Sleep in peace

His little weight is heavy against my lap, bare brown belly in a rhythmic rise and fall against mine, fist clenched tight on my thumb.  It is warm in the wards tonight, and Ismael (not his real name) settled into a sound sleep once I stripped off the sweat-soaked shirt and left him blinking confused in the soft light of the emergency overheads.  Three in a bed might be comfortable at home, but here when the AC goes off, it's more like a bedroom sauna.

It's the last shift in our stretch of nights, and the little ones were having a wild time tonight.  One last hurrah before surgery tomorrow...when three broken lips will be sewed back together, three young lives given a chance at school, jobs, a family, a normal life.

Naamah (not her real name) is one of my cuddle bugs.  Head wreathed in bandages from her noma repair, she insisted on sitting on my lap through report and prayers, then riding on my back down to A ward to visit everyone while I checked in with the evening charge nurses.  Most of our visit involved choppy questions in Krio on our part and solemn nods and a few high fives on hers.  Once back we decided to color, and after I scolded Naamah for cleaning the floor with her head bandage, a lively chase ensued involving a  hobby horse and balloons, and all the children under 10.  Ismael attempted escape out the door when the doctors came for rounds, but happily settled for eating my calculator and removing the pens from my pockets one by one while we discussed surgical status and preop medications.  We ended with a group teaching session (my instructors would have been proud) on everything from IV medications to how a thermometer works.

They've been sleeping since, a dark and quiet ward tonight as the nurses round with flashlights.  Sleep in peace, little ones, morning is almost here.