at the moment?”
“No, not really. I just want to get outa here as soon as possible. I’ve got a big project at work that really needs my full attention.”
“I understand,” Gin concurred. “I’ll be back in shortly to do a nursing history and assessment so that I can best plan your care while you’re here. In the meantime, here’s a call button, which will alert us if you need anything. You can be up and around in your room if you like, and the bath is just behind me. There’s a TV if you’re interested, or there’s Wi-Fi available if you need to do some computer work. I’ll be back soon,” she reassured him as she left the room.
As she opened the door, Gin almost collided with a small herd of what she assumed must be medical students. Their instructor, Dr. Friedman, was filling them in on the telemetry unit, its capabilities, and how it interfaced with both higher and lower levels of care. Upon seeing Gin, he paused for a brief introduction. “And, ladies and gentlemen, this attractive young lady who almost ran into me is Virginia Morrison, who I believe is now the 7–3 charge nurse on this unit. Isn’t that correct, Ms. Morrison?” he queried, looking over at Gin.
“Yes, sir, as of last week,” Gin smiled, “and a warm welcome to all of you!” she quickly added, looking out over the group.
“Students, I’ll just tell you now—if you need anything while you’re here, this is the young lady you’ll want to find. Ms. Morrison knows everything about this unit and all the patients on it, so I’m sure she will be happy to be a resource for you while you’re here.”
“Thank you, Dr. Friedman,” Gin beamed. “I’ve been here for two years,” she added, “and probably learned a few things during that time. Just make yourselves at home, and I’ll be happy to assist you in any way that I can.”
With that, she started to move out of their midst and back toward the nursing station. In doing so, however, she couldn’t help but notice a tall figure at the back of the group, probably at least a head taller than the rest. He was slim, with piercing brown eyes, long black hair, a black mustache, and darkly tanned skin. Wow! Gin thought to herself. That guy is the spitting image of Yanni! (who just happened to be one of her favorite pianists and recording artists.) Unbelievable, and right on my floor too! This is my lucky day! she thought, moving through the group toward him. As she looked up, her eyes locked onto his for a brief moment, but long enough for goose bumps to appear on her arms. “Hello,” she said, almost instinctively, before she had a chance to recover. In another two seconds she knew the encounter would be over, but not before the sound of his voice almost completely dissolved her entire being.
“Hi there,” came a whimsical, almost-playful response, before their eyes politely unlocked.
“Hope you like it here,” she added in a desperate last moment of engagement as she brushed by, trying not to appear too interested.
“I’m sure I will,” came the reassuring answer floating somewhere behind her now. Oh, if she could only just turn around and look into those dark, soulful eyes one more time, but she dared not. She had to look professional. She had to appear busy. And yet…
“See ya,” Gin added, moving quickly down the hall and hoping beyond all hope that she would indeed see him again soon.
That reverie was quickly interrupted by the sound of the unit secretary’s voice. “Ginny, ER just called up another admission—a 991 call with seizures, cardiac arrest, and loss of consciousness. Some friends called for an ambulance. ER confirms coke overdose. Guy’s awake now, but somewhat disoriented, with continuing tachycardia and elevated BP. They want us to monitor him till he stabilizes, then off to rehab. Is 210 ok?”
“Sure, that’s right across the hall from my last admission. Tom’s crazy night’s now landing on us!”
Minutes later, the elevator door opened, with Marcus attempting to subdue a rather scruffy-looking middle-aged man who was screaming at the top of his lungs. “Get me outa this goddamn place! I don’t belong in here. I just overdid it a little, that’s all. No big deal. Who the fuck is she?” he shrieked in Gin’s direction.
“That’s Ms. Morrison, suh,” Marcus stated almost in a whisper, attempting to calm his patient down. “She gonna take care o’ yo’ ass while you up hea’, get it? Now you jus’ settle yoself down or we gonna settle you down—take yo’ pick, brotha.” Marcus didn’t like it when patients were rude to Gin.
She smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Marcus. Let’s get this gentleman to room 210, ok? What’s his name, by the way?”
Before Marcus could answer, the patient came to his assistance. “Scumby, Frank Fuckin’ Scumby. Now will somebody please get me outa here? There’s nothin’ wrong with me—just a little too much coke, that’s all! And that ain’t no soft drink neither, sweetheart,” he added, struggling with Marcus to get off the gurney.
“Hmmm…that name sounds familiar,” Gin thought out loud. Then she remembered—he was the guy in the psych ward her senior year in nursing school. Jerk then, and still a jerk now. “Well, Mr. Scumby, I believe we have met before.”
Frank stopped struggling for a moment and looked over at Gin with an evil grin. “Oh yeah? Well, hike up your skirt and spread your legs, sweetheart, and I’ll see if I recognize you!” Then with a bit of a sneer, he added, “I’m sure I’d remember those tits, too, if you’d just uncover ’em a bit! Don’t remember if I ever made it to your pussy, but I’ll be happy to take a peek anyway, darlin’.”
Gin felt her face flush as she fought to control herself. “Nursing student, psych ward, two and a half years ago, Mr. Scumby. Unfortunately for you, there’s no instructor between us this time,” she continued convincingly.
“Ahhh…I remember now. Mother hen and the little chickees. One little redheaded chickee that almost lost it. Mama had to shoo her away from ole Frank here. Oh yeah, sweetie, I remember you. Haven’t changed much either, looks like.”
“It appears that you are the one who hasn’t changed much, Mr. Scumby. Still doing the same self-destructive things that require other people to bail you out. Why don’t you just grow up and actually become a contributing member of society? Now that would be something worth remembering!”
“Ouuu…little sensitive, aren’t we darlin’?” Frank jeered. “I’ll tell you what—you unbutton that blouse and give Frankie just one peek at those perky tits of yours an’ I’ll be a reformed man for sure!”
Without hesitating, Ginny replied, “Mr. Scumby, if I thought for one moment that showing you my breasts would turn your life around, rest assured these scrubs would be on the floor faster than you could open your eyes. Unfortunately, I find you to be one of the most vile and disgusting men I have ever had the displeasure of meeting, and quite frankly, ‘Frankie’, I doubt that you will ever be anything but a useless, wasted, poor excuse for a human being. Marcus, please take Mr. Scumbag to his room before I say something I might regret!”
With that, Gin turned and walked down the hall, smiling to herself and leaving Marcus with his eyes as big as saucers and Frank feeling for once that he had lost the upper hand. “Bitch!” he hissed at her back. “Fuckin’ redheaded bitch!”
As Gin walked toward the nurses’ station, she heard the secretary’s voice beckoning her once again. “Ginny, your new admit in 211, Mr. Kingsley, has been calling for you. Seems a bit apprehensive and anxious to get back to work. I told him you would be down as soon as you can.”
“Thanks,
