Saturday, October 30, 2010

About a boy: part two

Another slow day in the emergency department.

Thirty minutes before my shift was scheduled to end, we finally got a patient. As the poor woman is retching and suffering from vertigo, I quickly become aware that there is a man staring at me. I glance at him, at his EMS clothing and go back to assisting the woman.

We're in small room, there's not a whole lot of people save the patient, her friend, the nurse, me and....this weird bearded guy who is obviously keeping an eye on me.


Blue dickies. White polo shirt. Student badge.

Return of the EMT student. (If you're confused, read my post from 09/25/10)

In my mind, this is all I could see
Except he has a beard. And I don't mean a beard, because most beards are okay in my book. What I mean is a BEARD. Like a "I haven't shaved in two decades" beard. As in "I can grow massive facial hair" beard. As in "whoa, I don't even recognize you" beard. If he were a fugitive on the run, it's a safe bet he'd get away with the crime.

In between our patient lying on the bed, shaking and retching and all sorts of glorious things, he oh so carefully says "hey how are ya?" and puts his hand on my back to "get around me", but really folks, there was no reason for touching my back unless.....he was trying to give me that dumb boy/girl thing of "I am aware of your existence but am trying to not show it too much"

All I can see though is his beard.
Let's just made it pretty easy to not make a fool out of myself this time. We conversed for a bit, had a nice chat about how we've been (pretty strange catching up with a virtual stranger), but he did ask me:
"Did you lighten your hair? It looks really nice"

Thanks to that beard, there was no more tachycardia, no more feeling flummoxed, no more blunders.

I win.

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