“Defeated: A Braid Story” by Katelyn Davis

Victory is only mine when I hate the dead and curse her name, When the tears fill his eyes after I’ve said my disowning peace. They are

Xactly how I thought they would be. Years of wondering and now knowing leaves me with

Zero fucks to give.

“Defeated: A Braid Story” by Katelyn Davis

I. When we were kids, we always played doctor. Fake broken bones that could be fixed with regular clear packing tape, gauze was tissues, and regular old safety scissors would work for surgery, right? II. My first CNA job was rough, I had never seen so much death in one week before. The older people slowly deteriorating in their beds, they all needed help eating and bathing, like they were children in adult bodies. III. Watching young adults, my age or slightly older, come into the hospital with infections caused by dirty needles. Heroin addicts being brought in by police for treatment before being taken away is insane.

I. As children we didn’t realize just how painful and gross a broken leg looked. We could just doctor it up with some tape we found in the basement. Temperatures were checked with cerulean blue sparkle gels pens, and boom, in and out in 15 minutes or less. As children we were oblivious to how serious healthcare is. II. Long term care is another world. In one room you have John Doe walking around and dancing to his wedding song with his wife, in the other room you have Jane Doe taking her last breath and going to see her husband for the first time in 13 years. III. Hospitals are full of a million different things. Babies, death, infectious diseases, surgery, blood, trauma, psych, and that one man who has 27 tattoos that’s scared of an IV. Treatment takes days, even weeks, one man has been there for 52 days and will not be making it home. One man watched his daughter walk down the aisle on FaceTime, and COVID wreaks havoc on an entire tower.

I. As children when we got sick mom and dad took care of us, if we scraped our knee we got a band aid, an arm bruise meant we had too much fun outside, and the only time our lips were blue was from popsicles and blue cookie monster ice cream from the corner store. II. Watching the elderly woman in room 264 as her breathing slows and her lips turn a shade of purple blue that I had only seen on flowers and the end of Breaking Dawn Part 1 was the moment I grabbed her cold frail hand and sang to her as she passed. No family around to be there for her. III. Running across the unit with a clipboard and a code cart behind me because CMU called and told me my patient’s heart stopped as I yelled for the charge nurse hoping we weren’t too late to start compressions. My patient’s body was as blue as the lips of a passing elderly person. Starting compressions on my now blueberry purple patient and hoping to bring back a 23-year-old mother of 4 with COVID… and failing. 46