After collapsing at my desk from pulling a string of all-nighters, I dragged my exhausted body to the hospital. The doctor wrote me a prescription for an IV drip, and I settled into the hospital bed, hoping to finally catch some sleep while the fluid did its work. I’d just drifted off when a sharp voice jolted me awake. “You can’t just fall asleep while you’re on a drip alone! What if something happens and no one’s watching?” Her tone was pure accusation. I pointed to the IV alarm clipped to my arm. “I bought this,” I explained, my voice raspy. “It’ll beep when the bag is almost empty.” The young nurse just rolled her eyes dismissively and walked away. A few minutes later, she was back, shaking me awake again. “Why isn’t your little gadget beeping? What if it’s broken? It’s a big deal if we miss changing the bag,” she said, her brow furrowed in exaggerated concern. My head was pounding. I fought back a wave of irritation. “The bag isn’t finished yet. It’ll go off when it’s time.” I turned over, desperate for sleep. The second I closed my eyes, a searing pain exploded across my cheek. The nurse had slapped me. The shock of it ripped me back to full consciousness. She was smiling, a smug look on her face. “Since you trust this alarm so much, why don’t you sign this?” “Once you sign,” she said, shoving a piece of paper at me, “anything that happens to you during this drip has nothing to do with me.” 1 I had fainted at my desk after powering through several sleepless nights to finish a project proposal. My boss, panicked, had rushed me to the hospital himself. He even gave me his blessing to go straight home and rest after the drip, knowing I had to face our demanding client tomorrow. The infusion room wasn’t quiet, but I was so sleep-deprived that the low hum of voices was a lullaby. After one last check of the blueprints I’d brought with me, I finally let my eyes close. I was deep in a dream when a piercing voice shattered the peace. “Hey! You can’t sleep while you’re on an IV, not when you’re here alone!” My eyelids felt like they were weighted down with lead. I tried to open them, but they wouldn’t budge. “Hey! What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me talking to you?” “Don’t pretend! I know you’re awake. I saw your eyelids twitch!” The voice was a drill boring into my skull. Even a corpse would have been woken up by now. I finally managed to pry my eyes open. A young nurse was standing over my bed, hands on her hips, looking down at me like I was something she’d stepped in. “I knew you were faking,” she sniffed. “Making me call you all those times. What, you enjoy the feeling of being waited on?” I recognized her. She was the one who had set up my IV. It had taken her five tries to find a vein. I hadn’t said a word, but she’d been the one with tears welling in her eyes, as if I were the one bullying her. I sighed, my throat raw. “Is there a problem?” Honestly, I had no idea how someone with her attitude became a nurse. Even if I wanted to feel “waited on,” a hospital would be the last place I’d choose. Who enjoys being in a hospital? She gave a slight roll of her eyes. “What’s your deal? Coming in for a drip and not even a boyfriend to keep you company? And then you just pass out. What happens if the bag runs out?” Her voice was high and loud. The room fell silent. Everyone turned to stare at me, as if not having a boyfriend here was some kind of capital offense. Being woken up like that after finally finding a moment of peace was starting to piss me off. Still, I kept my anger in check and asked in the calmest voice I could manage, “Don’t you have nurses who make rounds? When the bag is empty, someone will come change it, right?” This wasn’t my first time getting an IV. On previous visits, there were always nurses keeping an eye on things. You didn’t need a chaperone. That’s why I’d told my boss he didn’t need to have a coworker stay with me. At my words, the young nurse’s thin eyebrows shot up. “Easy for you to say. Can’t you see how many people are in here? How am I supposed to take care of everyone by myself?” she snapped. “Just because you paid for the drip doesn’t mean you can act like a queen and expect us to serve you. Nurses are people too. A little consideration would be nice. We’re not your personal maids, you know.” I wanted to tell her that staffing was the hospital’s problem, not mine. And I wasn’t dying; if I needed a personal maid, I wouldn’t be hiring a nurse. But as I opened my mouth, a wave of nausea hit me. I clamped it shut to keep from throwing up. That just seemed to encourage her. “Hey, you look old enough to know better. You’re not considerate at all. No wonder you don’t have a man here with you.” She then muttered under her breath, “No boyfriend, not even any friends? I can tell you’re not a very popular person.” 2 Rage flared in my chest, making my headache even worse. How did getting an IV drip turn into a referendum on my love life and my character? Are single people not allowed to get sick? I wanted to fire back, but I was too dizzy, too drained. All I wanted was to sleep. I gave a weak wave of my hand. “Thanks for your concern,” I said quietly. “I’ll handle it.” She stared at me. “How are you going to handle it? You gonna call your boyfriend to come over?” I had no idea why she was so obsessed with my non-existent boyfriend. My life was just work, work, work. I was so exhausted I couldn’t even stand the sight of my own reflection, let alone have the energy for a relationship. Honestly, if I did have a boyfriend, I’d be starting to suspect this nurse was his side piece. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said wearily, “but that won’t stop me from handling this.” For some reason, that just seemed to make her angrier. I pulled out my phone, opened a delivery app, and ordered an IV alarm from the nearest pharmacy for rush delivery. I used to use one all the time; it would start beeping when the drip was about to finish. But since I’d come straight from the office, I didn’t have it with me. While I waited for the delivery, I sat up, too afraid of being woken up again to lie down. I glanced around the room and saw the young nurse whispering with another nurse. She was laughing, and she pointed in my direction. The other nurse covered her mouth in shock, then started laughing too. Annoyed, I turned away and took a few sips of water. The alarm arrived quickly. The delivery guy was nice enough to help me clip it onto the IV tube and even tested it to make sure it worked before he left. Just then, the nurse returned. She was changing the IV bag for the patient in the bed next to mine, talking to them in a sickly-sweet, passive-aggressive tone. “You know, some women think they can use their looks to flirt with every man they see. Even the delivery guy. It’s just so classless.” I was just about to lie down, but her words stopped me cold. “Who are you calling a flirt?” I demanded. My eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. The constant interruptions had me on a hair trigger. My glare must have been terrifying, because she flinched and her eyes darted away. “I wasn’t talking about anyone in particular,” she muttered, biting her lip before scurrying off. I fell back onto the bed, completely drained. I’ve never seen this nurse before in my life, I thought, bewildered. What did I ever do to her? She butchered my arm five times and I didn't say a thing, and this is how she repays me? I should have filed a complaint after the second failed attempt. Muttering curses under my breath, it took me a long time to fall back asleep. I dreamed I had wowed the client. My boss gave me a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus and a month-long vacation. I was cheering in my dream when suddenly, someone shoved me, hard. The sensation was like being pushed off a cliff. My eyes flew open. And there she was. The nurse. A persistent, walking nightmare. She pointed at the alarm on my IV line. “This thing hasn’t made a sound. Are you sure it even works? If it’s defective and we miss the bag change, that could be a problem.” I gasped for breath, my heart hammering in my chest. For fuck’s sake, I screamed in my head. “The bag isn’t finished yet, of course it’s not beeping,” I said, my voice trembling. “It will alert me when it’s time.” The sudden shove had left me shaken, my heart pounding like a drum. The nurse eyed me suspiciously. “Why are you shaking? You don’t sound very confident. Are you lying?” I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to calm down. “I’m shaking because you scared the hell out of me! And why would I lie to you? What could I possibly gain from that? All I want is to sleep. Please, just leave me alone.” The frustration and exhaustion of being repeatedly disturbed finally boiled over, and my voice rose with each word. Her eyes widened, and tears instantly filled them. I had to laugh, a bitter, humorless sound. With acting skills like that, she should be in Hollywood, not here. The girl started crying, waving her hands defensively. “Ma’am, you must have misunderstood! I was just trying to be helpful, looking out for your well-being.” “You can’t blame me for your heart trouble, that’s not fair,” she sobbed. “You came to the hospital because you were already sick. Your health issues are your own problem, they have nothing to do with me.” 3 The nurse was young, probably just out of her teens, with a pale, innocent-looking face. Her tear-streaked performance was apparently very convincing, because it didn’t take long for someone to jump to her defense. A burly guy from a few beds over yelled at me, “Hey, the nurse is just doing her job! What’s with the attitude?” Seeing she had a supporter, the nurse’s sobs grew louder. “Thank you, sir. I’m just an intern… I’m so glad someone understands.” “If she blamed me for this, I could lose my job,” she whimpered. Her little act unleashed a wave of sympathy. “Come on, lady, she’s just a kid. You remember what it was like starting your first job, right? Don’t make things hard for her,” an older woman chimed in. “Yeah, I saw you when your coworker brought you in. You looked awful. You can’t blame the nurse for you being sick.” “I’ve heard about girls who get super catty and competitive over nothing. I guess they’ll even pick a fight with a pretty nurse…” The chorus of accusations completely chased away any hope of sleep. I sat up straight and fixed my gaze on the burly guy. “You saw me raise my voice at her, but you were blind when she was harassing me over and over?” Then I turned to the old woman. “I may be older than her, but when I was starting out, I knew how to respect people. I told her I have an IV alarm. I specifically asked her not to wake me. But she wouldn't listen. She waited until I was asleep to bother me every single time. I have every reason to believe she’s doing it on purpose!” I scanned the room. “And all of you, you know I’m not well, yet you’re ganging up on me to defend her. If my condition gets worse because of this, every single one of you will be hearing from my lawyer!” It’s easy to be righteous when it’s not your problem. The moment I mentioned their own potential liability, they all shut up. With her backup gone, the nurse’s performance ended. She wiped away her crocodile tears and stalked off. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and looked up at my IV bag. There was still a fair bit left, probably another half hour to go. I lay back down, thinking, Finally, I can get some real rest. But just as I was drifting off, I heard a sharp smack. A searing pain shot across my face. I jerked my eyes open. The nurse was just pulling her hand back. It hit me. She had just slapped me.
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