135/365 01/03/2026

The quiet times were nice. A time to breathe. To wander the halls. There was a little alcove tucked in behind the women’s bathrooms on the second floor we could use to close our eyes for 10 minutes during lulls. 

The lulls came. Every hospital has them, and if someone tells you otherwise, they’re lying. Trying to be more than they are. But you get the rhythm of the place. The surge between 2 and 3 when the bars close. The bump around 7:30 in the morning when poor moms realize their kid is sick enough to need some medicine. About 12 hours later when people head home from work and wreck their car, eat bad sushi, decide Wednesday afternoon is the perfect time to clean the gutters. A 6 PM game of pickup basketball that blows out a knee.