The sound of glasses clinking, beer bottles opening, pool balls being sunk, the strange click the door makes. You see where I'm coming from.
There is nothing in the bar that scares me. Makes my heart pump faster than I would like. It's my comfort zone.
The hospital is a different matter. My comfort zone at work there revolves around call bells, the word 'nurse' being called repeatedly, bleeps going off and telephones ringing, remaining unanswered.
My comfort zone does not include the crash bell.
For the first few seconds of bleating, I'm always confused. Horrifically oblivious for a few seconds as to what that particular sound signifies.
I was talking to a porter the last time it invaded into my subconscious. For a second, confused by the intrusion. Then running following the stampede of nurses.
Today my arms and shoulders burn from the effort I put in. Still feeling broken ribs against the heel of my right hand.
We are all trained for it, yet it still catches us unawares. Adrenaline pumping for a considerable amount of time after the event. A small part of me becoming detached each time.
I wonder if I will lose my soul completely?