Unsung Heroes or Something

Jordi found the presence of the reporter and camera jarring. This was a place where no one came, unless they worked in laundry, He looked for the telltale purple hair of Jen or the mustard yellow that represented the only color Jules ever wore.

He saw a flash of them through the glass of the door to the decontamination room airlock. Careful not to catch the reporter’s eye, he moved to the door.

The door opened with a hiss of inrushing air and the two women stepped out. “Hey Jordi, ready for lunch?” Jules asked.

He kept his voice just above a whisper. “What’s she doing here?” he asked, darting his eyes toward the reporter.

“I better tell the dude with the camera that there’s no pictures of the Three Musketeers unless we’re all together,” Jen said.

Jules put her arms around the other two. “Three J’s, forever and always.”

They moved past the camera to the small break area and pulled their lunches out of the fridge. As they sat at the table, their supervisor came in and began talking with the reporter and the camera operator.

“Looks like Diego’s got it all handled,” Jordi said. Jen chuckled at the inside joke, while Jules snorted and nearly choked on the iced coffee she was drinking.

“Damn it, don’t say shit like that while I’m drinking!”

“She’s got a drinking problem,” Jen said, making all three of them laugh.

“Now, I just need to find a damn Twinkie,” Jordi said, making all three of them giggle.

“Are we weird or just stupid?” Jen asked through a laugh.

“Yes,” Jules answered.

Their meal breaks usually went that way; a string of in-jokes and non sequiturs that amused them. They had all started the same week seven years earlier and had become fast friends.

“Seriously, though,” Jules asked, “what’s with the news lady?”

“Looks like Diego’s talking them through the dirty room procedures,” Jen said.

Jordi frowned. “No way is that camera going past the airlock door.”

Diego left the reporter and walked to the table as though he’d heard Jordi’s remark. “Hey, just so you know. When you bring down B-4, they’re going to be getting some footage of how the dirties are loaded into the sterilizer.”

“Great,” Jen said, “day shift didn’t finish the plague ward.”

Diego hissed, “Don’t let anyone hear you call it that!”

“I guess if the camera’s going to follow us around, we should warn the nurses in the B-wing to not say that,” Jules muttered.

“I don’t want that camera past the airlock door,” Jordi said. “There’s no way we can cover the cameraman…camerawoman…whatever…and all their gear with a suit, and that camera won’t survive decon, not that it—”

“The camera and reporter are staying outside the airlock,” Diego cut in. “I’m way ahead of you on that. Besides, the reporter wanted to go in, but the camera…person talked her out of it. Something about ‘insurance won’t cover her if she catches it.’ They’ll be staying at the observation window.”

“So, only the fourth floor?” Jen asked.

“Yeah, day shift got behind when the reporter insisted on getting shots of them donning their PPE. Where are you on your regular rounds?”

“We just pushed D-1 through 5 into the sterilizer,” Jules said. “I don’t even want to know what went on in OB surgery two…a full canister of bio, and another half-bag sitting next to it.”

“Yeesh,” Jordi said with a shudder. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“If two of us jump on B-4, the third can move the loads out of the sterilizers into the washers, and we might be able to finish ER and A wing after that.” Jules rose from the table and began clearing up her mess.

“If you don’t have time to get to A, don’t sweat it.” Diego sighed. “This woman has been a pain in my ass all day, trying to get the stories of the ‘unsung heroes’ or something. Between the camera getting in the way and the interviews, she put the day shift behind.”

“I’m not doing any interviews,” Jordi said.

“You don’t have to talk to her or the camera…person unless they’re in the way.” Diego looked over at the reporter who was recording bits staring straight into the camera.

“What’s with the whole ‘camera, big pause, person’ thing, D?” Jules asked.

“I honestly can’t tell whether they’re a man or woman or something in-between.”

Jen stood. “And you didn’t think to ask?”

“Don’t,” Jordi said, already hiding his face in embarrassment for what she was about to do.

“Hey, cameraperson,” she yelled, “what’re your pronouns?”

The camera operator turned to look at Jen and peeked from around the eyepiece. “She, her,” she said.

“Thanks!” Jen turned to Diego. “See, easy.”

“See,” the reporter said, “you should wear something more form-fitting.”

The camerawoman frowned. “And get hit on like you? No way.”

Jordi rose and threw his lunch bag in the compostable collection bin. “I’ll head up to B-4. Who’s with me?”

“Dibs,” Jen said before Jules could call it.

Jordi and Jen donned gloves, protective booties over their shoes, and a coverall over the gloves and shoes. They took turns taping shut the wrists and ankles of the other, then donned their headgear, and taped around the base of that where it overlapped the coverall.

They added a second pair of gloves, and each pushed two enclosed carts into the freight elevator. Jordi eyed the hundreds of UVC lamps in the walls and ceiling of the car. If those should happen to be turned on while they were in it, it would be disastrous.

Once they arrived at the fourth floor, they took the service hallway to the B wing. Jordi keyed the radio that was clipped to his shoulder under the coverall. “Hey, janitorial, laundry entering B-4.”

“Jordi…about time. East closet is stocked, West and South are empty. Dirties are ready for pickup.”

“Thanks, Mal. Can you spare someone for a follow in the service tunnel?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up there in a minute. I’ll be waiting for you.”

After stocking the linen closets with the plastic-sealed sheet sets and plastic-sealed towels, they flipped the signs on the carts to display the biohazard warning. Each room’s dirties were in a biohazard bag sitting just outside the door.

They went opposite directions around the wing, filling their carts. The on-floor janitors followed behind them with a spray bottle and microfiber mop, spraying the spot where the bag had been and drying it with the mop.

When they met up, the janitors held their mops over Jen’s second bin and released the heads to drop into the basket with the rest. She sealed it up as the others had already been sealed and they exited back into the service hall.

Mal stood waiting with a machine that sprayed, scrubbed, vacuumed, and bathed the floor beneath it in UVC. He nodded. “Day shift got behind, huh?”

“Yeah.” Jordi heard the machine start up as they made their way to the freight elevator.

They rode down in silence. When the elevator reached their basement floor, the side opposite the one they’d entered opened. The door into the main area wouldn’t open until the car had run a sterilization cycle.

They exited into the “dirty” room, where they began dumping the bags of linens, scrubs, towels, gowns, and mop heads into the sterilizers. They dropped the empty bags into a chute that led to the incinerator two floors lower.

Once they had emptied all four carts, they pushed the carts into the adjoining decontamination room dirty side airlock. The pressure in the airlock was higher than the dirty room, ensuring nothing would be blown or sucked in from the dirty room.

Through the airlock, the decontamination room was likewise positively pressurized when they entered. There was a strict, one-direction airflow through the airlocks and decontamination room, from “clean” side to dirty.

Jordi turned the carts upside down on a belt that led through what would best be described as a giant, commercial dishwasher. Jen placed the lids on the belt after the carts, and they both removed their outer gloves and dropped them into a chute that, like the previous, led to the incinerator.

Jen grabbed the wand and sprayed Jordi down from top to bottom as he turned slowly, his arms and legs spread wide. Jordi took over, using the liquid still on his inner gloves to wipe down the sprayer handle.

Once they were both soaked down and the floor drain had pulled most of the water out, they waited while the pressure in the decontamination room dropped. The airlock opened, air rushing into the decontamination room.

Jordi said, “Ladies first.”

“Gladly.” Jen stood near the airlock’s chute to the incinerator, where Jordi untaped the edge of her head cover and pulled at the release on the neck of her coverall, starting a tear down the back seam that ran to the waist.

She did the same for him, then, with practiced movements, they grabbed the back of their hood, and pulled it, along with their coveralls off to their waist. The upper part turned inside out to the point where it was taped to their gloves.

Bending over, they ripped the tape at their ankles, allowing them to step out of the booties and coveralls, only their wrists connected at this point. Jen went first, lifting the tangle of her PPE and putting it into the chute before tearing the tape at her wrists and allowing it fall, pulling off the inner gloves.

Jordi followed suit, and they waited again for the pressure in the airlock to drop, before the door to the main area opened for them. The camerawoman held the camera at her side, pointing down, while the reporter continued chattering away to Diego.

He was, to Jordi’s eyes, clearly annoyed, but the reporter didn’t seem to get it. With the camera not pointing at him, he felt more comfortable speaking up. “Hey, Diego, we need to go over the stock lists for the A wing.”

Diego came straight over to Jordi and Jen. He pulled out his phone and the three of them pretended to look at something on it while Diego whispered to a nodding Jordi and Jen, “Thank you.”

Diego put his phone away. “We should go help Jules load the washers.”

Jordi knew that wasn’t true, as the sterilizers were empty when they arrived, but it seemed like a good place to hide until the reporter got tired of hanging around.