The Storm

My first two patients were simple IV flushes, pain medicine, and refilling their other medicine.

My third, well, she was more complicated. She had pulled her IV out and had blood everywhere. I had to clean her up and get another line started; that took a while.

By the time I was done, I had blood all over my scrubs and I didn’t have a change of clothes with me. It would be out of my way to run home, change, then go to my last patient’s house.

After that, I decided that I was going to carry a bag that had a change of clothes, including shoes, deodorant, and a hair brush with me in my car.

I had just left when my phone rang. I put it on speaker so I can still drive. “Hello?”

“Lynn, it’s Denise. I just got a call from Mr. Anderson’s family. They have decided to take him to a specialist in Helena. You don’t need to go there until Tuesday.”

“Okay.” I hang up. It gave me an extra three hours. I’ll be able to get some decent sleep today.

Finally, I’m home. I shower, eat some noodles, and am now in bed. It doesn’t take long for sleep to take over. The next thing I know my alarm is going off, telling me I have to be at the hospital in an hour.

A five-hour nap, I’m pretty happy with that. I get up, brush my teeth, throw some clothes in a bag, and grab another box of noodles.

Since I had laid down with wet hair, it’s going up in a bun, which seems to be my go-to style of late. I don’t have the time to do much with it these days.

I mean Justin did leave me my blow dryer and curling irons, I just don’t have the time.

For a brief second—and I mean brief second—I consider getting it cut shorter, but I love my long hair and don’t know that I would ever cut it.

My hair falls just below my ass when it’s down. It took me years to get it that long.

Another cup of coffee in hand, I head back to the hospital. Some days it feels like I literally just left this place. Judging by the looks of it, they’ve had a slow day and—knock on wood—we’ll have a slow night also.

It was a nice, steady night—not one trauma which was surprising since we are a trauma center. I guess everyone was being good.

I stopped at the coffee shop before heading to Walter’s. With no traffic, it takes me about an hour to get there. I can’t help but think of how beautiful this drive would be in the fall.

I wind my way up the mountain, enjoying the coolness of the early morning. Their driveway comes into view, and Mary comes running out to my car.

Fearing something is wrong with Walter, I ask, “Mary is everything all right?”

“It’s fine, dear. Well, are you going to keep me waiting?”

“Whatever do you mean?” I follow her into the house.

“Good morning, Lynn!” I hear Walter from down the hall.

“Good morning, Walter,” I greet him back.

“Come eat breakfast, I’m sure you’re hungry,” Mary says, ushering me over to the table.

I am. It doesn’t take me long to finish the plate of French toast in front of me. I make my way down the hall. “How are we feeling today?” I get my supplies ready.

“I’m fine, dear. Would you please tell her what you’re having? She’s driving me crazy.”

“Let’s get your dressings changed.” He rolls slightly so I can change his hip bandages. “It’s looking really good. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s healed by the time I come back. Any trouble with your IV?”

“No, dear.” Mary walks to the other side of his bed and holds his hand, “It’s been flushing fine.”

I finish his hip and changed the dressing on his IV. “I’m glad.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, would you tell me already!” She says, squeezing his hand.

I couldn’t help but smile. “All right, it’s a girl.” I barely finish before Mary started squealing.

Walter pulls me into a hug. “Congratulations, dear. Would you help me into the chair?”

“Of course.” I help him into his wheelchair, and Mary pushes him into the living room. We sit and play checkers for a while until he is ready to go back to bed.

“Here, dear.” Mary hands me two large containers of food.

My mouth waters as I see that she has packed me country-fried steak, mashed potatoes, and a couple pieces of cake. “Mary, you know you don’t need to do this.”

“I like to. Besides you’re taking care of my Walter, the least I can do is take care of you.” She pulls me into a hug.

They are both so kind to me, and I feel tears forming just thinking about not being able to see them and of something happening to Walter.

He has cancer from his time in the Navy. It’s terminal and they seem to be at peace with it.

“Thank you and I’ll see you on Monday,” I say, pulling away from her.

I’m home by noon, put my food in the fridge, and step into a nice hot bath. The hot water eases my muscles and I start to relax into that familiar feeling aching between my legs. I haven’t had sex in months.

My fingers work their way down to my pussy and glide inside. Quickly, I pick up my speed and add another one; it doesn’t take long for me to find my release. It’s not as good as the real thing, but it helps.

I dry off, slip into my pajamas, and sit on my ratty old couch. I was able to pick up a cheap television, VCR, and a bunch of movies. I put one in and it doesn’t take me long to fall asleep.

I slept well, not waking up until eight Saturday morning. That’s what happens when you run for weeks on a few hours of sleep a day.