And so I rise...again

I rise again, because the crazy patient leaving Washington missed hitting me in the crosswalk. I really thought I was going to go down for the count. I had the right of way, but the hurried patient was turning right on red. No harm, but I did notify our local PD (took a photo while he waited at a stoplight nearby), in case Mr. Hurry-Yup decided to run down any students down the street at Private U.

I'm not sure why I decided to become a stair climber. I think it had something to do with running up and down all the flights of stairs at Saintarama to the rehab gym to take patients their pain meds. Ah, the days before bar coded medication administration! Pull the meds, mark the MAR, and give the pills. It wasn't perfect, but we made do.

This weekend, I'm going on my next stair climbing journey. It's the same set of stairs in the same skyscraper. However, I'm older, wiser, and a tad out of shape, but a promise is a promise.

I figure this old asthmatic nurse ought to do something right? I have been so lucky that my asthma is well-controlled. I drove my sainted mother crazy with my asthma attacks as a kid. We were on a first name basis with most of the Saintarama Childrens Hospital ER staff due to our regular visits.

My friend, a grade school teacher, had to tell her class that one of their classmates passed away on spring break. P. was a kid with asthma for years. This time was different: it got so bad he was put on a ventilator, then he crashed. They couldn't bring him back.

So I will rise, and as I go up all 865 steps, I'll think of P., and the 3,630 other folks who died last year due to asthma. Otherwise, the firefighting crews who race after me will just have to pick me up and take me the rest of the way to the finish.

Stay tuned...