There is vomit on my shirt.Again.
Be an ER nurse, they said.It’ll be fun, they said. Okay, no one actually said that, but still.
This is the worst day I’ve had in a very long time. Getting thrown up on, at, or near, isn’t uncommon, but to take it to the chest twice in one day was a bit much. I’m out of clean scrubs; I’ll have to use the standard hospital ones—and I hate those. If I’m getting puked on, I’d rather at least be comfy and cute while it’s happening.
I’ve been a nurse for six years. At first, I loved it, and in some ways I still do. I love helping people, the women I work with, andhow empowered the job makes me feel. I think I’m burned out, but there isn’t much I can do about that. So, I choose to focus on the good parts of my job, not the parts that make me want to lie down on the floor and stare at the ceiling.
Before I can get back to the changing room, Hannah—one of our newer nurses—approaches. “Hey, Jessie, there is a man in bed three who’s a total prick. Is Jason around? Can he take him?”
“Jason took bed four up for a CT, but I’ll take him.” We normally give the angry or creepy male patients to the male nurse on shift, but I’m the backup. I have thick skin and can perfectly balance professionalism and my no-bullshit attitude.
She physically relaxes.
This guy must really suck.
“Thanks. I tried to be super nice, but nothing I said warmed him up to me.”
“Let me give you some advice, Hannah: You can’t make a man like you, but you can make him smell your pukey shirt.” I wink at her.
She laughs and shakes her head.
I make my way across our small ER to bed three. I can’t treat him wearing this, but if this guy sucks as much as she says, he deserves to smell it before I change. I’ll just pop in to introduce myself to let him know I’ll be with him shortly.
And to think it’s only 9 p.m.—hour two of a twelve-hour shift.
Looks like it’s going to be a long night.
Ten hours later, I drag myself out of my beat up GMC Acadia and into The Plot Twist Cafe. Our local coffee shop and bookstore is owned by one of my longtime friends, Lainey.
As a nurse, I understand the statement “I need coffee in an IV” isn’t realistic, but the statement still stands. I’m meeting my best friend Kacey for coffee, but after this shift, I’m regretting making these plans. I’m exhausted and stressed. I’ve worked five twelve-hour shifts this week, which is more than our normal three, but I need the money. Desperately.
As soon as Kacey sees me, she stands and wraps me in a hug. I only have a few close friends, and Kacey is at the top of the list. We’ve been best friends since first grade, when my pants were too short, hair was unbrushed, and I never had lunch money. She shared her lunch with me every day.
“You look tired. We didn’t have to do this today.” She furrows her brow.
“I’d never bail on you. I’m okay, I just picked up a couple extra shifts this week.”
“Jessie, you’re still taking extra shifts? It’s been months. You said that was only temporary while you caught up on bills.”
“Yeah, well, you know me and clothes shopping.” I smile but I can tell she isn’t buying it. That’s the problem with a best friend; they can see through your bullshit. I change the subject before she can pry more. “How are you? How is Knox?”
Kacey and her boyfriend Knox have been in Oklahoma for the last two weeks. Knox’s brother-in-law died in a work-related accident, leaving a wife and young son behind.
Our chairs squeak across the floor as we sit at the table she had claimed. “I’m okay, and he’s hanging in there. The funeral was hard.” She tucks her blonde hair behind her ears.
I know she’s struggling. Kacey’s mom passed away when she was young and ever since then, funerals and hospitals have given her anxiety.
“I’m really sorry, Kacey. I’ve said it before, but if you need anything, please let me know.” I met Knox’s sister Payton at the National Finals rodeo last year. She has the brightest smile and made an effort to include Kacey and help her feel comfortable. My heart broke for her when I heard the news.
“Thanks, but we’re good—it’s Payton and his nephew, Wacey. They have a long road ahead of them. I can’t imagine losing Knox. I don’t know how I would survive it.”
I nod, unsure what to say. I’ve never had that person, that love she and Knox have. Some days I wonder if I ever will.
“Knox is home for the spring, but I might be going on the road with him some this summer,” she continues, “now that Trey is hurt and has to take some time off.” Kacey had been single for a long time before she met Knox last year. Now they’re a freaking power couple; she helps run the Diamond Hart Ranch and Knox is now a world champion bull rider.
“Hm, what happened to him?” I mutter, feigning disinterest. I won’t lie; Trey is one of the sexiest men I’ve ever been around. The problem is, he knows it. But that only makes him hotter, and it infuriates me. He’s got that cowboy swagger women go feral for.
“He got hurt in San Angelo. Herniated two disks in his back and it’s causing nerve pain. The doctor said there is no nerve damage though, which is good. He just needs rest and a few months of PT before he can ride again. They started him on a steroid, and he said it’s already helping. He’s currently living in the Capri camper parked down by the bunkhouse. Poor guy.” She says the last part with puppy-dog eyes so round they immediately put me on edge. Kacey only looks at me like that when she’s about to talk me into something.
