Nurse Nancy

Over the next two days, Terry realized several things besides the fact that he was lucky he wasn't dead. For one, it was hard to sleep when anytime you moved you felt the pull of the IV needle in your arm. Another problem was the sensor he had clipped to his finger. John said it was there to alert the nurse's station if he went into cardiac arrest. It had come off once and the result was the door slamming open and nurses wheeling in a cart. They were relieved when they saw that he'd just pulled off the sensor by moving his arm too much.

Another thing he realized was that he hadn't felt much pain the first day because he was still feeling the effects of the anesthetic he'd had in surgery. The second day, his jaw and face started to hurt. He was trying to tough it out when John came in to take his blood pressure. John took one look and said, "I'll be right back". A couple minutes later, Terry felt a slight motion on his IV tube and then the pain started to go away.

John took his blood pressure then, and while he was recording the reading from the monitor cuff strapped to Terry's left arm, he told Terry what he'd given him.

"I just gave you some demerol. That's what Doctor Madison prescribed. It's addictive, so don't try to live with the pain until it becomes unbearable. That's how some patients develop a dependency. Their brain begins to equate the relief of pain to the demerol and then even a slight pain triggers the need for it. In a few days, you'll start feeling good enough that you won't need anything as strong as demerol."

One other thing bothered him. When he woke up from surgery, the nurse had been a woman. After that came John during the day and then Harold at night. He wondered what had happened to the woman. When he asked John, John explained.

"Oh, that was Nancy and she was just subbing for Harold because he had to go help his mother for a day. Harold will be back tonight."

It was Terry's third day in intensive care that John told Terry he wouldn't be seeing him anymore.

"Your blood work say's you're back to normal and your facial wounds have started to heal. When I take off your dressings this time, I won't be putting them back on. You'll heal faster if those wounds get some air. The eye bandages will have to stay on until the eye surgeon thinks your cornea has had time to heal. Right after lunch, we'll be transferring you to a private room."

Terry couldn't really tell much difference between the private room and intensive care because he still couldn't see anything. He did have television that he could listen to, so he used that to help pass the time.

Time was moving very slowly for Terry. All his life he'd been always doing something. Now, all he could do was lay in bed and listen to whatever he found on television. The three times a day that something did actually happen were meals, and the meals weren't anything especially exciting. The food wasn't bad, but it didn't have much seasoning and a nurse had to feed him because he couldn't see. He felt like he was two years old because the nurse would tell him to open his mouth and when he did, would stick a spoon full of something in.

The other problem was that his jaw was still a little sore. He couldn't chew very well, so all his food was like baby food. He had mashed potatoes almost every meal except for breakfast, and the meat was either meatloaf that he could break up without actually chewing, or something in pieces so small he didn't have to chew. Breakfast was usually scrambled eggs or oatmeal.

The day nurse was a no-nonsense woman named Sheila who cared for him well, but didn't spend a lot of time doing that. Since he didn't have the IV anymore, he could walk around. If he had to use the bathroom, Sheila would help him out of bed and then lead him to the bathroom. Once he felt the toilet, she'd tell him to knock on the door when he was done and she help him back to bed. Other than that and feeding him, she only checked his blood pressure and temperature a couple times a day, and after the first day she only checked him once.

The nurse who cared for Terry at night said her name was Nurse Wilkins. Nurse Wilkins seemed to be a lot different in that she seemed to spend more time in his room than anywhere else, or at least she did when he was awake. She'd come into his room after he had dinner and ask how he was doing. Then she'd make a fuss about tucking the blanket around him until Terry felt like a mummy. She didn't ever say much. She was just there from the time she walked into the room until he said he was going to sleep.

When he said that, she'd always say, "I'll be here if you need me. All you have to do is ask."

Terry thought her voice was vaguely familiar and he was sure he'd heard those words before, but when he tried to remember when, he figured it had to be that first day when he was still doped up from surgery. Some nurse had probably told him something like that and that's what he remembered.

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A week after he was moved to a private room, the eye surgeon who had treated him came in to examine his right eye. Since it was in the afternoon, the nurse pulled the window blinds shut to block out the sun and then shut off the lights. While the nurse began removing the bandage that held whatever was blocking all the light from his eyes, the doctor explained.

"Officer Meadows, I'm Doctor Thomas Bailey, the surgeon who worked on your eyes. We've blocked out as much light as we can because you've been blind for almost nine days and bright lights could be almost painful.

"What I'm going to do is see if your cornea has healed or if we have to look at another option. I'll have to use my opthalmoscope and it'll be a really bright light, but try not to blink. I'm also going to put a couple drops of anesthetic in your eye just to make sure the lens and pupil are OK."

When the nurse pulled the last of the bandages away, Terry could see a little in what dim light filled the room. The first thing he saw was the two black cups still stuck on the bandage in the nurse's hand. Evidently those cups were what had kept him from seeing even a tiny little bit of light.

He only had time to glance at the nurse, and she wasn't what he thought she'd probably be. She looked to be about fifty when he thought she'd sounded younger. He was starting to say that when Dr. Bailey asked him to lie back down.

As soon as he did, Dr. Bailey used two fingers to open Terry's right eyelid, and a second later, Terry felt something cold being dripped into that eye. A few minutes after that, Dr. Bailey used his fingers to open Terry's eyelid again, and then shined a very bright light in that eye. It didn't really hurt like Dr. Bailey said it might, but he couldn't see anything out of that eye except the light.

For about five minutes, Dr. Bailey moved his light around while he was bent over Terry's face. Then, he straightened up and turned off the light.

"Well, Officer Meadows, your cornea is healing better than I expected, but it's not where I'd like it to be yet. We're going to keep you in the dark for another week and then I'll have another look. The good thing is your cornea is healing and it doesn't look like it'll have any clouding. What that means is you might not need a cornea transplant.

"You'll be happy to know that the rest of your eye is in good shape too. I think I see a tiny little bit of a cataract there, but you'll be an old man before it gets big enough to require anything. Just make sure you always wear your sunglasses when you're outside."

Dr. Bailey left after telling the nurse to bandage Terry's eyes again. Sheila said, "OK, Officer Meadows, it's going to get dark again. Hold still."

That night after dinner, Nurse Wilkins came into Terry's room and said, "Hi, Officer Meadows. I'm sorry you still can't see, but Doctor Bailey knows what he's doing."

While she was taking Terry's blood pressure, he asked her a question that had been bugging him for days but he hadn't figured out a good way to ask.

"Nurse Wilkins, have we met before?"

"No, I don't think so. Why?"

"Well, your voice is familiar but I can't remember where I heard it before. I thought you might know."

Nurse Wilkins took the blood pressure cuff off Terry's arm then.

"I worked in obstetrics before this so unless you were having a baby, I don't see how we could know each other. Now, open your mouth so I can take your temperature."

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As Nurse Wilkins put her thermometer in Terry's mouth, she frowned. She hadn't really lied to Terry, had she? She had been working in obstetrics except for that one night when Harold called in sick and the hospital needed a fill-in nurse in Intensive Care for the night. Nancy was a logical choice because she'd spent three years working in the ER. She'd only started working in Obstetrics because she needed a change. That was three months after her life was turned upside down

It was as if life had something against her and was trying to tell her to just stop living. Well, that's what it had felt like at first, and for a few seconds Nancy had wondered if that was the best way out. That thought didn't last long enough to take root and grow though because she wouldn't let it. She'd become a nurse to help people and the need to continue doing that was still driving her, driving her to endure the pain, both physical and mental, until she could put on her scrubs again and do what she loved doing.

She'd had a plan for life when she started out and that plan had seemed to be working. She'd finish nursing school, get a job, and then start looking around for a husband. They'd marry and she'd have at least two children. She'd still work as a nurse because she couldn't ever give that up, but she'd also be a loving wife and mother.

That plan started falling into place a month after she began working as an ER nurse. The EMT's had brought in a stabbing victim, and Nancy and two other nurses had worked with one of the ER doctors to stabilize the man. When that was done, she'd pulled off her mask, gloves, and the surgical cap that had kept her long, blonde hair out of her face and out of the patient, changed into fresh scrubs, and then started to walk outside for some air that didn't smell like blood and bowels.

She was almost to the door when a man in a suit walked up and asked her if the stabbing victim was alive and if he was, when he could talk with him.

"Nurse, I'm Detective Sam Coventry. That stabbing victim they brought in about an hour ago. Did he make it?"

Nancy had nodded.

"Yes, we got the bleeding under control and he's stable enough for surgery. That's where he is now."

"Any idea when I might be able to talk to him? He's he only one who can tell me who stabbed him."

Nancy shook her head.

"It's hard to say. It depends on what the surgeon finds. The man had four stab wounds. His ribs stopped two before they hit anything vital. The other two were in his stomach. He could have been lucky and only need a few stitches, or he might spend all night on the operating table while they sew his intestines back together.

"They'll finish with him sometime tonight, but he'll still be out of it for a couple hours after that. I'd come back tomorrow morning. If he makes it through surgery, he'll be mostly awake by then."

Sam had thanked her and then smiled.

"I think I'll hang out here for a while just in case they get done with him sooner than later. I better go tell the nurse at the desk what I'm doing though."

Sam had started walking toward the desk then, so Nancy went outside for a few minutes. Her break was cut short when an ambulance pulled up at the door to the ER. Nancy ran back inside to get a new cap, mask, and gloves.

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At seven the next morning, Nancy was walking out of the ER and saw Sam still sitting in a chair. When he saw her, he stood up, walked over, and asked her for her name.

Nancy had smiled.

"Nancy. Why?"

Sam had grinned.

"When I talk to a pretty girl, I like to know her name, that's all, and you're the prettiest girl I've seen in a long time."

Nancy had grinned back.

"That's not a very good line, especially when I look like I look right now."

Sam had shrugged.

"I'm a cop not a writer, and that's the best line I got right now. Besides, you are a very pretty woman. It doesn't look like my victim will be able to talk to me until this afternoon and I'm dying for a cup of coffee and something to eat. Is your cafeteria open? If it is, maybe you'd like to join me."

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That cup of coffee had turned into breakfast, and that first breakfast led to a date on one of the nights they were both off duty. Those dates continued for six months before Sam asked Nancy to move in with him. Nancy didn't have to think about that. She'd been ready to hear that question for the last three months.

Living together hadn't been as easy for Sam and Nancy as it was for most couples. Nancy was still working the late shift at the hospital and Sam worked the day shift unless he was investigating a case. If he was home at night, Nancy was at work, so they had to make some adjustments to their sex life. They'd worked it out though, and decided to wait a couple years before finally marrying and then having kids.

They were seven months into the second year when Nancy was driving to the hospital one night. She was a block from the hospital and stopped at a red light when she saw flashing lights coming down the street to her left. There wasn't much she could do, so she just stayed put when the light turned green.

She thought that since she was close to the hospital, the flashing lights were an ambulance. She didn't see the Mustang until the driver tried to make the corner at what the police officer later said was about seventy.

The Mustang's tires broke loose from the pavement and he rammed Nancy's car on the driver's side door. The impact forced her car into a car parked at the curb. Nancy was pinned in place by the lap and shoulder harness, and the fire department had to cut her out of her car. It wasn't until the EMT's had her on a gurney that they were able to determine the extent of her injuries.

The force of the impact had caused the airbag to deploy, but in doing so, it had broken her nose.

The airbag didn't do anything to stop the injuries to her legs. They were both broken. It also didn't do anything to protect her from the secondary crash that happened when the Mustang rammed her car into a car parked at the curb. The seatbelt and shoulder belt stopped Nancy from being thrown across the seat, but in the process, the shoulder belt crushed her left breast.

Her injuries ended the plans for a wedding, but Sam said he'd waited this long so he could wait some more. It took six weeks before the doctor took off her leg casts and scheduled her for physical therapy. During that same six weeks, Nancy underwent surgery to put her nose back in place. She also noticed the formation of two lumps in her left breast. After a mammogram and a biopsy identified the lumps as tissue that had been injured in the accident, Nancy underwent another surgery to remove them.

Her nose wasn't much different than before. She could see a slight change, but there was no scarring so it didn't really affect her overall appearance. Her breast was a different story.

After the breast surgery, the doctor said it would be a couple weeks before the swelling went down so she shouldn't be concerned about how her breast looked before that. Two weeks later, he said everything looked fine and she didn't have to worry about being able to breast feed when she had children.

When Nancy looked at her breasts in a mirror though, tears came to her eyes. Her right breast was still full and firm and stood out from her chest. Her left breast was obviously smaller and had a sunken spot where the lumps had been.

After Sam saw her naked, he said he loved her and not just her body, but Nancy could tell he wasn't being truthful when Sam said he had to stay the station until Friday night because of a case he was working on. He said they could talk more then.

Two weeks from that afternoon the second tragedy that upended Nancy's life had happened. Sam had been investigating a robbery and had gotten an arrest warrant for his prime suspect. He'd taken another detective and two uniformed officers with him to arrest the suspect, but as soon as they got out of their cars, the suspect opened fire with a pistol.

The other detective came to their house that night with the police chaplain and broke the news to her that Sam had been shot by the suspect and had died in the ER while the doctors were trying to stabilize him for surgery. Then he said that the suspect had been killed in the ensuing gun battle. Nancy figured the detective thought it would make her feel better that Sam's killer had also been killed, but it didn't.

When the doctors cleared Nancy to return to work at the hospital, she knew she couldn't work the ER again. Every gunshot patient who came in would remind her of Sam, and though she hadn't had anything to do with his death, she still felt guilty because she hadn't been there to help him. In her mind, if she'd been able to take care of him, he would have survived.

Since it didn't look like there would be any children in her near future, Nancy asked for a transfer to Obstetrics. She might not have children of her own, but in Obstetrics she could at least care for babies.

When the head nurse told Nancy they needed a nurse in Intensive Care that night, she'd thought about declining, but then reasoned that Intensive Care patients were always people recovering from surgery or heart attacks and wouldn't make her think about Sam. It wasn't until she read Terry's chart and saw that Terry was a police officer who'd been shot that Nancy felt a feeling of dread again.

What if he died, just like Sam had died? She wasn't caring for Sam when he died, but she would be for this officer. If he died, it might be because she didn't do everything she could to keep that from happening, and she couldn't live with that, not after Sam. Nancy thought about going to the head nurse in Intensive Care and telling her she couldn't work with Terry, but then remembered the oath she'd taken when she graduated with a degree in nursing.

I solemnly pledge myself before God and in the presence of this assembly, to pass my life in purity and to practice my profession faithfully.

I will abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous, and will not take or knowingly administer any harmful drug.

I will do all in my power to maintain and elevate the standard of my profession and will hold in confidence all personal matters committed to my keeping and all family affairs coming to my knowledge in the practice of my calling.

With loyalty will I endeavour to aid the physician in his work, and devote myself to the welfare of those committed to my care.

No, she couldn't refuse to work with Terry because of the last part of the oath she'd taken -- to devote herself to the welfare of those committed to her care.

It was for that reason she'd stayed with Terry all night, well, that and the fact that he was a police officer injured while doing his duty. If she could make sure Terry made it through the night, maybe that would make her feel better about losing Sam.

At first, Nancy felt sorry for Terry. He looked like a very strong man and yet had been laid low by just a few lead pellets from a shotgun. She let her mind drift back to Sam. Sam was never just still and relaxed except when he was asleep. He always had to be doing something, and she'd met enough police officers through Sam that she knew most were the same way.

Terry hadn't yet come out of the anesthetic when she walked into his room, but she thought he'd probably be going through hell when he did. Having to just lie in bed with an IV in his arm so he couldn't move much and with cups over his eyes so he was blind would do that to him. She'd seen that when he started to wake up. He'd tried to move his arm and when she stopped him, he'd tried to talk even though he couldn't.