The ER can be a busy and noisy place to work in. That seems like a pretty obvious assertion. Yet, as a lifelong hermit/introvert I still find that I am easily overstimulated by too much noise. Much more so in the morning. There were conversations happening all around me. Some of them were important. Others less important. But it was too much. Too much for my mind to handle this morning. Too much stimulation.
It's no secret that I'm not a good morning person. Which doesn't mean that I hate working mornings, it just means I don't adjust to them easily or readily at first. This is the time that I'm most easily overstimulated. When I'm tired. When my mind isn't ready for it. I couldn't take it. I had only been here for an hour and it was already too much to handle. I decided to go for a walk. Just for 5 minutes. That was all. Something to clear my head from all the loud static noise happening all around me.
Instantly the rest of the hospital was more quiet than where I was. Yet, I was still hyper-aware of all the noises around me. Subtle and not subtle. I walked through a long stretch of hallway, my favorite hallway. It was quiet here. Though it was a major thoroughfare for foot traffic, it wasn't busy for this time of the morning. I could hear the air of the heating system blow past me as if it were a wind tunnel. It masked a lot of other small noises happening around me. I took my time as a walked down this hallway. No one was in front of me. No faces to greet me. No strangers to acknowledge. Just me, theair tunnel and the light hum of fluorescent lighting. Behind me, a lady loudly rummaged through her plastic sack. Normally that wouldn't have bothered me in a normal state. But right then, it felt like she was ruffling the sack right next to my ears. I tried to ignore it and press forward. I was mostly alone in a building that contained easily hundreds of people. No one in that entire building could have appreciated that fact more than me. I passed by old lights where the hum was high pitched. I could feel it pierce my eardrums. The 10 seconds of complete uninterupted silence I had in that long hallway was bliss and I sorely missed it already.
I reached the end of the hallway where it was quiet, isolating and yet weird to be here. No one comes back here. But what if someone did? What the hell was I doing there. There was no logical explanation that could make sense to them. I couldn't explain to them that I needed to get away from the noise of the job I willingly signed up for. I turned around and started walking back, again at my own pace. That long hallway stretch came again. It was quieter this time. No ruffling bags, the high pitched hum of the lighting had suddenly went away. No people or faces to acknowledge. Just me and the relative silence. The most silent a hospital can get. I relished this fleeting moment. From the time I stepped into that long silent hallway to the very second the silence ended, I savored it. I savored it like a well made chocolate, or a well aged wine. I had to take it all in for what it is worth. What I was going back to would be the exact opposite. Loud conversation. Loud footsteps. Small talk. Important information. Noise just to be noise. People competing for the attention of others. It was too much. I wasn't ready to go back.
I'm not always like this. But when I am, I would give almost anything to be isolated and alone. Right now, no price seems too high for the simple luxury of silence.
