Night Admissions Shala Erlich (bio) Click for larger view View full resolution Image by moca [End Page 52] Lily walks in the door without knocking and right away asks the hovering boyfriend to leave the room. “Boyfriend” is maybe not the best label; better to think of him the way the OB/GYN folks like to write in their chart notes, as the FOB. Father of the Baby. He’s wearing dirty jeans and a dirtier yellow T-shirt, looks like he’s about nineteen, antsy and unsure of his role. A real FOB, Lily thinks. On the other hand, she sympathizes. Getting his girlfriend pregnant wasn’t the best move, but this much drama before the baby has shown up seems like extra. [End Page 53] “I’ll find you when we’re done here, thirty or forty minutes,” Lily tells him, gesturing with her clipboard toward the hallway. Even though they are deep into the night, the ER is humming with voices and pagers and IV alarms. There was a quiet spell, truly like magic, around nine, but when Lily called her husband, Daniel said, “I’m trying to get Nora on a regular bedtime, and besides, what’s the point now?” Daniel was so loyal and sweet all through the first year, bringing Nora to Lily for breastfeeding sessions in any available interlude, day or night, and in any random call room or broom closet they could find, like a three-way love affair. But tonight there will be no sneaked visit with Nora in the ER family room. ________ “Go on,” says the pale young woman in the bed when the FOB stops in the doorway and gives her a backward look. “I know you can’t think about anything but having a smoke anyways.” The door closes behind him, and she settles herself prettily in the bed. Looks at Lily with expectation. A pink teddy bear with blue gum-ball eyes on the bed next to her stares at Lily too. A funny thing, that even psych patients are put to bed in the ER. The depressed ones stay in bed; the manic or psychotic ones usually don’t. Lily suppresses a twinge of jealousy that her patient gets to lie down. Is she even my patient, Lily wonders, just because she arrived during my shift? “Suicidal thoughts,” the nurse had said with disapproval. “Pregnant and suicidal”! Lily sits up straighter on her stool, takes her pen out of her chest pocket, and clicks the point out. “So. April. Tell me what’s going on?” April starts to cry. She has long, untended hair and big blue-gray eyes, mostly squinched shut right now, and bad teeth, overlapping and discolored. Lily waits, looking her over in the harsh lighting without saying anything, and April pulls herself together, sort of. “I’m just done!” “Done with what?” “You don’t care!” “I don’t care about what?” “Nobody cares! Even my baby doesn’t care.” Now this is possibly interesting. What does April imagine her baby is feeling? “How can you tell?” [End Page 54] But she starts crying again. What a mess. Interviewing her—it’s like trying to direct a snake. April keeps poking her head in some other direction with a reptilian bright-eyed look, yet her gaze is depthless. Lily peers into her face, trying to figure her out, to connect with her in some small way, but she is not there. The stuff she tells Lily is so vague and slippery and self- contradictory that Lily can’t hold on to it for more than a few minutes. Also, she can’t get images of Nora out of her mind. The way Nora twisted her fingers through Lily’s hair and then, without detaching from Lily’s nipple, turned her head toward Daniel if he spoke. Lily’s chest hurts, and her eyes sting. Her scrubs are tight around her hips and crotch; she makes a subtle adjustment on her stool, then grips her pen tighter and plows onward. ________ After a while, April goes back to accusing Lily of not caring. “I care about figuring out what we’re...
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