The Night Shift

So there I was on a chair, blank as usual. `Stoic` is how my mother would usually describe me, but I'd like to think that just to an extent. The aircon hummed and whirred, but it never seemed to get any colder. The room was a nice green, not quite reminiscent of indifferent, beeping machines. The only illumination was from the overhead lamp and it bathed the room in stone cold white.

--

"Goodmorning sir, ma'am"

A school of nurses enter with their white uniforms and fixed up hair. "We're from the night shift and we're just doing our rounds." A nurse comes round to my side and checks the pile of tubes connected to my mom. She goes the long way round and checks the oxygen. "Thank you ma'am. Oh, and we'd like to remind you: no food and drinks from 12 midnight." A smile, and you really can't measure how fake (because sometimes they just are genuine), then they leave one by one.

--

My dad was lying on the long john on the far right of the room. I could hear him restlessly twist and turn in his non-sleep. I, on the other hand, was on that hospital chair almost relaxed and calm. I psyched myself up the other day, I remember. I told myself in a trance-like manner: push everything to the back of your mind and carry the fuck on. It was a motto to live by and it was getting me by just fine.

--

"Yes ma'am?" A nurse suddenly steps into the room. Now this nurse, I'm particularly fond of. I think he's genuine and that makes all the difference. "Oh sorry." My mom's reply. It turns out, she accidentally pressed on the intercom."Joke lang po yun," and I sheepishly laugh at our mishap. The nurse, whom we shall name Bob, came back in.

Bob said: `We'd just like to remind you that this is a non-smoking room. All the oxygen pipes are connected so one puff can kill the whole hospital. Thank you po ma`am` He smiles his genuine, concerned smile and leaves the room. My mom and I look at each other and snicker. We both think: Mama*!

--

Until maybe certain profound points at night, I'm well and fine. When everyone's asleep and my thoughts follow the rhythm of everyone else's breathing, there's nothing much else to accompany me but my thoughts. At those points, I feel like drowning or just ceaselessly falling into some empty pit never quite knowing when everything would stop. Sometimes you can't help but feel this way. It's like some sort of default setting.

--

My mom suddenly stirs in her sleep. "Give the night crew a box of donuts." So I comply. I get the dozen donuts on top of the fridge, squeeze in a few more donuts (you know how night shifts can be). As I approach the nurse's station, I spot Bob and give the donuts to him. This Bob is a morning shift nurse though, so he said something like `I'll just give it to them.` I was about to turn around when he said: `Do you guys have like a factory of donuts?` I replied an honest `No, just a franchise.` He says: `Paggawa kaya ako ng Krispy Kreme dito` in that joking manner.

--

Laughing, I get back to the room and settle back into my chair. Still, I can hear my dad's deep snores and my mom's rhythmic breathing. I am alone. At some point though, I take note that I'm on the night shift too. So I give myself a donut and continue on with the night.

*Mama: my grandma; mom's mom