Sweeping Along
Sara was the head nurse on the medical/surgical unit where I worked at Frick Hospital in Mt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania. She was rotund and always wore spotless white dress and nursing shoes at work. Because she lived about two blocks from the hospital, she always walked to work no matter the weather, rain or shine. Each morning she’d look out the windows at home to see what she should wear on her walk. One cold winter morning she looked out to see bare walkways. When she saw no snow, she showered, put on her makeup, did her hair, then got dressed. Because the walks were clear, she decided against wearing snow boots. She would wear her nursing shoes.
As she left her house she noticed that the ground was now covered. About one inch of light, fluffy, powdery snow covered the walkway. Snow had fallen while she was getting ready for work. As was usual for her, she was already running late and didn’t want to take the time to go back inside to change into her winter boots. Grabbing the broom she kept on her front porch she began to sweep her way to work. The air currant caused by each sweep of the broom cleared a space for her to take several steps. The wispy snow would dance out of her way baring the walk with each swipe of the broom.
She was almost halfway to work when a man saw her sweeping and stepping routine. He stopped his car alongside her and rolled down the car’s window before calling out, “Hey lady! You’ll make better time if you hop on that broom and ride it.” Laughing loudly at his wit, he rolled up his window and drove away. His car disappeared in a cloud of water vapor pouring from his tailpipe.
Late as usual, Sara arrived on our unit, but that day she was in such a snit. She was normally a germaphobe wiping everything off with alcohol before assuming her desk duties. But this day she forgot to wipe the telephones and desk area with alcohol until much later in the shift.