by Leah Shay
"I'll be outside," Gabby said as she got up to leave.
"Vas a llamar a Mama?"
Are you going to call Mom?
"No."
"Vas a casa esta noche?"
Are you going home tonight?
"Esta noche, no. No quiero que hagas nada estupido."
Not tonight. I don't want you to do anything stupid.
Jared's melancholic look had me concerned now. Gabby was also worried about his expression, which was so frightening that it deemed an immediate call to their mother. I was certain now that Jared had some underlying issues I knew nothing about, something that the family was keeping a secret. I was saddened that I might play a part in the negative turn of his recovery. Now I could see where my decisions about our relationship might have been a bad idea if they had negatively impacted his care. If things ended badly, I deserved disciplinary actions. I gathered the supplies for his pin care and, without a word, removed the sponges from the pins.
"Why do you look so worried?" Jared asked eyeing me closely.
"Why are you so despondent?" I asked.
"Truth or dare?" he asked
"Jared, I'm in no mood for games."
"Truth or dare?" he insisted
I reluctantly gave in. "Truth."
"You answer my question, and I'll answer yours. Why do you look so worried?" he repeated.
"A couple of things bother me."
"I'm listening."
"The first patient who died on me passed from DVTs. This happened my first year out of nursing school. He was a twenty-eight year-old man, very respectful, well-mannered, and his family was super sweet. He was admitted two weeks prior because he had crashed his motor bike and broke his leg. We fixed him up and sent him home. A week later he came back with pain, warmth, and swelling to the leg. I admitted him at three the morning. I told him under no circumstance was he to get out of bed, he said, "Yes, ma'am." The following night when I went back to work, I reminded him: "Please do not get out of bed," and he reiterated his reply from the night before. Later on my shift, I passed by the room and saw his curtains drawn and his family members standing by the door. I asked what was going on and was told that he was having a bowel movement. I freaked out, pulled back the curtain and he was out of bed on a bedside commode."
"Anyway, I got him back in bed. He kept on telling me he was okay. I was still at the bedside talking with his family when he said that he could not breathe. He threw a clot that traveled to his lungs and blocked off the major artery. I called a code; by the time the code team got there, he was unresponsive, and foaming from the mouth. The code team worked on him for a very long time, but could not revive him. He died. I was devastated. I felt the pain of his mother, father, and his fiancé - they were getting married in a couple months. I stood by his bedside, his gray, lifeless body with blood streaming from every orifice, and could not believe that he was gone. I felt like I had lost a family member. I could not complete my shift. I was so devastated, I could not function."
"Now I worry every time I have to take care of a patient with a DVT because it's a time bomb waiting to go off. You can't watch your patients twenty-four hours a day, and you have to hope that they will listen and understand the seriousness of their situation."
"I'm sorry, Kyra." He stretched his hand toward me, stopped in mid-air, and then placed his hand back on the bed.
"What's the second?" he said softly.
"That my actions may be the cause of your current state of mind. My actions have placed such a strain on our patient-nurse relationship, they are affecting your psyche."
"Kyra, you did not pursue me; I pursued you. And you know nothing about my psyche."
"I should know better. Now it's your turn. Why are you so despondent?"
"The moment you leave, I miss you. I miss your face, your voice, your smile." He paused as if he had said too much. "I worry mostly about you driving home in the mornings, if you ate... When you did not show up to work on time and did not answer my calls...You have to understand this is a new territory for me."
This is exactly what I was concerned about - all this worry and stress was not conducive to healing. I also was not expecting to hear all this, and believed he was only telling me half the truth. Something more was going on, and I feared I'd never get the answers from him.
.
J.C held the room door open for me as he entered Jared's room. Gabby was sitting next to Jared. She shook a pill from an orange bottle in his outstretched hand. She quickly closed the bottle and placed it in her expensive handbag. Jared placed the pill in his mouth and washed it down with water.
"I'm sorry, but you can't be taking medication that we know nothing about," I said.
"He's having a migraine; it's just his migraine pills," Gabby said coolly.
"What do you take for your migraines?" I asked Jared.
"Fioricet," Gabby interjected.
"I can get an order for you to take your home meds, but you can't be taking any medication without us knowing."
"I'm sorry, Kyra. It won't happen again," Jared finally said.
"Would you like me to get an order?"
"That's not necessary, Kyra. Thank you," Gabby answered abruptly.
"Can I get you guys anything?" I offered.
"We're good," Jared answered avoiding my eyes.
They were definitely hiding something Jared could not look me in the eye. On admission he told me he had no medical history and he did not take any medication. I know what Fioricets look like and what she gave him was not that, but I'd give them the benefit of the doubt. I opened up my pharmacological application on my phone and searched for images of Fioricet. None looked like the tablet Gabby gave Jared. He was on prescription medication, but for what
I checked on Jared several times throughout the night. J.C. and Gabby were ever present at his bedside. At four o'clock in the morning, I did my rounds. J.C. was with him, but Gabby must have grown tired of the recliner and gone to bed in Room 826. Jared looked restless as he slept. I sat on the bedside chair and watched him. He was getting more agitated, suddenly trashing around the bed: his injured left leg banged against the side rail of the bed. I jumped to my feet and grabbed a hold of his leg to prevent him from banging it again.
"Jared, please wake up," I begged. Fear filled me as my heart hammered away in my chest. He continued to thrash around mumbling inaudible sounds. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
"Jared, wake up!" I shouted.
J.C. jumped from the recliner.
"Kyra, what's going on?" he asked, and was immediately at my side.
"Hold his leg, J.C., and don't let him bang it against the side rail."
"Jay, wake up, man!" J.C. shouted.
"Jared, please wake up!" I slapped his cheek.
He continued to thrash around in the bed. I was scared that our restraining his leg was not such a good idea either. I did what I had to. I held his head steady between my hands and kissed him. I could feel him slowly relaxing under my kiss, and he moaned. His fingers ran through my hair to the back of my head where they tightened in a fist, pulling my hair at the roots, and holding my head in place. His tongue slipped in my mouth for a prolonged, succulent kiss. His lips consumed my lips, his tongue tantalized mine.
I then remembered J.C. was in the room and tried to pull away, but Jared's hand to the back of my head forced me into him, preventing me from escaping his tantalizing kiss. I did not want this glorious kiss to end. Jared aroused sexual desires in me that I wanted filled. The ache in my pelvis, the wetness between my legs, the throbbing of my v-jay: I wanted him so badly. I wanted to feel him inside of me, but I couldn't. Those desires would not be satisfied tonight. He released his hold on the back of my head. My lips hovered an inch from his as I summoned all my strength to fight the raging inferno of emotions that coursed through me down to my pelvis. I tried to recapture his lips.
He smiled. "I thought you said I can't have anything by mouth after midnight."
&nb
sp; His procedure in the morning prevented him from having anything by mouth.
My sigh turned into a moan as I pulled away from him. We were alone. J.C had quietly left, giving us privacy.
"You are so infuriating. Consider that kiss a lifesaving measure."
"Can I have another one of those lifesaving kisses, Nurse Kyra? I truly enjoyed it." He smiled mischievously.
"Mr. Stern, do I have to put you in restraints to stop you from harming yourself?"
"Can you?"
"I could."
"I think I would enjoy that."
"Remember you promised to behave."
"I'm not the one who started it."
"Please, how are you feeling?" I asked seriously.
"No way differently, and I'll let you know if I do."
"Jared, what have you told J.C. about us? And does he know how important it is to keep our relationship a secret?"
"J.C. has many roles. He is head of security; he knows every move I make, sometimes even before I do. Most importantly, he's my closest friend, so don't worry about our secret getting out. He's the one who ensures nobody walks in and finds you in my arms."
I got Jared settled in bed, stood back, calmed my emotions down, and watched him, carefully praying he did not throw a clot. This heart-sinking fear and worry would not cease until he had that filter placed to trap any potentially fatal clots that could travel to his heart or lungs. After which he would be placed on a blood thinner to prevent further clotting until the clot dissolved and his symptoms subsided.
I reflected on a research paper I wrote several years ago in my master's program, and could not believe I was here in the exact same situation I wrote strongly against. It was an ethics paper on unethical patient-nurse relationships. I was appalled and could not believe the statistics on sexual relationships between patients and nurses, which are more common than any regulatory board wants to believe. Why should one give up on love because of where we meet or the role we play in that person's life? A politician, lawyer, or banker does not have to face a regulatory board because they fall in love with a client. As long as it is two consenting adults in their right mind, it's not illegal, does not interfere in care or service rendered, is handled tactfully, and it's love. There is not a wrong place to find true love; it's always right wherever you find it. What I felt for Jared had to be love. It was how he made me feel that tingling, instant attraction, that he was always on my mind, the gravitational pull toward each other, and an immediate click, like we had known each other forever. Nothing was forced between us, so natural, it felt predestined. The only thing that felt wrong was me trying to convince myself that the relationship was crossing professional boundaries, and I had a lot to lose.
I heard Jared's voice in my head calling, "Kyra...Kyra?"
I looked up at him. "I'm fine, Kyra...Are you all right?"
"Why do you always ask if I'm all right?" I asked a bit bothered.
"Because right now you look very..."
"Very what?"
"Anguished...I'm sorry if I scared you."
"That's fine. No more nightmares, please."
What was he dreaming about?
There was a light knock on the door. The door slightly opened enough for J.C to stick his head in. He opened the door wider for Claire to enter. "Kyra, we need you in 817."
"What's going on?"
"The patient slapped Leesa in the face."
I turned to Jared. "How are you feeling?"
"Good. Is everything okay?"
"I've got to take care of something. Please call me if you feel anyway different." I turned to J.C. "Keep a watchful eye on him."
"Claire, can you check on him in five minutes, please?" I asked her as we exited the room.
"Sure, Kyra."
The female patient in 817 had swallowed five razor blades wrapped in paper. The surgeon was able to remove three, but could not find the other two. The doctors had discontinued her intravenous pain medications, which she had grown addicted to, and started her on pills instead. But she had been refusing the pills and the doctors would not reorder the intravenous pain medicine. As I walked by the nurses station, Leesa was there with an ice pack on her cheek.
"Leesa, are you okay? What happened?"
"She asked for pain meds, so I brought her the pills. That's when she started calling me names, leapt out of bed, and slapped me across the face."
"Call security for me, please," I said to Jackie, the unit secretary.
Suddenly there were loud sounds coming from 817. I hurried to the room. Lucy was sitting in bed holding her stomach and screaming at the top of her lungs.
"Lucy!" I shouted. "Lucy!"
She stopped the shouting. "I need my pain meds, bitch."
"Lucy, did you try the pills?"
"I don't want those fucking pills, bitch."
Sometimes I feel like I work on a psych unit.
"How bad is the pain, Lucy, on a scale of one to ten?"
"It's a hundred, bitch," she shouted at me.
"My name is Kyra, not bitch."
"Whatever, bitch."
"Lucy, listen to me. Do me a favor. Take the pills. If they do not work I'll call the doctor, but at least try them."
"No, bitch, you are not listening to me. I want the morphine." She held the central venous line in her hand. "In this!"
Lucy had a central line placed for the administration of medications. She had very bad veins; therefore, a central line that led to her heart was placed in her neck. She held the line tightly in her fist. She had craziness in her eyes.
"Lucy, let the line go," I said calmly.
"I'll pull it out," she screamed at me.
"Lucy, if you do, how are you going to get your meds?"
"I don't care, bitch. I want to die," she shouted.
She yanked the line out of her neck and threw it at me. It landed at my feet. Blood flowed out of her neck down her gown. I slipped some gloves on and stepped toward her.
"Don't fucking touch me, bitch," she said threateningly.
"Let me stop the bleeding, Lucy."
"No! Do not touch me. I want to die."
I wish you had done it properly the first time, but you are not going to die on my shift.
"Where is security?" I shouted.
It seemed like thirty minutes, but in actuality Jackie, the secretary, called for security two minutes ago.
"Kyra, we have to stop the bleeding," Marie said.
All the nurses on the unit were in the room to assist. I loved my coworkers - they were such great team players. We'd all jump into the fire together.
Blood was all over Lucy and the bed.
"Let's restrain her," I said.
We each grabbed a limb to subdue Lucy and I applied pressure to her neck. Lucy screamed and hollered as she tried to fight us off.
"Lucy, let us help you!"
"Leave me alone, stupid bitch. Let me die."
I wish I could.
Finally security came and we restrained her arms and legs to the bed. When Lucy realized she could not move, she started spitting at us. I pinned her head to the left and applied pressure to her neck until the bleeding stopped. Leesa brought in the medication to calm her down and administered it. In no time she relaxed and was knocked out.
After changing out of my bloodied scrubs, I looked in on Lucy and she was asleep, so I removed the restraints. Leesa assured me that she was doing well, and did not have to go to the ER, so I asked her to write an incident report.
"What happened?" Jared asked when I returned to his room. "You've changed."
"It's a messy job."
"Another crazy patient?"
"Something like that."
"I'll be leaving in a little while. Please do not try to get out of bed."
"Kyra, wait. I have something for you." In his hand he held an envelope.
"What's this?"
"My bill of health."
"I haven't done mine yet." I took the envelope from him.
"The results are under a fictitious name, but they're mine."
"I understand." I took the envelope from his hand. "I have some work to complete. I'll see you later."
"Can you text me when you get home?"
"I will."
"You're going to be just fine."
Jared looked at me with sad eyes. "Wish you didn't have to go. I'll see you later."
I kissed him on the forehead, turned to walk away, and paused at the door. "Why does that look seem to have everybody so scared?"
"What look?" he asked. If he was feigning confusion, he was doing a good job at it.
"That look of yours. It scared Gabby last night to the point where she would not leave you."
He thought for a moment. "You understood our conversation?"
"Yes."
"You speak Spanish?" A look of disbelief came over his face, his mind racing through the things I might have heard. "When were you going to tell me?"
"Are you going to answer my question?"
"I don't know what look you are talking about."
"Why didn't you tell me you suffered from migraines and were on medication?"
"It slipped my mind."
"Can I take a look at the medication?"
"Kyra, please let it go."
For now I will.
"Fine. I'll see you later, Jared."
"Bye, Kyra."
Before I left the hospital that morning, Jared was taken to have the filter placed. I'd never seen the hospital send for a patient this early for a filter placement, but then we were talking about Jared Stern - nobody wanted to screw up. I would not have been surprised if they had called in the Interventional Radiologist last night to do the procedure. At least I knew Jared was taken care of and I wouldn't have to worry all day that he might throw a clot before they placed the filter.
.
On my way home I received a call from Jenn. Carmen, her mom, was visiting and I was invited to breakfast. I loved Carmen's cooking, and whenever she came by she always extended an invitation for me to stop in. She was an excellent cook who visited regularly and prepared delicious Spanish cuisine for her daughter and future son-in-law.
Jenn opened the front door and mouthwatering smells propelled me to the kitchen where Carmen was busily placing platters of delectable food on the counter.