Page 52 of Resurrect Me

Lucky for me, my boss walks in at this exact moment. Clicking her white pumps against the hard floor. Her crisp white jacket flails backwards as she rushes to me.

“Sit down, Tacy! What in god’s name are you thinking?”

“I need to be discharged. Today,” I say as I rip the IV out of my arm and haphazardly slap a piece of gauze over the gushing vein.

“You have two broken ribs and a zygoma fracture. You need to rest. We don’t even know if you need surgery yet, Tacy. Please sit down.”

“Can you get me the syringe for the catheter, please? I’ll take it out myself,” I say, pointing to the bag of yellow fluid. “And when I come back to work, I’ll chart all of this in my own notes. No need to bother Kayden.”

“Tacy, that’s why I’m visiting today,” she sits at the end of the bed. There’s a clipboard in one of her hands that she holds tight to her chest. “I’m concerned…for your wellbeing.”

I look her in the eye. My brow furrows. “What do you mean, you’re concerned? I’m fine.”

“No…clearly, you’re not. This is the third or fourth time you’ve been hospitalized in the past three months. Twice you passed out. A few weeks ago, you were involved in some sort of violent crime, and now this?”

I clip the IV line and let it fall to the floor. “Violent crime? No, Clara. That’s incorrect.”

“How so? You came in for an evaluation, with photos and a whole report that went to the police. Word has it that you…” she leans in and whispers, “…killed a man.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” I say and rip the heart monitor sticky pads off my chest and stomach. “I never killed the guy. And if you investigated further, you’d see that I was abducted by the fucking creep. I had to fight my way out before he killed me. I never asked to be kidnapped.”

“Regardless, we don’t feel you’re fit to be a nurse in this hospital any longer. Your recent behavior has been…well…erratic.”

“I can see how you’d be concerned for my physical wellbeing. But my erratic behavior? I’m one of the top nurses in the building, all of my patients request me as their nurse, and I won the nurse of the year award the last three years in a row. Explain to me how my behavior is concerning.”

Exhaling loudly, she smooths out her skirt and stands up. Checks her watch and says, “I don’t have time for this.”

“Well, you had enough time to walk in here and criticize me…amid a crisis. So, you should have plenty of time to explain to me why you’re firing me.” There it is. Angry Tacy’s out now and there’s no reining her back in.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Tacy. You know what I’m referring to. Your paranoia about the medication. It’s all in your head. I honestly think you could benefit from a psychological evaluation.”

I click my tongue when I realize what’s really going on. She’s been paid off. She knows about Duselizab. I flash her a sideways smile.

“Really? I’m paranoid. Got it. You know what I really think, Clara? I think you know exactly what that medicine does to people. You know how dangerous it is, but for some god damn reason you won’t do anything to stop it from being administered on your floor. Why is that? Hmm?” I stand and point to the catheter again.

“Sit down, Tacy. Last warning.”

“Give me the catheter kit, Clara. This isyourlast warning. I could give a fuck less what you think about me. Or what you think I need. Syringe, STAT.”

She spins on her heels and heads for the door. “Call your fucking nurse, Tacy. I never want to see your face in this building again. Next time someone abducts you or beats you up, go somewhere else. Just stop bringing your drama and bullshit to my front doorstep.”

She slams the door behind her, and I hear her heels clicking down the hallway. I scan the room and notice a blue bin beside the computer. BINGO. They were going to take out the catheter today anyway. I unlock the wheels on the bed and slowly make my way to the kit. Then I open the kit and remove my own catheter.

I discover my blood-stained clothing in a plastic bag in the closet along with my purse. I rip off the hospital gown and slowly climb back into my damp, dirty clothing. I slip on my white canvas shoes that have taken on a burgundy shade and shuffle to the bathroom to check the mirror. My eye is swollen shut and half of my face looks like an indigo punching bag. My hair, whilein a high ponytail, is caked in brown, flaky blood. I touch my cheekbone and moan in pain. Fuck. I do need surgery. But I don’t give a shit about that right now. I need to find Aris and we need to get our kids away from The Org.

I shoulder my purse and shuffle out the door, down the hallway, and almost make it to the elevator door when my supervisor stops me.

“Tacy, please. You’re in no shape to leave the hospital,” Clara says and gently grabs my wrist. “Come on back. We can get you some pain medication and you can just rest.”

I rip my wrist free from her grasp. And stare her in the eyes. “What’s the medication…Duselizab? No fucking thank you, Clara.”

She pulls a yellow slip of paper from her jacket pocket and clicks a pen. “At least sign this AMA order.”

“You can take your death drug and the AMA and shove them up your greedy ass. If there’s any room left up there next to all the hush money you’ve accepted.”

Her eyes widen, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Yes, you do. Just know, the reckoning is coming,” I say as I waddle into the elevator. Clara stands there staring at me as the doors close. Fucking sell-out.

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