Page 21 of Forced Into Your Arms
“Milan.”
“I know.” She smiled. “Nia hasn’t shut up about you since orientation.”
I looked over at Nia, who immediately threw both hands up.
“Don’t look at me like that. I said you seemed nice.” I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off by saying, “Yeah, yeah… I know I’ve only known you for two days but I’ve been right for those two days.”
Denise laughed. “You’re gonna fit in just fine around here.”
Before I could respond, the charge nurse walked up with a clipboard tucked beneath her arm.
“Alright, everybody. Let’s get started.”
The small group around the nurses’ station broke apart as assignments were handed out. I glanced down at mine, mentally preparing myself for the night ahead.
Four patients… Not bad.
“I gave you a lighter assignment tonight,” the charge nurse said as she stopped beside me. “After everything that happened yesterday, I figured you could ease into things.”
“I appreciate it.”
She studied my face for a second before nodding.
“If you need a minute at any point tonight, take it. Nobody’s expecting you to pretend you’re fine.”
“I will…”
She gave my shoulder a quick pat before walking off to help somebody else.
I looked down at the names on my assignment sheet and let out a quiet breath.
This was what I came back to Atlanta for. Taking care of people. Learning. Growing. Building a life that didn’t revolve around the past. Last night didn’t get to take that away from me.
“Room twelve is all yours,” Nia said, nudging me with her elbow as she walked past. I had already checked on my other three patients and was getting ready to check on the last one. “Sweetest little lady you’ll ever meet. She’ll probably try to feed you candy before the night’s over.”
I laughed.
“Patients do that?”
“Oh, honey.” Nia grinned. “You haven’t seen nothing yet.”
She wasn’t lying.
Mrs. Janice Carter was seventy-eight years old, recovering from pneumonia, and determined to convince everybody on the floor that she was well enough to go home.
“I keep telling these people I don’t belong in this bed,” she said the second I walked into the room. “You look smart. Go tell them.”
I smiled as I introduced myself.
“I don’t think they’ll listen to me on my second day.”
“They should… You got kind eyes.”
“That’s your way of trying to recruit me to your side, isn’t it?”
“It would’ve worked if you hadn’t figured me out so fast.” We both laughed.
For the next several minutes, I checked her vitals, made sure she was comfortable, and listened while she told me all about her grandchildren, her church choir, and how the hospital’s food should be considered a crime.
