Day 239: Write from the point of view of a nurse who hates the patient that she is charged with helping

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Mr Aristocles. He turned eighty just the other week and as such decided that the whole ward was free reign. Of course, because he’s eighty, it’s not exactly like I can slap him when he says some sexist comment, or pinches someone’s bum on their way past. He talks down to me and, let’s face it, I run the show here.

I can only imagine what the others think of him, if he manages to rattle even me. Especially when the other girls call me the “Hospital’s Thatcher”. I choose to take it as a compliment. That woman was certainly something to behold.

Anyway, I was doing my rounds of patients today and Aristocles takes it too far. He pinched my butt. Now, don’t get me wrong,  I work out for this ass, as well as spending twelve hours on my feet every time I’m in this hellhole, but that doesn’t mean some geriatric just gets to touch it because he’s old. I whirled on him, about to give him a piece of my mind.

Then he just looked lost and old. And alone. That’s the thing that really gets to me, when they look alone. I can deal with the sickness, I can deal with the age.I can’t deal with the fact that they keep looking to the door for someone coming to visit. Half the time, there’s nobody coming except possibly one money grabbing kid or grandkid. The rest are too busy deciding what to do with Granddad’s money.

I tutted and walked out the room. Kira and Misha were at the nurses’ station, so I dove straight into conversation with them. They’d been discussing their worst patients.

“I had one guy, right, who decided that aliens were coming out of his nipples. Now, I get it that it’s wrong to laugh but… Aliens from your nipples? That’s just be painful. Oh, hey Shaz.”

“Hey Kira. How’s the board looking?”

She shrugged. “You know how it is. Long periods of inactivity coupled to brief periods of excitement. Aristocles’ winning though. All he needs for the full run is to have a full breakdown or a heart attack. Extra points if he dies.”

“Well, I’d rather he didn’t. He may be a dirty old pervert but he’s still human. As you should know, Kira.” Kira at least had the decency to look sheepish. Misha looked about ready to bolt.

“Well, we just thought it would lighten the mood around here.”

“He’s still a person. Even if…” The alarms began to wail on the desk behind her, hungry children clamouring for feeding. Their ma turned around and checked all the blinking lights, before she realised. “Shit. Henri’s having a heart attack.” She pointed towards the other two. “Go get the kit. Now!”

Her words were obeyed instantly, even as she disappeared toward the door. She might hate Aristocles’ guts, but she wasn’t going to let him die. Not without a fight.

The Idiot in Tin Foil

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