Late Shift

She hadn’t been on the floor for an hour before the talk started. Every nurse found a reason to swing by her room, you know, peek for themselves and see what all the fuss was about.

“Did you see her?” Rhonda sat behind the main desk, glasses perched on the end of her nose, so happy to be the one to tell me about the latest strange case. It was Rhonda’s thing, she loved the strange, the odd patients. She liked to keep a list that she would read off at the Christmas party every year.
Rhonda’s Favorites never failed to fill the room with laughter.

We usually got one every week or so, a patient that had done something strange or had something strange done to them or had been bitten by something strange. The hospital just happened to be in a pretty big city, which means a lot of people. And a lot of people, means a lot of possibility.

I had already been on shift for six hours and had heard no less than ten nurses, 3 nurse practitioners, and three doctors, talk about the woman in 305C. Everyone had something to say about her and it.

She was on my list of things to run and check on, but Cathedral was busy as fuck because of the holiday and I was already working on five hours overtime for the week. But I had not made it to the far end of wing yet. “No,” I made a note on one chart and picked up another, “but the way everyone’s talking, you would think no one had ever seen a decent prick before.

Also, I guess Dr. Clemons said she was, and I quote, ‘hot as fuck’, end quote.” I laughed. (Dr. Clemons had been known to report doctors who used such language to HR.)

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