I had no idea who was
in the treatment room, or why. I pushed the curtains aside, stepped into room
and was immediately overwhelmed by an oppressive, sickening odor coming from
the crumpled dirty figure lying on the gurney. I am ashamed to say that my first reaction was to think,
“I’m glad I’m not the nurse who has this room”.
Like so many of our
homeless patients, Walter was brought to the ER by the local police. He apparently sought relief from
the severe weather by crawling into a dumpster to sleep, only to be rudely
awakened when the garbage truck began lifting the unit to collect the trash. He had enough presence of mind to know
what was happening and quickly scrambled up and out of his now moving
abode. Unfortunately he was a good
10 feet above ground when he exited, and thus he became our guest.
The next time I parted
the curtains and looked into the room, Walter was standing by the gurney
sporting the one size fits all hospital gown washing himself with the help of
one of the many angels working in the ER as registered nurses. The odor was now tolerable and his
clothing was nowhere to be seen.
Walter had a head full
of wild looking hair that did not fit with the chagrined, embarrassed look on
his face. Clearly he was ashamed
of his situation. He appeared to
be in no distress or pain and we were surprised when his x-rays revealed
non-displaced radial fractures of both fibula. It was our turn to be chagrined for having him stand and
wash himself.
Like most of the
homeless that we saw in the ER, Walter was humble, polite, and very
appreciative of all that was done.
I will never forget the image of him standing there dripping wet from his
sponge bath. Nor will I forget the
smell the first time I walked into that exam room.
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