From Hogs to Heaven

Six weeks after I had entered the rehabilitation center I was well enough to go home. I wasn't the same spry woman I had been that fine morning six weeks before, but I walked into my house with leg braces and crutches and a slow gait. My hands and arms were weak, but I could get them to do what I wanted. My mind and will were strong—even stronger than before the accident. I stayed home for a few weeks and then decided that it was time to get back to work. Sitting around the house was not something I was used to. I was the department head of the Emergency Department. I had been away too long and there was much I needed to do. The next morning I walked into the ER ready for work. That made for quite an entrance for a person who had lain there two months before with a possibly severed spinal cord. My staff was happy to see me. I didn't recognize it at the time, but they were also surprised to see me. You see, I wasn't scheduled to come back to work, but no one had told me this. The administration at the hospital were aware of the progress I had made in rehabilitation, but they were also aware that I was a woman that needed leg braces to walk and had no strength in my hands and arms. In my mind I had proudly walked back through the ER doors. They didn't see me walk as much as hobble back through those doors. None of my nurses said anything about their surprise. It was Dr. Wood who took me aside and, although happy to see me back, expressed his concern. “What would happen if someone came in here and fainted and hit their head on the floor because you didn't have the strength to catch them?” he asked. “There could be a lawsuit.” I agreed that he had reason for concern there, but I was getting stronger. I was determined that I could do the job. Dr. Wood really got my attention when he said, “It's very possible that you could lose your nursing license if there are any questions about you working with less than full strength.” This scared me a little, but I went back to work the next day anyway. I couldn't see any other life than running that emergency department. Until someone physically stopped me, that was what I was going to do. It didn't take the hospital long to get control of the situation. Two days after Dr. Wood had spoken to me I received a call from Fred Schloss, the hospital administrator. He wanted to see me in his office. I should have known what was coming, but I was still hanging on stubbornly to the idea that the accident hadn't changed anything. Fred Schloss was a good administrator and a decent human being. This was actually born out by what happened in his office that day. But at the time what he did hurt me deeply. Audrey Harper was sitting in his office when I came in. If being called in to the hospital administrator's office is bad enough the “bad” is multiplied by 10 when the nursing supervisor is there also. I took my seat and we immediately started with small talk and pleasantries about my recovery. They were both very happy to see me on my feet again. To say they were surprised to see me so soon back at work was an understatement. At this point the conversation turned to the heart of the reason they called me in. They were aware that I was back at work in the ER. They were also aware that I was only able to walk with braces and that my arms were weak. I had to agree with them that we didn't know when I would get my strength back or if ever would. “Laurie,” Fred said. “For the sake of the hospital and your sake we have to remove you from your position as director of the Emergency Department effective immediately.” Those words sent an icy sword between my ribs and through my heart. For a moment there was complete silence in the room as I tried to comprehend the words I had just heard. I had just lost my position. They were taking the position I loved just a little less than my children away from me. I had been in an accident, but I would get better. The braces and the weakness wasn't my fault. I would get better. I needed just a little more time. All these things whirled through my head, but still I said nothing. And then the tears came. I covered my face with my hands as I sobbed openly. I hadn't cried when my son was brought in for emergency surgery. I hadn't cried when I was brought in with a possible broken neck. But losing this position felt like the keystone of my life's arch had just been pulled and now my life would collapse. Audrey, who I knew was there to sanction Fred's actions, momentarily dropped the mantle of Nursing Supervisor and cried with me in sympathy.