I was going to write part 6 of what does it mean to be called in.
But this is more important.
19 children are dead.
Yesterday, May 24, 2022, a gunman walked into an elementary school that was near his high school, walked into a classroom, and killed many of the students and teachers who were in it.
The suspect was subsequently killed by responding officers.
19 children are dead.
2 adults are dead. I presume these were the teachers.
Is there an idea about motive?
No.
Does there need to be though?
I try very hard not to make Dispatches from the Evening Shift political.
The OR doesn’t care about my political leanings.
My political leanings do not color the quality of nursing care that I give my patients, no matter how I feel about their stances. If I even know what they are. It’s not something that comes up during a pre-op conversation.
I am upfront about not having children.
Does this mean I can’t be horrified and shattered by what happened in this elementary school? I have nieces and nephews that I love.
I can have an opinion on the events that took place yesterday in Texas.
And my opinion is valid.
I have been hesitant to say anything as I know that will lead to me feeling dismissed about my feelings of outrage and grief.
Kind of like my feelings about the Covid pandemic and those who choose not to get vaccinated to shorten this pandemic or protect others. Or people who won’t wear a mask in public because they don’t want to. And these feelings getting dismissed because they don’t want to apparently supersedes my desire to care about the welfare of others. But sure.
Because I am not a parent. Because I am not a mother. Because my husband and I aren’t parents.
And how would I know what these parents feel?
I don’t. But I have a good imagination. And because I’m human and don’t want to cause people to suffer, that’s how.
In the hospital we drill for an active shooter. In case someone gets a wild hair and their gun and decides that their need for vengeance, or to feel powerful, is greater than others need to survive. And my nephew throws out in casual conversation when his school has an active shooter drill.
It is so very sad that society has come to this.
In the plain language codes that my hospital system has adopted, active shooter is the scariest.
Dispatches from the Evening Shift 