Thursday, January 28, 2016

Microstory 244: Perspective Nineteen

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Perspective Eighteen

I’ve been on shift for far too long; even longer than usual. My eyelids are dropping, and I can feel memories floating away from my brain. I mean that I’m consciously thinking about what kind of medications to give to my current patient, but as I’m trying to focus on them, they disappear. Fortunately, we write everything down, so I’m at very little risk of messing something up, but still. I just need a little sleep. There’s this corner just inside the backroom where no one can see me, including the cameras. I often stand there and rest my eyes, and I swear it helps. I think I’ve successfully taught myself to sleep standing up. But someone is in there right now. My boss sends me a text message, telling me he’s taking me up on my offer to go on the cruise. Wait, what? No, that text is from my uptight mother. My boss is summoning me to his office. That makes more sense. I glide upstairs and enter the office, plopping myself down on the chair. I stare out the window where his face should be. He must have stepped out for a second. No, that’s not right. This isn’t his office. Where the hell am I? I reluctantly get up and head for the right place. He goes on and on about being a team player and contributing to the successes of the group, and blah blah blah. I’m not listening. He’s so long-winded and aggravating. Can’t he just shut up and let me sleep? But then I catch a few words in his speech that don’t fit; just between us, and being a good girl, and maybe a raise. He would never mention giving me a raise, and what was that about a pillow? I roll the back of my head back and forth against the chair then let my eyes close completely. I don’t want to get fired, but I just can’t take it anymore. Even nurses need sleep, believe it or not. I feel myself being dragged over to the couch, and I carelessly try to fight him off. Sleep and let it happen, or run. Yes, run. I have to go. Straight to human resources.

Perspective Twenty

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