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“But I am going to do a neurological exam anyway,” the doctor says, looking up from the computer. She tracks Angela’s eye movements, and then asks her a series of questions abouthow she’s feeling. I try to pay attention, but the whole time I just think about Angela falling and hitting her head.
“You’re fine,” the doctor tells Angela. “But you do need to rest. One more bag of saline, and then you’re going home, and staying there through tomorrow. I don’t want to see you in this place for at least another three days.”
“Fine by me. But tell that to Tony,” Angela says.
The doctor frowns. “Have you been picking up all these extra shifts because of him?”
Angela nods.
“Well, I’ll let him know you won’t be coming in for a few days,” the doctor says. “I also have to report this to HR, as director of the ER. We can’t have nurses fainting on shifts.”
Angela nods. “I know,” she says. “I’m happy for you to report it.”
“Good,” Dr. Gupta says. “Aline will be in to change the IV bag in a few minutes.”
“Thanks Dr. Gupta.”
The doctor leaves and I scoot my chair closer to Angela’s bed, taking her hand in mine. She looks small and pale in the fluorescent lighting, and I want to wrap her up in my arms and cradle her against my chest—protect her from the whole world.
Despite the fact that Angela said she feels fine, she doesn’tlookfine. The expression on her face is one of utter defeat, and she’s not even attempting to hide her emotions like she normally does.
“How are you really doing?” I ask her gently, stroking her hand.
Her face crumples instantly, tears snaking down her cheeks, her usual composure and poise absolutely shattered.
“I’m just so tired,” she says in between sobs. “I never work six shifts in a row. And I’ve been sleeping okay, but last night I got so anxious about making sure I was rested for work, that I tossedand turned all night. When I got to work, I just completely forgot to eat or drink because I was so focused on making sure I did everything correctly and that I made it through the shift, and I just…I just…” She trails off and wipes her face with her sleeve.
“Where is Tony?” I ask.
“Why?”
“So I can punch him in the throat,” I say, completely serious.
Angela laughs at that, and says, “He’s with a patient right now.”
“I hope he gets fired for this,” I say darkly.
“Me too,” Aline says brightly, pushing the curtains aside. “I’m here to change your saline.”
“Thanks Aline,” Angela says. “I’m sorry about this. I know it means you’ll be understaffed for the rest of the day.”
“We’ll be fine. It’s a slow day and you’ve been here nearly a week straight. I’ll pick up the slack.”
Aline quickly changes the bag and leaves us be. Angela closes her eyes and tries to nap a bit while the IV empties. I check my email again, and with shaking hands click on the email titled “Interview request for position 4505.” I skim through it but it’s what I expected—the university wants to interview me for the year-long position I applied for, and it’s next week on Monday.
I click on the email below it, and hold my breath as I do.
“We are pleased to confirm that you have been successful in attaining the position of postdoctoral research assistant on the project…”
I exit out of the email immediately. I don’t need to read the rest of it—especially since I’m not accepting the position.
Still, elation shoots through me at the fact that I got a job.
I close my email and watch Angela nap for a bit. The fact that she’s actually asleep tells me that she’s truly exhausted. She can’t nap easily with her insomnia and has told me before that she hates sleeping in new places.
Outside the curtains, I hear a raised voice saying, “You have to let us see our daughter! It’s the law.”
“Kate, honey, the nurse is taking us to her right now.”
