Those Overly Exaggerating Nursing Stories - page 4

Do you ever read those stories from nurses that completely play up and skew what nursing actually is for the sake of an article? I see them now and again and I distinctly remember them all over the... Read More

  1. by   amoLucia
    "Reluctantly I start down that shrouded hallway. Dim moonlight peers through some windows only to emphasize the isolation and loneliness felt by others in this deserted place. Is there anyone who visits these lonely ones? Does anyone love them? Did they love anyone?

    I approach the first room to my left. I gaze upon the bed's occupant. Her withered, gnarly hands tightly clutch the rails that almost seem to imprison her within her bed. I think to myself "did she ever feel the emotions I do at this time?". Did she ever love someone deeply, but deeper still, did anyone love HER as deeply as I love HIM? She smiles ever so faintly as I come close. "I know all about it, dear. I understand him now. Yes, you should". I look at her, startled and bewildered. Am I such an easy read? Does she know the torment I am facing? "Stay with me til my love comes home to me", she pleads. With a muffled gasp I leave her.

    By sheer force I stop to check the ancient mariner across mid-hall. Angry words, hurtful words hiss out of his mouth. The anger just bubbles from him, much like the bubbling air machine that provides the precious air which he uses to spew such awfulness. NO family remembers him. No long-lost children or grandchildren ever visit. No prayers will ever be offered when the time comes for him to cross over into that Great Abyss. His eyes squint to focus on me, but they are unseeing. "Why did you let this happen to me", he bellows as spittle drips. "Fix me", he demands. Immense waves of impotency flood my senses. I can do very little do meet his demand, but I feel some twinge of guilt that I must. Darkness and quiet becomes overwhelming.

    I so desperately want to retreat to my sheltered safe place, my safe harbor. ...
  2. by   amoLucia
    "I stumble out of his room to continue my rounds only to hear some faint cry of "I'm hungry", "is it breakfast time?", "is that the breakfast bell"? Tracing those sounds down the far end on the darkened hall I hear those distant calls again. Echoing in the silence, I hear them, and then I remember.

    'Once a nurse, always a nurse' as I was once scolded. A member of the class of 1913, revered and respected by the many who followed in her footsteps. Her voice, clear as a bell, could still bark out orders. A military career in the day when women nurses first served their country, she demanded and rightfully earned distinction. Posture straight as an arrow, she commanded attention.

    An honored and beloved professor emeritus in her late career, she was now calling out in her mind's mixed jumble of realities and memories. What stories she told us naïve students of duty shifts long past. But now revisiting some distant time and place none of us could travel with her. How lonely for her and others like her.

    A cup of ginger tea gently relaxed time and chased the shadows for the moment. Such a small effort. And soon all was quiet again.

    With overwhelming trepidation I face the return back the hall. I still need to face my fear .. my passion ...
  3. by   amoLucia
    This is a great opportunity for any & all to jump in and continue the story. It is quite fun to be soooo dramatic.
  4. by   amoLucia
    "I turn pushing my steps out to the finally quiet corridor. Suddenly a new voice is calling aloud. I recognize that voice and I stop in my steps. Suddenly the urge to flee is all but overwhelming. The stairs to the back hall, rarely used, beckon to me. I could slip out; no one would be the wiser. I would be able to avoid all the conflict that tears at me. I pass thru those portals, ready to bound down those cob-webbed steps, but I stop in the foyer.

    Abandonment. That's what it would be. The coward's way out. I AM braver than that. Or am I! I have to face him. I HAVE TO. He has to know. I owe that to him. But I also owe it to myself.

    Ever so quietly, I tiptoe his room. He gazes upon me as he whispers my name. Almost like half a secret, half a prayer. I start to involuntarily respond; my eyes finely pierce the darkness, my breath catches in short rapid gasps, my heart rate flutters away bounding in my ears. I feel my adrenaline surge. Fight or flight! How I wish I had fled down those stairwell steps! But I am here now.

    Our fingertips touch ever so lightly. A wisp of my tresses falls to my shoulders and he brushes it away. Just the briefest feather of touches. I back away. 'Not now, not ever'. There are the others'. There. I finally uttered those terrible words. Our pasts come jumbling out to catch up to our presents, like thunder and lightening from distant malevolent storms. Previous loves, previous avocations, promises made long ago. I can't back away far enough. Demons long thought buried are alive as ever. And ever present.

    'But I will wait', he husks. That awful roar is starting to muffle. A sense of calm begins to appear. A cool breeze blows through the corridor. Refreshing. Renewing. Affirming. Just like his wistful smile."
  5. by   Davey Do
    Quote from amoLucia
    This is a great opportunity for any & all to jump in and continue the story. It is quite fun to be soooo dramatic.
    I bow to the to the Master... uh: Mistress?

    See- I'm no good with this stimulatingly romantic kind of stuff. I got written up one time for telling a Coworker that she had a nice voice.

    Well, I did add that she should consider getting a job as a 900 Number Lady.

    Please. Carry on.
  6. by   VivaLasViejas
    I love it...Harlequin romance novels come to Allnurses. LOL!!
  7. by   amoLucia
    Quote from Davey Do
    I bow to the to the Master... uh: Mistress?

    See- I'm no good with this stimulatingly romantic kind of stuff. I got written up one time for telling a Coworker that she had a nice voice.

    Well, I did add that she should consider getting a job as a 900 Number Lady.

    Please. Carry on.
    Carrying on is what I have thought of for the future.

    But the story needs some 'contributing authors'. It is so fun to use all the flowery words and the chance to backwards, talk. Dramatic pauses, rhetoricals, ellipses ...
  8. by   Not_A_Hat_Person
    It doesn't bother me. Weird stuff happens. In the immortal words of Letters to Penthouse, "I wouldn't have believed it if it hadn't happened to me."
  9. by   amoLucia
    I struggled to wait. Six years of 'waiting' Six years. "Time DOES NOT fly. I suffered an excruciating, abruptly painful, agonizingly slow 6 year journey. Like a prison sentence. I hesitated until I believed all was well, believing that he would wait as he said he would all those years long past. But he followed a mistress too intriguing, too powerful and so demanding that I was no competition' albeit my pitiful efforts.

    I tried to follow. My travels took me afar, to many a foreign locale. To the many women with children and old men, I was ""doctora" or "enferma". I saw humanity at it worst, but also at its best. People needing my skills, the application of all I knew as an art & science was of little import when it could do little for myself. But just the knowledge that HE was somewhere near made it all worthwhile and bearable.

    I could face the solitude. Or so I thought. Until that one night, ...

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