I was working with Debra and the new girl who is going to work inpatient, and we were driving out into the country to see some patients.
We arrived at a big house with a separate barn/garage. The house was white and in need of painting. When we got ready to get out of the car, I realized that I had taken off my shoes and socks. I was wearing running shoes with white socks instead of my usual black Crocs and socks.
I stopped to put on my shoes, and Debra said not to hurry, to take my time and come in the back door when I was ready.
The house had a hall dividing it down the middle. There was a kitchen on the left and beyond it, a bedroom. On the right were was a den with a TV and beyond it, another bedroom. I guess the front of the house was the living room and/or parlor.
In the bedroom on the right was a tiny white woman all curled up in her hospital bed in the fetal position. She did not want any of us to touch her, and only her white hair was visible, so covered up she was. Then there was a woman in a white uniform who took me into the den and asked about Clint. I had to tell her died last year, and she fell into my arms in tears. I knew the woman, but now I can’t remember her name or even how she looked except for the white uniform and her blonde hair.
I said I had to get to work, but when I looked down, I had taken off my shoes and socks again, and I had to sit down and put them back on. I walked across the hall to the other bedroom, where there was a tall black man lying a hospital bed. He was wet with urine, but his catheter was dry and in working order. I squatted down the see how much urine was in the bag and realized that once again I was unshod. My feet got wet with whatever was on the floor, (urine)? and I could not find my shoes and socks.
Debra said she would take care of the patient while I looked for my shoes and socks - again. In the other bedroom, the little lady was still refusing to be touched. I found two pairs of shoes and socks, neither of which was mine. The socks were clean, I think, but they were gray from repeated washing without any bleach. And there were men’s socks - way too big.
I put them on anyway and laced my feet up in a pair of the shoes - also way too big.
There were other people there, saying they had brought equipment, oxygen I guess, and that they were taking care of the dying patients.
The new nurse just stood around watching them and me. Debra was still in the other bedroom, and when we got ready to leave, to walk across the yard to our car, I got stickers and sand spurs the soles of my bare feet. Then the doorbell woke me.
Take that, Dr. Freud!