No Smoking

And so, there I was. My grand performance, my most challenging summer of all. The times that tried my soul. The best of times. The worst of times.

So I stood there at the Emergency entrance in my big, sore thumb uniform red-coat. Doing what I did best, I was standing out there, idle in the summer heat, MCAT flash-cards in my front pocket but not being glanced at. There was a nice elderly gentleman who drove a parking-lot shuttle (read: long-ass gas-powered golf cart). He did his job religiously, every weekday from 6AM to 3PM, meaning that I always saw him when he'd stop in front of the ED to relax. He was a great guy; handed out stuffed animals to children and stopped people to make light conversation.

Turns out he's an ex-CEO, and he was quite a successful one at that. He owned a huge RV factory in a lucrative area, drove one himself, and payed $600/month to use a Satellite phone (this was back in the 80s when they were OMG expensive). Somewhere along the line, business went bad or was bought out (he did not say) and he basically lost his fortune, becoming a relatively normal guy again. He loved telling me about his time in the Korean War. He loved griping about the reckless young teenagers he'd see walking into the ED. Just don't get him started on politics. He's opinionated and haughty - he'll talk your ear off...which I could afford, being a busy volunteer and all.

So, I forgot his name but we'll call him Earl for now. Earl had left to do his driving and I stood out there thinking about how long four hours is when you do nothing the whole time. As if from nowhere, a woman was standing but 6 feet to my left. Standing directly in front of the NO SMOKING sign, she stood there puffing away; a thin, shaky hand holding a smoldering cigarette. She had dirty-blond hair and dark, leathery, worn skin that made her look older than she probably was (she looked 50 but was probably 35).

I blinked and raised an eyebrow, slightly less-bored than usual, but still abysmally aware of each passing second.

Her other hand rested on her IV pole, which she had so kindly brought outside with her. She raised her cigarette-holding hand up to her lips, a long, wrinkly index finger pressing to her sun-burnt lips.

"Shhhhhhh!" She peered at me cheerfully through glazed eyes.

"You didn't see me out here! A girl needs her simple pleasures and nobody saw me, so I decided to take a little walk!" She huffed out another breath of smoke and took a few steps up the sidewalk, the IV pole obediently rolling along just in front of her.

I was highly amused, but also blank. Smoking while in the hospital seems crazy enough, but escaping with your IV pole and doing it in front of the NO SMOKING sign was just too much. I wish I had a camera. Oh, I've heard worse. I know there have been hospitalized methamphetamine addicts who escape to the parking lot so their "friends" can give them a quick fix. People can be desperate.

Being merely a not-employed-at-the-hospital volunteer, I smiled at her and nodded. I figured I had no responsibility to "stop" her. If someone was doing something blatantly horrendous, like stealing supplies or doing something illegal, I would contact the proper contacts. But this lady was doing her own thing and as far as I could consider, I didn't exist at the hospital, so she may as well have never been seen by me for real. And besides, when she strolled back through her unit, the nurses probably just smiled and waved at her, turned to each other and said, "there she goes...again."

Volunteering...a huge formality.