Posted by: alainnneart | July 10, 2009

May you find some comfort here. (part I of being on call)

I hate being on call.  I do.  It’s not that the pager can go off anytime, day or night, and you are dealing with emergencies or hysterical people (in most cases both), but the fact that after 24 hours of on call, I feel like a lead balloon in a deep lake.

it’s exhausting.  this time around it was no different.  Five major emergencies (and I do mean MAJOR) to deal with, starting at 330am.  Times like these, it’s hard to be a single parent.  Luckily for me, my neighbors really pitch in.  they are all younger kids, in school mostly, and know that I may knock on their doors at odd hours.  Most of them are in med school or pre-med, so they just assume that the strange wake up calls are “good practice”. I also pay well, and that is always a blessing when you are living on cheap cafeteria food and coffee that is just water dressed in brown.

This morning was no different when I walked to my neighbor’s house at 330am and rang the bell.  John, a medical student in his late twenties, stumbled to the door in his sweatpants and no shirt.  He is tall, muscular, brown haired cut short with freckles dancing across his nose.  His green eyes are piercing, even when masked in sleep.  I must admit, I have a crush.


“paged,” I responded, more of a statement then an agreement.  He smiled “give me five”.  I walked home and quickly put on my jeans and tee shirt.  My tattoos showed through the fabric, but I didn’t care.  When I walked out of the bathroom, John had let himself in.  I think it’s adorable he still sleeps with his teddy bear.

John made himself comfortable in my bed.  I grabbed my wallet, keys and ID and walked out into the darkness.  I love SF at night.  There is something stunning about the way the fog masks everything.  You have to be up really late or very early to watch it roll on it’s path through the Golden Gate, past the persideo, and watch it envelop the city like a murky haze.  It’s almost magical.

It’s also very still.  there are no real sounds, perhaps a low hum of the traffic that is scarce on the main roads.  The night is littered with taxis, a few drunken laughter emulating from one, the bars finally closing.  People are calm, sleeping blissfully away in their warm beds.

There is so much more I want to say but I am tired, so this is now to be continued.


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