THE FUSE

I brief my team for the shift change. My eyes are a soulful blue-green, the color of the sea and the color of the zip ties we’re using to restrain a suspect in police custody with a bullet wound. The E.R. is in chaos. On top of the population genuinely experiencing medical emergencies, we’ve become a dumping ground for unhoused psych patients, individuals affected by a primary care provider shortage, and an onslaught of adult men committed to inserting foreign objects in their rectums. But look: when I reach for my first patient’s chart, my biceps bulge.