I am a sucker for a good love story. Disney tales had my heart in childhood. I wanted the fairy-tale story and prince charming. My life wasn’t that. And as we all do, the thought of love changes as we become older. In the emergency room, we see cheaters that lie to their loved ones about being HIV positive. We have to work around the girl_friends and the wives to men who come in on the ambulances. It isn't just men, it is women too. The scandal is there. Every once and a while you see a gesture of love. 

My favorite ER love story starts in triage. A long line of people waiting to be seen. Enter two middle aged folks. Obviously homeless. Wearing clothes too large for them. And their skin is covered in pink and purple.  It almost looks like camouflage. Like they are on a covert mission inside Barbie’s dream house. They stand side by side, holding hands and walk up together to the triage nurse. They caught my eye and I wondered what their story was.

The ER I worked in was busy. There is always things to do and patients to see. I can’t keep up with every story. However this time, about an hour later, I was told to go into an isolation room. There would be two patients inside that room, with scabies. It was early spring. At that time, Fresno had a large Tent City by the railroad tracks. I want to say this was the second outbreak of scabies that year. I absolutely hate going into these rooms. No ER nurse does. We would rather be exposed to H1N1 or tuberculosis than lice or scabies. My job: give them the lotion and go over how to apply it. As I walk into the room, I see my barbie soldiers sitting together. 

Here is their story: They are married. They had some hard times and became homeless. They currently live in Tent City. Like everyone else, they had scabies. Homeless people are resourceful. They have their remedies. A remedy for scabies is to put clear nail polish on the areas that itch. The idea is it suffocates the bugs and they die. This couple went to the closest dollar store to get clear nail polish. But in light of the infestation, the store was sold out. So they grabbed what was available and went back to their humble home. They sat all night painting each other pink and purple. But the outbreak couldn’t be managed by these little bottles. They came to the ED for treatment. As miserable as they felt, they were able to giggle telling their story. 

It brings me back to Disney. Are these grand gestures and dramatic stories true love? Or having your best friend who has stood by you, even through financial ruin and still be able to laugh painting each other in a tent throughout the rainy night the true love story? And every nurse's heart in that lobby melted. It wasn’t just mine. 

I will admit to being on a date, reflecting on that wonderful couple in my head, asking myself this: Would I be willing to be miserably itchy, yet joyfully painting this man's body in a cold, damp tent? Maybe that is the keeper.