ry

PRIME TIME

The Amazon in Room 102

ospital work prepares one for al-

most anything. Or so I thought. I

was quite unprepared for the

woman in 102. I think she was one
of a kind, at least a first for our small
country hospital.

I had come back on pm’s after four days
off, so hadn’t seen the patient since her
surgery. She had evidently recovered much
faster than anticipated, al-

lady in question. It did nothing whatever to
dampen her ardour, and even added spice to
the chase.

“You have got to get me out of here,” he
pleaded.

We learned that she had taken to follow-
ing him when he tried escaping back to his
room, He was, he assured us, only totally
safe in the washroom. Something had to be

done.

though she had managed to

We spoke to the charge

convince her doctor other-

nurse about the situation.

ee thus prolonging her =, 6 denroc=

She was in a private near
the nursing station. It was a
pleasant room that caught
the afternoon sun. Or it did.
When I walked in, on rounds
after report, the blind was
drawn, shutting out the
warm summer sunshine.
Used to the stark white sim-

By IVY KENT

What was to be done? There
were no empty beds on sur-
gery, and the victim was not
yet ready for discharge. The
three of us stood at the desk
conspiring, and watching our
every move, silhouetted in
hot pink, in the doorway of
her room, was the lady in
question. Hers was almost a
threatening presence. She
stood well over six foot tall.

plicity of the hospital, I was
totally unprepared for the
glare of color that greeted me.
On the dresser stood two ornate boudoir
lamps complete with brass cupids. The hot
pink of their shades matched the ruffled bed
cover with its bright throw cushions, and
filled the room

She had aquiline features
and a square determined jaw. We weren't
about to appeal to her better instincts.

But something had to be done before
morning. We had a patient threatening to
discharge himself if we didn’t come up with

some form of solu-

with diffused light.

The air reeked
with some sort of
floral spary, and
from a radio came
the beat of calypso
music. Our pa-
tient, arrayed in
pink satin and
lace, sat in a chair
beside the bed
reading a novel.

When we left the
room I found my-
self at a temporary
loss for words.

“You should
have seen it yes-
terday,” said my
team partner. “It
was yellow.”

“What was yel-
low?”

“The shades, the
room the negli-
gee,” she said.
“And that’s not all.
She's taken to go-
ing down to the TV
room... I think she
has her cap set for.
one of our male pa-
tients.”

That evening I
met her in the
hall. She was un-
der full sail, chif-
fon billowing in
her wake as she
made her way
down to the
lounge. I wondered

tion.

The we found an
empty room down
at the end of Medi-
cine. We would use
that one until
morning, and then
the day staff could
deal with the prob-
lem.

So now, we had a
solution, but in or-
der to make it
work we had to get
our patient out of
his room, down the
long hallway,
around the nurs-
ing station and on
down into Medi-
cine, all without
alerting our ama-
zon in 102. And, as
luck would have it,
the lady had re-
fused her night-
time medication...1
think she sensed

afoot.

It must have
been close to mid-
night before we de-
cided it was safe to
make the move.
And then we al-
most got caught.

We were trans-

by wheelchair and
were halfway
down the dar-

who the victim
was, and fully intended to check it out, but
then things got busy and I didn’t have a
chance to satisfy my curiosity.

In fact, I didn’t think of it again until we

were settling everyone for the night. One of
the men asked if he could have a lock on his
door. It seems everyone had been teasing
him about being the object of our colorful
lady’s affection. He felt, he said, just like a
sparrow set upon by a falcon. He felt his
time was running out. The fact that he was
happily married, he said, was incidental to
the issue and didn’t weigh a tad with the

kened hall when
we saw a ray of pink light across the floor
ahead of us. The door of 102 was stealthily
opening. Well, two could play at that game,
so I whisked the wheelchair into a service
room and waited while my colleague ran
interference. She found that a current of air
had opened the door. There was no predator
waiting to pounce. :

The rest of the transer was accomplished
without incident.

The next day the color was chartreuse and
another sparrow was in danger. We had won
the battle but not the war.

This Week April 25, 1990. Page M5

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