I promised a report on the relationship between pollution and asthma today, but I am going to have to defer that until Monday. It's been so crazy here at the RT Cave lately all my energy has been sucked out of me like the spirit of a dead man on an ER table after CPR.
I'm sure I mentioned somewhere on this blog about he ghost in critical care here at Shoreline. It's well documented now. There are stories about it that just about anyone who works here knows about. And many of us have seen it.
There have been nights when the door opens and shuts and opens and shuts all by itself, despite no breeze. It's amazing. Sometimes it even stands outside the door and watches over us.
We talk about it nonchalantly, as though it were another member of the staff. So as I was telling a personal story about my experience in that room, no one gave what I said a second thought.
This is the truth. I was standing there giving a treatment to Mrs. C. She had her eyes shut, so she was not witness to it. Or, if she did see it, she had probably seen stranger things in the room as she had perhaps become quite familiar with the spiritual host of the room.
I was looking at the TV, only the TV was no longer there. Instead I noticed another room off in the corner. My mind had been overcome by the moment, so I didn't second guess that the room was there. In my mind, I thought, "Why didn't I notice it before?"
I did a double take, and the room was still there. So I started around the bed to check out what was in this small room, and it was gone now. The TV was back. Everything was back to normal. And the treatment was still going.
I told this story to my co-workers, and they took me seriously. The Ghost in room B had made yet another appearance, albeit in an awkward way.
As I write this I wonder what the ghost was trying to tell me, or show me.