Page 6 of Color Me Broken
At Emerald City, no two days were the same. Old folks with stories, kids being fearful of the doctors, families camping out in the hard metal chairs. Tasha usually would love the chaos. It meant she was doing something that mattered, but today the sounds were really getting to her. A telemetry alarm was going off down the hall, a code got called on 3B, and the triage nurse was yelling out for the lab tech. But Tasha moved through it the best way she knew how.
When noon came, she felt like she’d been hit by a truck. Her head was throbbing, her palms were slick. She slipped into the break room for a quick breather, dropping into a chair. The vending machine was the only sound in the room.
The door swung open, and Nurse Kenya stepped in with her hair swinging, salad in one hand, side-eye loaded. She stopped when she saw Tasha.
“Damn, I knew I’d find yo ass hidin’,” she said, setting her salad down and looking her over.
Tasha let out a short laugh. “Girl, I ain’t hidin’. Just takin’ a breather.”
Nurse Kenya tilted her head. “You don’t look too good. You sure you ain’t gettin’ sick?”
“It’s just hot in here.”
“The A/C is on full blast, Tasha. Ain’t nothin’ hot but that wig you sweatin’ under. It’s liftin’ too, girl.”
Tasha laughed, insisting. “I’m fine, Kenya.”
Nurse Kenya dragged a chair closer and pointed like a mama about to lecture. “Sit. Down. Before I call Dr. Madison up here myself.”
Tasha sighed but sat. Nurse Kenya slid a bottle of water toward her.
“You eat anything today?”
“Coffee,” Tasha said, knowing how dumb it sounded.
“Bitch, coffee ain’t food,” Nurse Kenya shot back.
Tasha cracked a grin. “You sound like Niyah ass.”
“Good. Maybe you’ll listen.” Nurse Kenya's eyes narrowed. “You been ‘just tired’ for weeks. What’s really up?”
The question hit deeper than Tasha liked. Nurse Kenya had a way of seeing through people’s poker faces. Tasha looked down, pretending to fix her badge.
Nurse Kenya chewed on her fork handle. “You better not be pregnant, ‘cause if you are, you know I can’t hold water, bitch.”
Tasha snorted, half-laugh, half-groan. “Fuck yeah, I know. If I was pregnant, I’d be dancin’ on the nurse’s station right now. That’s the damn problem. I ain’t. At least that’s what that cheap ass Dollar Tree test said.”
Nurse Kenya’s jaw dropped. “Oh…okay…”
The silence lingered for a moment, filled only by the sound of the running vending machine. Tasha leaned her head back, her eyes on the ceiling like the truth might be written in the tiles. They’d been trying to start a family for years. Every late period felt like hope knocking, just for disappointment to answer the door.
Tasha finally forced a smile. “Anyway, I just need rest. I’ma finish this shift and crash as soon as I get home.”
Nurse Kenya pointed her fork like a weapon. “You better. And if you pass out on this floor, I’m tellin’ everybody you were high on Benadryl.”
They cracked up, the tension dissolving.
Then Tasha stood, and her knees gave. The world blurred. She grabbed the chair to steady herself, blinking hard.
Nurse Kenya’s salad hit the floor. “Aye, uh-uh. Sit yo ass down, Tash! My salad was gettin’ good, too, damnnn.”
“I’m sorry,” Tasha apologized, even though her voice sounded far away. “Just moved too fast. My bad.”
Nurse Kenya gripped her shoulders. “Girl, you're not fine. Look at you, sweatin’ like a hoe in church. Or should I say me.”
Tasha gave a shaky laugh. “You stupid.”
“I’m serious. You need to go over to employee health. I’m not playing.”
