He hands me the card. Officer Michael Elligsen. Mike Elligsen. It’s a nice name.

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At The Time I didn’t Know Either

Chapter 70

The nurse comes back. “You have a few visitors. “

Raquel rushes into the makeshift bay, and tries to hug me as best she can while I lay on the gurney. Following close behind are Grant, and Simon, escorted by Officer, I mean, Mike

“Raquel, Grant, how did you get here? And Simon?”

“You listed me with the hospital as your emergency contact,” says Raquel. “They called me. It just happened Grant had a legal conference in LA today, and I came along to do some shopping. We weren’t far when I got the call. Oh, Niki…” Raquel starts to cry. I look for a box of tissues, but don’t see one. I let it go.

“Then I called Simon. I called Mom and Dad too. I’ll call again later and let them know I talked to you. If I call them now, we’ll never get either of them off of the phone.”

“Oh God, Mom and Dad know?”

“I had to call them Niki, after I found out. It was too serious for me to wait. I didn’t know if…”

Raquel doesn’t finish the sentence. I know what it was she didn’t know.

At the time, I didn’t know, either.

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There Must Have Been Some Kind of Disaster

Chapter 69

“Niki, are you okay? Did he hurt you?

“Officer Mike?”

“Mike, yeah. It’s just Mike. Officer isn’t part of my name.”

I let that sink in for a moment, before beginning to tremble violently. Officer Mike, I mean Mike, looks concerned, and grasps me by both elbows.

“I need a wheelchair over here now!” he shouts.

“Hey, that’s my line.” I try to smile, and then I realize he’s calling the wheelchair for me. A nurse brings one, just before my legs buckle out from under me.

Mike runs alongside the wheelchair, while the nurse rapidly pushes it to one of those medi-surg tents set up in the hospital parking lot. Off to the sides are reporters with cameras flashing, held back from the tent by armed men in fatigues.

There must have been some kind of disaster while I was in the room with Frank.

With Frank…Frank’s dead. He had a gun pointed at my head. He wanted me to euthanize Nathan. He held me hostage…hostage. Oh my God, Frank is the disaster!

Suddenly, I’m sweaty and nauseous. I my vision starts getting black at the edges, as though I’m looking through a telescope.

“Get her out of the chair and on the gurney! Start an IV and hang NS! Get her supine, she’s passing out!”

On the gurney, I barely feel the IV poke. The NS is chilly in my vein. I’m shivering. The nurse who got the wheelchair has a warmed blanket, which she places over me. It feels nice. “Better?” she asks, while taking my blood pressure and temperature.

“Yes, the warm blanket feels good.”

A doctor introduces herself, but already I’ve forgotten her name. “Niki, are you hurt anywhere? Did he assault you in anyway?”

I feel sick again when I realize what she means.

“No, no he never touched me. He had a gun pointed at my head. He slammed Liz up against a wall though, she’s unconscious…Oh no! Where’s Liz? Is Liz okay? What about Nathan? Are they okay?”

I start to cry.

The doctor takes my hand, and with the other wipes the hair from my forehead. “They’re in separate bays. We’re checking them over for injuries now. Liz is conscious. She’s getting a CT. Nathan is sedated. He’s going to be fine.”

She examines me, and then asks, “Niki, would you like something for anxiety, something to calm you?”

“Yes.”

I feel warm as the medication does its job.