Move over Puss in Boots

I worked in A ward yesterday, a new experience for me. Not surprisingly, a good portion of the shift was spent finding supplies for dressings, IV fluids, Ensure, and all of the other things that make the ward go 'round. It was fun, though! A ward is mostly plastics and ortho, so it was overflowing with kids (more than in D). One particular little boy thought the best spot of the house was on the floor in front. Indeed, he would be correct, but we were picking our steps around crayons, balls, and various other toys as we were trying to measure out medications, answer the phone, access the sink and fridge, or really do much of anything all day.

He was constantly under foot and demanding attention of some sort or another. And with a face like his, it's hard to shoo him away without a hug, a couple of kisses, and a pat on the bum. He loves to be held and swung around. Two moments will be forever in my mind. I admitted one patient post-op and assisted with another. Both times that little boy seemed to be everywhere. As we lifted the patient from the gurney to the bed, there he was trying to get on the gurney (he scored a ride). As I turned to cycle the blood pressure cuff, there he was staring at the patient. As we were getting report from the recovery room, there he was listening intently.

He's a small child, probably no more than a few years old. He knows what he wants- the glasses off your face, the pen you're writing with, whatever is just out of reach on the counter. He knows what he doesn't want- to be bothered with eating, to be kept in his bed in the corner, to have his dressings changed.

Sometimes it's easy to overlook the obvious fact that this little busybody has had surgeries on both hands and both feet. He was unleashed onto the ward with bandages on all four appendages. We call him BG... boots'n'gloves.