Page 13 of Alarm Fatigue

I suddenly feel significant tension in my shoulders and neck. In fact, I feel a bit trapped. My heart is pounding in my chest and I do not realize I am actually holding my breath until I hear the operator’s voice burst out of the overhead speakers.

“Attention in the hospital please. Adult code blue room 2115. Adult code blue room 2115.”

We drop our things on a nearby counter and wordlessly leave the lounge together, quickly headed for the stairs to the second floor.

As I follow Mark up the stairs I think that while I would never wish anyone harm, particularly a patient, I am grateful for the distraction, as I am not sure I am ready for his answer to my last question.

∞∞∞

Thank God we stayed busy the rest of the night. By the time the code finished and all the documentation was completed, the incoming staff was already waiting for us. The ICU office is so crowded this morning that the physician assistant taking over my shift for the day suggests that we meet in the room across the hall. I could kiss her for that but instead I just readily agree to this as it will shield me from Mark for the rest of the morning. While I am not sure what is happening between us, I am sure that I cannot trust my mouth, or my body, for that matter, to behave in a way that is suitable for work. There is little doubt at this point that I am physically drawn to him and I am starting to wonder if I am emotionally attracted to him as well. As I glance out the window I half expect to see pigs flying by.

Deciding not to test my ability any further to control myself around Mark, not only not to say anything I may regret but also in a desperate effort not to rush up to him and inhale his scent deeply, I decide to make my escape and just move on with my day. As I think these thoughts, I am practically running out of the hospital, having gathered all of my things and throwing them at random into my bag.

What I need is to go out on another date. As soon as possible. And maybe I should swap out all my shifts that are scheduled with Mark. It is entirely possible, however, that I am over-reacting. Maybe he uses that tone of voice with me all the time and I have just failed to process it before? Maybe I am just looking for something that is not there? I do not know what to think about any of this.

As I power walk to my car, I wonder if I have read something into the events of last night that is not based in reality. Maybe I am imagining there is a spark between Mark and me and what I am really feeling is just a reflection of my own loneliness. Well, that is just depressing. Additionally, it could just be that I am reacting to all of this forced extroversion and exposure to the opposite sex in social situations. I basically have gone from a virtual romantic life, lived out through a cast of characters from a variety of romcoms I watch on repeat, to actual interactions with live people. In real life people are so unpredictable. It could be my previously well-scripted and controlled love life is just so disrupted that I am seeing fire where there is only smoke. Honestly, I really do not know what to make of all of this. I do know I cannot wait to put this night behind me and get back to the familiarity of my home and my fur babies.

I love my well-meaning and meddlesome daughters and Amalie is practically a sister to me, but while I may not have been living my life the way they would have me, I was more comfortable before all this started. I certainly felt more in control, anyway. Once again, my entire body seems to heat as I recall, against my will, my face-plant into Dr. Mark Levy last night. I decide I will take a very cold shower when I get home. That will set me right. At least I hope so.

Chapter 11

I wake up to both my cats curled up around my head and promptly roll out of bed, extracting my hair from underneath Minerva. My first conscious thought is a quick prayer I say every time I wake, whether it is the morning or afternoon, which has been my habit for years now. I throw on some clothes and head down to the kitchen table to start my morning ritual. Just as my feet hit the floor, however, I can already feel my apprehension about the interactions with Mark last night rebuilding and reshaping in my brain. I fix myself a mug of tea and sit with my prayer books

Usually, there is something about saying my morning devotions that calms me, but today just does not seem to be that day. Since just after Eli died I became more dedicated to the daily habit of a prayer life. At first I did this in the hope that I could ground myself to the task of being the mother my children needed, despite my pain. It started, inevitably, with saying things to God as I thought of them, but over time I began to build a habit of routinely saying a series of prayers that Jewish people have said daily since time out of mind. Thank God, it really did help. Two of my girls were only in high school when Eli left us so suddenly, and Gavi, my eldest, had just started college. I think a part of me could not live with the reality of facing those girls and what had happened to their father without the rituals of my faith.

My favorite prayer is one thanking God for restoring my soul to me, which typically has the most settling effect on my nerves. When I say that particular prayer, it brings to mind the times in my life when I felt I had to separate myself from reality in order to survive. Being able to feel safe in my life enough to be mentally and emotionally present may seem like a right to most people, but it is one that I was not always privileged to have.

Once I am done with my prayers today, however, all of my feelings from the last evening start to encroach again. Not sure what to do with that, I shift gears into cleaning mode. I set about scouring everything in my kitchen as if Pesah was around the corner.

This is a thinly veiled effort to gain back emotional control of myself. My God, when did I cross the line with so much therapy that I cannot enjoy some constructive avoidance without over-analyzing myself? Maybe I just want to clean my kitchen because I should, like a normal person?

Trying to tell myself I really just need to stay on top of the housekeeping and that I am not actually avoiding anything, I hear the ring tone that tells me one of my children is calling in my earbud. I answer without hesitation, relieved to stop the imminent spiral I am on the precipice of. Not for the first time, I wish my head came with an on and off switch. That would be so useful.

Gabriella’s face pops up my screen and I smile.

Gabriella is my eldest child. She is a bit taller than me with dark curly hair that she keeps covered with a scarf or a ball cap. She has large, green eyes framed by her father’s long gorgeous lashes. On my screen the photo I have saved to her contact is adorable. In it she is sporting a red ball cap that makes her green eyes pop.

“Eema. Hi. Have you decided if you are able to join us for Shabbat?”

I can hear she is in her van; my grandchildren’s voices are speaking over each other in the background.

“Hi Gavi. Yes, of course I will be there. I am looking forward to it. You and David off on the same weekend that I am? All of us together—how can I miss such an opportunity?”

My daughter, as an office-based family medicine physician in actuality does not often have to take call on the weekend. But David, her husband, frequently travels for work on a schedule outside of his control. Put that together with my irregular schedule—which does include two weekends a month—and it does not always work out for me to be there to enjoy all of us together. “Did you have a chance to invite Hannah or Lila?”

“Eema, if you retired or worked part time, you would have more weekends free. I know you don’t want to hear it so I won’t say anything.” I do not point out that she just did say something, because this is her way of absolving herself for nagging me. “And yes, of course I invited everyone. Hannah is planning to come over early to help me get organized and Lila said that she and Kim would come up for Friday dinner and then go home, but return for Shabbat lunch.”

I smile to myself. I love it so very much that all of my children have found in life what is meaningful to them without the price tag of judging what the other sisters are doing (or not doing) with their own lives. I say a prayer of thanks to God for my eldest daughter and her husband’s unconditional love of my middle child, Lila, and her wife. Not to discount that Lila and Kim are open and accepting of David and Gavi’s choices as well. I could not imagine having two children more opposite in personality, let alone their life choices, yet for each of them the love of family surpasses all other things. I know that this is not possible for everyone to reconcile. I have met people with similar family dynamics and it can be heart-breaking for everyone involved when one person’s personal decisions involve a concept of “my way or the highway.” I understand where those people are coming from, but am just so grateful it is not a part of our lives.

“Wonderful. God willing, I will see you Friday, and please let me bring dessert.”

“Sure, Eema. By the way, how is all this dating going so far?” Her real reason for calling, I am sure.

“What do you mean all this? I have literally been on two dates. And if you really want to know, it has been incredibly unsettling.” It was out of my mouth before I think about the wisdom of sharing this much information and I close my eyes wondering how I could explain unsettling in a way that does not involve the revival of my sex drive to my most conservative and traditional daughter.

“Good. Unsettling you was the exact point.” I hear shrieking as two of my grandchildren start to argue in the back seat of the van. “That’s my cue to hop off. I love you and good bye, and God willing, we will see you Friday.”

Returning my focus back to cleaning, I start to plan what to make for dessert. Going to David and Gavi’s for Shabbat is a whole thing of course. I will need to pack an overnight bag with something to wear to shul, and now that my grandchildren are old enough to make demands on their Grandma, there will be no sleeping late Saturday morning, of this I am certain. I move on from cleaning the kitchen and decide to vacuum the couches extensively, removing all traces of cat hair, for now anyway.

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