Beepers and Other Mysteries of the Universe

It's Day 2 of my chaplaincy, and I am exhausted. I haven't even seen any patients yet--I'm dragging just from orientation.

I find it strange that I now have a beeper. My beeper even has my name on it. "Beep" has become a verb for me, as in "I've been beeped," or "a patient is coding, beep the chaplain." I have yet to be beeped, but I picture my first time as some sort of comic farce, my pocket exploding in a frenzy of loud, high pitched tones and hyperactive vibration. Perhaps I'll be walking down a hall and will suddenly flail my arms out of surprise. Perhaps I'll be in the on-call room when someone in the Intensive Care Unit dies at 2am, and I'll jolt awake with a cartoon like flourish, complete with bumping my head on the alcove with the statue of the Virgin Mary.

I'm part of a "care team" that includes the doctors, nurses, staff, and case managers working with a patient, and I sit in on "team meetings" and go on rounds. I never thought I would go on "rounds." I have a name badge with my title on it. I even write on people's charts. Craziness.

Even though it's exhausting, I'm finding a nice camaraderie with my colleagues. I'm feeling especially close with the Priests (ironic that I fled from the church but find comfort with its stewards). They tell hilarious stories about things they've been asked to do, like help the nurse get a patient's dentures back in after they died and rigor mortis had set in.

Strangely enough, even after all the exhaustion, the anxiety, the hour-long commute both ways, it still feels...well...right. It feels really good to be where I am and doing what I'm doing. Now if I can just figure out how to beep others...