“Bring her in,” ordered the attending physician as they entered the ER. “What’s her status?”
“Multiple injuries; a fractured pelvis, broken arm, collapsed lung, and…”
“Mhm, mhm,” the physician acknowledged, nodding as the medical students listed the injuries. He glanced at the chart for the cause of the trauma. “Fall from a significant high place. Likely a high-risk situation. Keep monitoring her and follow the protocols. Prescribe the following medication…”
Val closed her eyes, trying to drown out the noise and find some sleep. She learned to endure the pain, no matter how bad it was, but the constant clamour left her restless.
Quietly, Val bore the agony as best she could. The cold, clinical touch of the residents and the tired, apathetic care of the nurses washed over her, blending in with the endless waves of pain. Relief came in brief and crushing moments, like a Viking ship facing the wrath of the storm god Ægir at the sea, only to return tenfold, accompanied by the staff’s indifference to finish treating another patient and send them on their way.
So that they can free up the bed for another and do it all over.
“It's been a week, but she's not recovering, doctor.”
“I can see that.” The physician waved the nurse away and scribbled down new instructions. “Increase the dosage and add this medication. Report any changes to me immediately.”
“Of course,” the nurse replied with a yawn. “We will.”
Back out the door, the nurse regarded the sleeping Val and muttered, “Can't you just get better like the rest?” before leaving.
Val opened her eyes and sighed into the sterile air. The hard medical bed pressed uncomfortably against her sore back, and the pillow had tilted to the side, leaving her neck unsupported. She tried to sleep but found it impossible in her state, growing increasingly exhausted.
A dry cough escaped her throat, quickly turning into a fit. There was no one nearby to attend to her or notice the blood curling from her lip and dripping from her nose.
“I'm so tired,” Val mumbled under her breath, leaning to the side in resignation. “Just so tired.”
Val closed her eyes, hoping to find some solace—a place where she wouldn't be awake to feel anything and rest. Yet even there it didn't work. Her dreams were plagued by nightmares. Lost in the mountains amidst a blizzard, Val rocked uncomfortably in her sleep and broke into a cold sweat.
Then the storm cleared, turning into a drift of powdery snow on her head. She felt the gentle dabbing of soft cloth on her face. Her chin was cupped and cleaned with care. Tentatively, she opened her blurry eyes to notice someone.
“You'll be alright,” said the woman, cleaning the sweat from Val's face. “I'm here for you,” the nurse affirmed brightly, comforting Val to a cosy sleep.
Over the week, Val's consciousness recovered enough to admire the nurse by her side. A woman with voluminous curly hair, dark chocolate-coloured skin and cold yet comforting blue eyes resembling the icy glaciers of Norway. She had been monitoring Val and provided the warm human touch many of the overworked nurses lacked.
Dark circles ringed Maya's eyes, and Val could smell the lingering scent of coffee on her. Maya yawned into her palm but managed a smile for Val.
“How are you feeling today?” She asked warmly. “I managed to convince them to lower their dosage to mitigate the drugs’ side effects. Do you feel any different?”
“I- t-think,” Val stammered. Maya poured her a glass and helped her drink. Val coughed, “My hand. Hurts.”
“Is the injection needle not sitting right?” Maya wondered, leaning closer to take Val's hand into hers. Her soft, warm hands sent pleasant shivers through Val's body. She was so close, that Val could smell her scent of coffee even more intensely. “Where does it hurt? Tell me when it hurts.”
Slowly and carefully, Maya's hands inspected Val's. She looked bewildered at the nurse’s decollete, but when she looked her in the face, she couldn't help but say, “You're beautiful.”
Maya blushed and fanned her face. “Oh— thank you, I…” She placed her hands on the rose-coloured pants of her scrubs and looked down to hide her red cheeks.
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Val tilted her head towards her and smiled. She couldn't hold her thoughts and added, “Like a goddess.” She gave the compliment without a second thought.
Embarrassed, Maya covered her face and stood up with a quick turn. Val couldn't turn her gaze away from Maya as she walked out. Wistfully, Val sighed, wishing for a few more seconds with her.
“Blood pressure’s normal, doctor,” informed a female resident
“Good,” the physician nodded. “How are the injuries? Did her breathing improve?”
“The patient has shown signs of recovery,” affirmed another resident. “No further complaints about shortness of breath—except for the congenital asthma.”
The doctor looked through his clipboard and turned to Val. “How’s the pain today?”
Val cocked her head, trying to look between the physician and rows of residents. “Seven,” she replied complacently.
“Not good. Continue monitoring,” ordered the doctor. “Rib fractures can take some time to heal—especially with your degree of injuries. Decrease drug dosage and add a morphine line to alleviate further pain.” He waited for a reply and looked at the woman in pink scrubs. “Understood, nurse?”
The doctor turned to Maya, who hid behind a tall resident and had her mouth half full with a double-glazed chocolate doughnut. She gulped and nodded vigorously with her stuffed cheeks.
“Nurse, do we need another conversation about eating while on the job?”
Maya choked on her doughnut and quickly finished it. “Sorry, I didn’t eat anything before I got called in for an emergency.”
“That’s not an excuse to—” The physician noticed the plastic cover peeking out of Maya’s pocket, recognising its shape. She was definitely stashing away another one for later. “Fine,” he sighed. “Please take care of the patient and get something proper to eat later.”
“Of course, obviously,” replied Maya. Discretely but quickly, she sucked the chocolate from her fingers. The physician and everyone else left promptly, and Maya let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll be right with you, Val.” Her stomach growled as she properly washed her hands. Maya grumbled in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Usually, I’m more collected than this.”
Val observed Maya as she took her pulse. The dark circles under her eyes looked just as deep as before, but as she sat there, Val found herself unwittingly scrutinising her. As a nurse, she wore the usual pink scrubs her other colleagues wore, but they pronounced her figure more than on her peers.
Maya was chubby, and the scrubs hugged her bottom and larger thighs. Her current top also didn’t help to cover her neckline and made her cleavage all the more visible whenever she bent forward to change Val’s bandages. Each time she did, the heart monitor beeped uncontrollably, making Maya sceptically check the machine.
“Oh, is it morning already?” remarked Maya, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Do you mind if I open the curtain?”
“It’s. Fine,” rasped Val, watching how Maya waltzed to the windows.
Normally, Val felt no interest or attraction to people—socially, sexually, or romantically. She would hear her sisters talk about hot celebrities, men at the gym, or coworkers who spilt something on their shirt and made it see-through. Her sisters would always sneak looks and tell Val to join, only for her to stare back at them in confusion.
But now, she couldn’t take her eyes off Maya. The rock of her hips when she moved, the outline of her underwear beneath her pants, and the bare skin of her lower back when she tiptoed to open the curtains enthralled her. Val could even spy Maya’s dark belly paunch peeking out beneath her scrubs.
The monitor beeped loudly again when the sun’s rays made Maya’s coils glisten in the light. Her warm smile brightened the room more than the sun, or anything else Val knew in life. So she felt even sadder when the hospital discharged her.
Slowly, Maya wheeled Val outside in a wheelchair, humming a tune. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” she asked. Val agreed, though without Maya’s comforting presence and enchanting personality, Val wasn’t sure if she would have recovered. “Are you happy to be released today?”
“Not. Really,” replied Val and stood up with the help of a crutch. Her blonde, braided hair waved in the wind as she stood before Maya, who craned her head to her. “I’m not happy. Leaving you. So soon. You made my stay. Pleasant.”
Maya blushed and offered a sincere smile. “I’d enjoyed it too, Val. I’m glad you recovered so quickly.”
A frown greased Val’s brow. She hobbled closer to Maya and leaned her crutch against the wheelchair. Her hands slung around Maya and rested on her hip, drawing her closer. “I’ll miss. You.”
“Me too,” replied Maya, and hugging Val back tightly. They’ve grown close during Val’s long stay at the hospital, getting to know each other, and felt the pressure of drawing even closer. “Don’t forget, a nurse and patient can’t have social relationships.”
“But I’m not. A patient,” said Val, cupping Maya’s chin. Their eyes locked on one another, but Val noticed there was still a barrier of reluctance between them. They wanted to breach this wall but needed time. Time to spend together and know how they feel.
Instead, Val kissed Maya’s nose, who laughed at the gesture.
“You’re silly,” said Maya, hugging Val tighter. “Tell me. You never said how you injured yourself so badly.”
It was Val’s turn to blush and look away. Her amber eyes couldn’t handle Maya’s curious stare. “I fell… from the. Stairs.”
Astounded, Maya held her mouth open before proceeding to laugh, much to Val’s embarrassment. “You’re a klutz, aren’t you?”
Val kissed Maya’s forehead and stopped her laughter. Drawing away, Val’s leather jacket fluttered in the wind as she walked away. “I might be. Back Soon. See you. Later—” said Val with a loud yelp when she fell down the flight of stairs to be readmitted to the hospital.