With a flourish, Jenessa signed her name to the
nurses’ notes on a fourth chart. She picked up a stack of papers and the brown
bag containing the lunch she hadn’t had time to eat. All day, the pace in the
Intensive Care unit had been hectic. Two codes. Three admissions in five
minutes, all of them critical. Instead of twenty-seven, she felt more like
seventy.
She waved at the night nurse. “See you tomorrow.”
“That’s two extras in a row,” one of the women called.
“Are you some kind of glutton?”
“Am I? One more
thing and I’m out of here.” She straight-armed the door and headed for the
stairs. After stopping on two other units to collect protest forms, she entered
the stairwell.
Voices, eerie and distorted, drifted from below. The
echo-effect made her wonder if the speakers were male or female. “Don’t worry,
if we just push them a little harder, they’ll walk.”
“You’re right. Who could resist…”
Who were they talking about? She leaned over the railing, but shadows hid
the speakers. The voices faded. A door slammed. She frowned and headed to the
fifth floor where she entered the Nursing Office.
Lorraine Rodgers, one of the evening supervisors,
looked up. “Again? Don’t you get tired of making waves?”
“Is that what I do? I thought I was fulfilling my role
as a good union member and a conscientious nurse. The contract gives us the
right to protest unsafe working conditions. I just make sure they’re
collected.”
The middle-aged woman shook her head. “We all know
this is your personal crusade. Can’t you put the past to rest?”
Jenessa’s hands clenched and she felt the muscles in
her shoulders tighten. “Could you?” She fought a barrage of memories. “See that
Ms. Wallace gets these. Not that she cares.”
“You could give them to her. She’s in the house. The
Board’s meeting to select the new Director and we all know who that will be.”
“Maybe they’ll choose someone else.”
Mrs. Rodgers laughed. “Do you really believe that?
She’s been angling for the job since she arrived. We’ll have to learn to live
with her.”
“Maybe.”
“Another petition asking for Sandra’s removal?”
Jenessa shrugged. “See you tomorrow.”
“You’re on again? Do you work all these extra shifts
just to log complaints?”
“If I don’t, who’d be here for the patients?” Jenessa
strode away.
My Places
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