Page 20 of Rounds
I knocked when I got to the patient room, then opened the door. I walked in to see he was eating breakfast. “Good morning. I’m Delaney, and I’m here to get blood.”
“Ugh!” he said and huffed. “I hate needles.”
I gave him a tight smile, but I didn’t say anything. Once I’d verified his name and birthdate, I grabbed his arm, looking for a vein to draw from. “They normally get it from my hand.”
I glanced up at him. “Is that where you prefer me to go?”
“Yes, ma’am. I hate being stuck more than once. Although it hurts there, I only have to endure it once.”
I nodded and got the butterfly needle from the cart. I wasn’t sure why he didn’t have an IV set up that I could draw from, but whatever the reason, it wasn’t my business. I cleaned his hand then stuck him to get blood.
“Oh shit!” he yelled and jerked his hand, pulling the needle out.
I frowned at him as the blood leaked down his hand. That shit pissed me off. I grabbed an alcohol pad and cleaned his hand, then got a cotton ball and a Band-Aid. Without saying a word, I cleaned the spot I was going to go into initially.
“You’re not sticking me again.”
“It’s your fault why I have to stick you again. You jerked your hand and caused the needle to come out.”
“Get me someone else!”
I politely gathered my things and threw the needle in the proper receptacle, and nearly walked into Dr. Israel. He had a slight frown on his face, but I didn’t give a fuck. “He wants someone else. He jerked and caused the needle to come out, but he’s acting like that’s my fault.”
I took off my gloves and threw them in the trash and sanitized my hands on my way out of the door, not giving hima chance to respond. I went straight to the nurses’ station and told them he requested someone else stick him. They all looked dumbfounded. I never had a patient request someone else. I entered the details of what happened in his chart, then went to the next patient.
Before I could walk inside the patient’s room, I heard my name being called. I turned to see Dr. Israel approaching me. “Is that all that happened? He said you were rude.”
“I wasn’t rude, but I guess like the customer at businesses, the patient is always right, huh? I told him what I was there for, gave him a slight smile, and proceeded to do my job, sticking him wherehewanted me to stick him.”
I tried to walk away from him, but he grabbed my arm. “Maybe you should go home and start over.”
“Maybe you should mind your business.”
I jerked away from him and went inside the next patient’s room and did my damn job. By the time I had taken care of all my patients and had come out of the last patient room, my supervisor was on the floor. I rolled my eyes. This day couldn’t get any worse. I was mild until Tremeka told me everyone knew what I was doing, and Glover sent those flowers. My feelings were on my sleeve as is. When I got to the nurses’ station, she gave me a sympathetic smile.
“Are you done with this floor?”
“Yes.”
When I left the computer, she followed me to the elevator. Once we were on, she extended an envelope to me. I frowned. “What’s this?” I asked as I opened it to see cash inside it.
I shook my head rapidly.
“Please take it, Delaney, so you can get a hotel room for a couple of nights. You’re on edge, and I know that’s because of the situation you’re in. Let us help you.”
“No. Take this back,” I said, shoving it into her chest. “I can handle it.”
She stood there, looking sad and confused. It was only lunch time, but I was ready to leave, even if that was to just go to my car. Glancing at her, I asked, “Who called you?”
“Dr. Israel.”
That only pissed me off more. I nodded repeatedly. When the elevator doors opened, I powerwalked to our department, yanked my badge off and grabbed my purse. I needed to go calm my nerves. I didn’t need their charity either. She probably told him why I was on edge. This shit was so fucked up. The most horrible part about it was that I knew my stress and depression was making the situation worse than what it was.
I didn’t need their fucking help. I needed to be respected as an individual who needed their space. I hated for people to crowd me when I wasn’t feeling social, but it was even worse when they pushed and tried to assess what they thought I needed. This shit was going to make me have a nervous breakdown. When I got outside to the parking garage, I took deep breaths, desperately trying to keep it together.
By the time I got to my car, I could no longer restrain it. I broke. I cried hard, barely able to even open the door. This shit was hard to pull myself out of. I finally opened the door and got in my car, starting the engine and resting my head on the steering wheel. I turned the A/C on full blast, because I felt like I was about to throw up. It wasn’t even warm outside. It was actually cold, but apparently not cold enough for my body since I felt like I was about to sweat.
I grabbed napkins from my console to pat my face, then did the unthinkable. I called my mama. She probably wouldn’t answer. She was always doing her own thing . . . living her best life, as she would say. I let it ring until it went to voicemail. Justlike I figured, she didn’t answer. I wiped my face again and blew my nose then pulled out of my parking spot to go get a smoothie.
