I was sitting in the restaurant in my hotel today, having lunch. The people at the next table were speaking Spanish. I guess they felt safe talking about Nikki’s pregnancy, and what would happen if Socorro found out about it. After all, the woman at the next table was a blue-eyed blonde (me).
As I looked around this posh hotel, and listened to Nikki’s woes, I thought about Jose. I mentioned my “adventures” with Jose to someone last week, and he thought it sounded interesting. I think it was but, I was there.
Back in the “old days” when I first worked in home health, we had to go out at night to see patients. The powers that be called it “on call”; the staff who took call referred to it as “forced overtime.” Regardless of the label chosen, the outcome was the same: we were out at night for at least two hours, every time we took call. And call was mandatory.
I called Jose at about 4:00 pm. He was a man of few words, cautious and aloof on the phone. I told him I was coming out to see him to start his IV, and teach his caregiver to do the IV antibiotic administration, and daily wound care for his abdomen. He wanted to know how long it would take: I told him about 2 hours.
Then I asked for directions to his home. He gave me general directions to his apartment complex and told me I would be “met” at the parking lot entrance. He wanted to know how soon I would be coming and I told him I would be there in a couple of hours. He did not like that answer and told me to be there in “no more than one hour.”
I picked up wound care supplies from the storeroom; went to the infusion pharmacy to pick up the IV supplies; and I was headed out of town in less than 45 minutes. As I arrived at the apartment complex, I was greeted by a group of men in their early twenties; five of them standing there, waiting for me. The spokesman, Rico, motioned toward a parking spot for me. There was a car parked there already but, one of the young men ran ahead and moved it out of the spot. After I pulled in, he parked his car diagonally behind me. I guess I wasn’t going anywhere without them knowing about it,huh?
I told myself that I was glad to have the help: I had a box of IV supplies, an IV pole, an IV pump, a bag of wound care supplies, and my nursing bag to carry. I began handing things to each of the young men, except Rico: you don’t hand something to “the leader”. As I followed Rico toward the apartment complex, the other young men surrounded me. Anyone who tried to harm me would have to get through my “bodyguards” first!
Rico knocked a special knock on the apartment door. To my surprise, the door was answered by a world-weary young “man” of two. As the “man” took me around the corner to his daddy’s room, the gang disappeared from in front of the apartment.
In the bedroom, I was greeted by Jose; he flashed the one and only smile I ever saw from him. And then it was gone. His “wife” was attending to his every need. She must have been all of seventeen. She was a good little mommy, and obviously adored Jose. I found out very soon that she was also very bright and a quick learner.
As I was teaching Maria how to do the IV infusion, Jose kept hurrying me along: “she understands, keep going” he would prod. Thank goodness Maria was learning quickly! I was also thankful that I was able to start his IV on the first attempt; I‘m not sure he would have let me try again.
I went through the wound care teaching, too. And Jose prodded me to hurry with that, too. He was impatient with me and I did not know why. I was doing my best to teach them what they needed to know, in terms they could understand; I needed to be sure they could do it safely and correctly after I left.
When I was finished with the teaching, I asked Maria if she had any questions. Before she could answer, Jose said: “no, she’ll do fine. You need to leave now!” He picked up his cell phone and made a call. In an instant, I heard the same special knock, and the “little man” went out to answer the door.
As I left the apartment complex parking lot, Rico was in front of me, on a motorcycle. The rest of the young men were behind me, in a car. They took me through the south side of town, out the back road, and stayed with me until I was back on a familiar highway. It was nearly dark.
It wasn’t until I got home, and read the newspaper, that I understood Jose. Two young men were arraigned that same day on murder, and attempted murder charges. They were in jail. Two young men who had also been involved in the gang war were dead. Jose was badly wounded and will never walk again. The police were still looking for two other suspects in the multiple murders: one was named Rico.
I never saw Jose, or Rico, again. The powers that be decided it was too dangerous to send a nurse out there…..I was told to close the case.
No comments:
Post a Comment