we\'re opening
with tapas
but I don\'t know what tapas is
in a faux-spanish restaurant
there are seven of us
eight
a small gathering
drawing breath
in the middle of a crowded week
and it begins with a platter
of marinated ribs
some sort of fried calamari rings
cheese and special-sauce potatoes
olives
they call it tapas
~
a mother
out near seymour
on the edge of the catchment
is staring at her meal
the food tonight
came out of the freezer
but it wasn\'t touched
by either of them
it\'s been pushed now
towards the centre
of the dining room table
she\'s still dressed in her better clothes
hasn\'t changed
it was a long trip to the hospital
and she\'s too weary to bother
the boy
her young man
was a mess today
still so
sick
strange
frightening
she thinks
thank god he\'s in the inpatient unit
but what are they doing for him
he isn\'t getting any better
what can they do
this is the worst
it\'s ever been
what\'s going to happen
she cries silently
and knows even as she weeps
that she\'s the strongest of them
it will destroy her husband
she is the stronger
and she is weeping
wishes they hadn\'t visited
perhaps it will be better
tomorrow
~
the deep red
is a delicious warmth
and the conversation flows
a joke about the service
a word about the practice of medicine
thoughtful comment
on the demography of the area
how we differ
from the adjoining catchments
rural versus metropolitan
familiar faces pass by
to settle at neighbouring tables
and there\'s a comfort to be found
a sense of belonging in this place
on this evening
our rural city seems
undisturbed by the fall of night
the waiter has removed the tapas
platter empty
and now
we\'re now waiting for the mains
it’s all very pleasant
the last olive
was mine
~
things are jumping
on the unit
it\'s full up
no beds
but there\'s another patient
with an overdose
a psychosis
drug-related
anorexic
old
something
it doesn\'t really matter what
there\'s always another one
and tonight there\'ll be a blue about it
the night shift aren’t happy with the triage team
and they make a stand
if you want to leave another patient with us
you better find extra staff
because we haven\'t got enough
and we won\'t do it
I don\'t care who says so
we\'ve got enough to do
keeping that young yahoo you just brought in
under control
if there\'s no extra staff
there\'s no going over-numbers
.
.
.
.
okay
welcome aboard for the night shift
don\'t worry
the manager can sort it out
tomorrow
our job is to keep that crazy bugger
under some sort of control
~
chocolate duck is an unusual dish
rich and rewarding
our table is silent now
almost
there\'s only the clinking of cutlery
an occasional appreciation
and the sound of an ambulance
disappearing into the distance
idle thoughts
idle thoughts
I always stray back to the job
the petty worries I can do nothing about
but can\'t help over-working
the main dishwasher
in the unit’s kitchen
has broken down
what will it do to the budget
if I replace it
is there a choice
nope
perhaps I should raise the salary level
of the new nurse
he\'s working out well enough
they\'ll be short-staffed in the morning
the roster\'s deficient
I hope someone\'s put their hand up
to fill in for the absentees
I wonder if the sickies are real
or just bludging
might need some help with that one
fingers crossed the boy from seymour
doesn\'t cause too much grief
he\'ll be a bugger till we can get the drugs
out of his system
his drugs out
our drugs in
oh well
it\'s all pointless
I can\'t do anything until tomorrow
and talk at our table is starting up again
this has been a nice way
to end the day
duck
chocolate
tapas and all
I still don\'t know
what tapas means but
I might get to work it out
tomorrow
~