Graveyard Shift Read online

  Amanda lifted the blanket higher on Carmel’s shoulder and then stepped away from the bed. As she was passing the bathroom in the room she noticed the fluorescent light flickering. Flipping the switch, she made a mental note to mention to Maintenance that the bulb in that room should be changed or adjusted.

  She jerked back, covering her nose at a foul smell that drifted in the air around her. It hadn’t been there before when she first entered room eleven. She turned the bathroom light back on, deciding to check it. It wouldn’t be the first time that a resident had used the toilet without flushing. But when she entered everything was pristine, right to the tiled blue floor. Odd.

  Casting a quick look at the beds and their occupants, she decided one of them must be suffering from gas, fouling the air. She wrinkled her nose at the odor. That was part of the glamorous life as a nurse, right? She shook her head ruefully as she headed to the door.

  She left the room, walking quickly to the Nursing station to help Courtney with the meds. Some of the drugs were Phenobarbitals and a second set of eyes prevented any error occurring.

  Courtney’s head shot up seeing Amanda leaving room eleven and head back to the nursing station. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  Amanda shrugged. “Settling Carmel in again.” She pointed at the call button display and flicked the blinking light off.

  Like a confused barnyard chicken, Courtney’s head flitted from Amanda, to the corridor, and back again. “Yeah, but...”

  “But what?”

  Courtney gave her head a small shake. “Nothing, I guess. I’m overtired.”

  Amanda came around the counter. “What?”

  A small laugh erupted from Courtney’s throat. “It’s nothing. I thought I saw you come out of the room a few minutes ago and head down the corridor is all. I was working on the charts and thought I saw that from the corner of my eye. I figured you were checking the other residents or something.” She sat back in her chair and stretched, yawning. “So when you came out just now it threw me.”

  Amanda plopped into the chair beside her. “Nope, I was in Carmel’s room the whole time.”

  Courtney shrugged. “No biggie. I didn’t even look up completely when it happened, just a side view.” She tapped the monitor screen before her. “I was trying to get all the shift notes in.” She yawned again. “Oh man, do I need a good night’s sleep.”

  THREE

  WHEN AMANDA ARRIVED HOME that morning, it was a little before nine. She tossed her keys on the stand by the door and wandered into the kitchen. Her husband, Will was still in his pajama bottoms and T-shirt sitting at the table having breakfast, but at least he was up. That was a positive sign considering how tired he’d been lately.

  He turned and a smile lit his face, “Hey! How was work? Anything exciting happen?” There were bags under his eyes and a few days of beard growth bristled his jaw.

  She stepped over to him and ran a hand along his cheek. “Nothing exciting. There’s a new patient who kept me busy for a while. First night, disoriented, nightmares. She thought she was in a hotel the second time I went in.” Walking over to the fridge, she plucked the carton of orange juice from the shelf. “Did Kelly get off to school okay?”

  “Yeah, although she nearly missed the bus. Again. She spends too much time getting ready. It’s grade seven not the Academy Awards.” Will picked up his empty bowl and coffee mug before trudging to the sink to set them in there.

  On auto-pilot Amanda plucked the items out and stacked them in the dishwasher. How many times in the last while since Will was ill from Chronic Fatigue had he walked by the dishwasher to dump his dishes into the sink for her to load? But one thing at a time. First he had to get better...If he ever got better.

  She shook her head. No. He would get better. They’d be a family like they’d always had been. Maybe even better if...She tried not to dwell on the next thought. The biological clock was ticking and if they were ever going to have a second child it had better be soon. Even with the set-back in Will’s health, she wasn’t willing to give up on that dream...not yet.

  “What’re your plans for the day?” She folded her arms over her chest looking up at him. “Are you seeing the doctor?”

  He looked away for a moment and sighed. “Look honey, I know this isn’t easy on you. I appreciate all that you do, taking on any extra shifts and keeping the house looking nice. I’m trying. Really I am. The doctor said I should try to get into a regular routine, walking and getting out rather than moping around. I thought I’d try to go as far as the library today. Maybe tomorrow I’ll make it to the park.”

  Amanda felt the weight of guilt settle on her back. It wasn’t his fault he was sick. He was taking his meds and really trying. She’d have to be patient. She went over and put her arms around his muscled torso. Years of muscle built from working in construction, putting in twelve hour days, seven days a week when needed. He wasn’t lazy. This was a medical condition.

  “I know. I think you should do what the doctor ordered but don’t overtire yourself, okay?” She looked up into his dark chocolate eyes, seeing the man she had fallen in love with. He was the same guy, just stricken with this rotten disease. She also knew that if he overdid it, he could end up in bed for days, which wouldn’t help his mental state either.

  Will let out a long sigh into her hair pulling her closer. “I’ll stop and rest if I get tired. Hell, I’ll call a cab to get home if I have to.” He kissed her forehead, “But you must be pretty exhausted right now. I’ll just change and then I promise I’ll be out of your hair to let you sleep. I promise to be here when Kelly gets home so that she doesn’t wake you.”

  She squeezed his hand and led the way into the bedroom. As she changed out of her scrubs she could hear the spray of the shower from the adjoining bathroom. She got into bed but picked up a book to read. There was no way she was going to sleep without giving him a kiss before he started his day.

  Fighting sleep, she looked up when he emerged from the bathroom. He was freshly shaved and for a change he was in beige dockers instead of the torn blue jeans he normally sported. He’d even chosen a crisp button down shirt. “You look nice.” She set the book down and propped herself higher.

  “Thanks. You know what they say. Fake it till you make it.” He stepped over and planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’m off now to let you get some sleep. And don’t worry about me. I’ll take it easy but the important thing is to keep moving. I’m going to beat this thing, Amanda.”

  She nodded and squeezed his hand. “I know you will. Wake me at four so I can see you guys for a while before I go to work, okay?” She settled back in the bed watching him as he closed the blinds to dim the room. This new therapy program had improved Will’s outlook and at least had him moving, unlike over medicating and laying around the house all day. And it would provide contact with people to get him out of himself.

  She closed her eyes when the bedroom door closed. She’d better get some rest. It was hard enough getting through a night shift but doing it with Linda was a total drag. The one saving grace was the quiet. That is, if the new patient Carmel got settled in. God help the poor woman if she acted up when Linda was on night duty. She’d know waking nightmares then, for sure. Linda’s bedside manner was more like a warden than a nurse sometimes; especially on the overnight shift.

  FOUR

  AMANDA WATCHED THE NURSES AND AIDES from the day shift leave the floor. She turned to her computer screen to review the notes they’d written about the patients that day. Sometimes when staff rotated off, the odd change in meds or behavior failed to make it into their shift change discussion. It was a routine procedure that she intended to prolong rather than engage in a forced congeniality with Linda.

  From the corner of her eye she could see the stout, fifty-year-old battle axe employing the same devotion to detail. It was probably the only thing the two of them had in common.

  Amanda sat there feeling the lack of chit chat; the silence between the two of them
pressing down like a dead weight. Before she could come up with something casual to say, Linda broke it with her nasal voice. “I see the new patient, Carmel Turner, is requesting that Jane be moved from the room. I haven’t met her yet but I’d say she has a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening.”

  Amanda hadn’t gotten that far in the report. Linda had settled in at the nurse’s station while she had been gabbing with Lilith Granger about her new grandchild. Well actually, Lilith had done most of the talking, even showing pictures of her first granddaughter.

  She scanned down to the entries on Carmel, commenting absently, “Carmel had a bad first night yesterday, with nightmares.” She read the other entry. Dr. Stone had been in and examined Carmel. ‘Vitals normal, increasing the Lorazepam dosage to ten mg’s PRN. Lapses into dementia periodic, which considering her age is to be expected.’

  Her eyes narrowed. No mention of psychiatric evaluation being recommended. Considering that the woman lived alone with no living relative or support, depression could be a factor in bringing on the dementia. True, she was in her seventies but isolation was often led to a deterioration in mental acuity.

  She looked over at Linda. “It’s probably better for Carmel’s sake to be in a double. It might help to keep her grounded and lucid. Especially if Jane is her roommate.”

  That was one good thing about Jane Drogan. She was a former high school teacher who called a spade a spade. She’d probably seen all the hi-jinks there was and could stop them with a word. But underneath the stern exterior Jane was a caring person. Just don’t wake her in the middle of the night.

  Linda rose and adjusted the waistline of her pants over her generous middle. “It’s time to round up the herd. I’ll do the recreation room if you do the sunroom. I’m sure the kitchen staff will be eager to get home after evening snacks are done.”

  Amanda decided to ignore Linda’s remark, likening the patients to a ‘herd’. Linda had worked there for so long that she didn’t even see that comparing the elderly to docile cattle was demeaning. With any luck she’d make a slip like that in the interview and it would be a strike against her. At least it would be if Dr. Stone wasn’t on the hiring board. The man was so dull, he’d never pick up on it.

  She clicked the mouse locking the computer and stood up. “What do you think of Dr. Stone? From what I hear he’s here more than his predecessor ever was. That guy did this on the side with his own practice taking precedence. Stone’s here practically full-time.”

  “If the new owners are happy, then does it matter what we think?”

  ‘Gotcha’ Amanda thought. She stared at the older woman. “It matters a lot what we think, Linda. I’m a nurse—”

  “As am I, dear.”

  Amanda bridled internally. She hated Linda using that term ‘dear’. It was so condescending! She held up her hand like a traffic cop as she replied. “Yes you are. But you don’t find it curious about Dr. Stone’s hours? How is he able to support himself on what they pay him here?”

  Linda smiled and shook her head slowly with a patronizing smile. “I don’t have the slightest idea what the owners are paying Dr. Stone; it’s none of my business, hon.” She darted a finger at Amanda. “Nor is it yours.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Linda cut her off with a sharp wave of her hand. “But nothing, dear.” She pointed her thumb behind her down the corridor. “Look at the results he’s had with the zombies in Ward Two! All the clients there—and we call them ‘clients’, not ‘patients’ Amanda— went from being either bedridden or zonked out in chairs all day to being completely ambulatory since Dr. Stone started attending them.” She folded her arms and peered down her nose at Amanda. “That’s something positive. Or didn’t you notice?”

  Amanda felt her face grow warm and she looked away.

  Before she could formulate a reply, Linda delivered the coup de grace. “Now if you don’t mind, could you stop gossiping about other staff members and do your job?”

  Amanda’s head spun back to see Linda heading down the hall. There was even a saunter in the sway of her haunches, relishing her snide comment. The bitch. Amanda’s eyes narrowed as she continued going into the part of the wing where the sunroom was housed.

  The last glimmer of a blood red sunset on the horizon flowed through a wall of windows. A group of women sat around a table playing bridge while Jane Drogan and Myrtle Braden, the two former teachers, played scrabble at the other end of the room. Three other residents sat alone reading. They had unplugged from the mindless drivel of sitcoms where the TV in the recreation room dominated. They also tended to retire a bit later. She’d come back for them in another hour or so.

  She smiled as she approached the bridge players. “Five minute warning, ladies. It’s eight forty-five.” When Mable, an elderly woman with an oxygen tube taped under her nose peered up at her, Amanda added, “I’ll give you a hand getting back to your room, Mable.”

  Giving another patient’s shoulder a little squeeze, she chirped, “Tally up ladies. Tomorrow’s another day for your game.” When the two women on the winning team groaned, she shrugged and continued to over to where the scrabble board was set up. “Who’s ahead here?”

  Jane looked up before setting four tiles on the board, making the word ‘quilt’ using a stray ‘t’ opening. “That’s thirty-four points right there. I’d say I just won.”

  “For this time, Jane.” Myrtle finished tallying up the score and tossed her remaining tile in the box. “I’ll clean your clock tomorrow night.” She rose to her feet, and with a disgruntled huff, she walked away.

  Amanda winked at Jane and whispered, “Sore loser, huh?”

  Jane’s eyebrows bobbed high, “And she tries to cheat!” She tapped the dictionary that sat on the table. “This baby keeps her honest though.” The smile dropped from her face when she looked up at Amanda, “Is that new one going to keep me awake all night again? I swear if she starts screaming, I’ll put a pillow over her face.”

  “Don’t do that, Jane. I’d miss you when they drag you off to prison.” She grinned. If Jane only knew. Carmel had her own set of complaints about Jane’s snoring.

  She looked over at the women reading but none of them made any sign that they were ready to go. That was normal for them. They’d probably been night owls all their lives, so aside from being in the nursing home, their patterns of sleep hadn’t changed.

  Mable sat in her wheelchair while the other three women made their way to the door. Amanda stepped in behind her and toed the brake off, making sure that the oxygen tank was secure in place before pushing the handles. “You really like bridge, Mable. I never learned the game. Maybe one day you’ll teach me.”

  “I’d like that.” The words wheezed out from the old woman’s throat. She turned her head to flash a grin up at Amanda.

  Back at the nurses’ station the call signal for room eleven was blinking steadily. There was no sign of Linda anywhere near, so Amanda walked down to check what the problem was. She wasn’t even halfway down the corridor when the heated argument from room eleven blared into her ears.

  “You’re not staying here in my room!” Carmel snarled.

  “It’s not your room! I was here first! If anyone should leave, it should be you!”

  Uh oh. That was Jane. Her booming bellow overwhelmed Carmel’s voice by a mile.

  Amanda rushed in, closing the door behind her. “Enough, both of you!” Carmel sat on the edge of the bed, her mouth a tight line while she glared at Amanda and Jane. Jane never wavered, hands on sturdy hips defying Carmel with an icy stare.

  Carmel turned from Jane, stretching a bony hand out to Amanda. Her eyes welled with tears while her shoulders drooped. “Please. Dr. Stone told me I would have a room of my own. I can’t sleep with that cow snoring and smacking her lips continually. I had a horrible night last night.”

  “Cow! Who are you calling cow?”

  Carmel shot a withering look at Jane, “Okay, bovine if you’d prefer.”

 
Amanda felt like a referee when she stepped between them. “Stop. There’ll be no name calling anymore. We treat each other with respect here.” She looked at Carmel, “There was no note in the chart to change your room.” Not that it was ever going to happen, anyway. The only available bed was the one closest to the nursing station reserved for patients who required more intensive medical care.

  “Great.” Jane flopped down on her bed, turning her back to them.

  Carmel sniffed, wiping the tear from her cheek. “There must be some mistake. I can’t stay here anymore. Where are my clothes?”

  Amanda sunk down next to the old woman. “Give it another night, Carmel. If you have trouble sleeping, I can get you some earplugs.” She tapped Carmel’s hand, “Do you normally have a snack or drink before bed? I’ll see what we can get you to make this more pleasant. But you have to stay here. Sorry.”

  “I don’t want any of your snacks. I want to go home.” Her eyes narrowed and she folded her hands together on her lap, in a classic pout.

  Amanda rose, “I’ll see that you get some warmed milk when food services comes around. That might help you sleep.” She looked down at the old woman who now wrung her hands, staring hard at her lap. The woman’s defeat touched a nerve. “I’m here to help you, Carmel. I’m a nurse, not a jailor.” When she got no response she tried another tack. “Do you have any hobbies? Do you knit or read, do crosswords? Personally, I like to sketch. Whatever you want. I can help with whatever interests you.”

  Carmel looked up and her eyes bored into Amanda’s while a small smile twitched her lips. Finally, she spoke. Her eyes drilled into Amanda while with deliberate precision she spoke, “No. Whatever I need or would like is beyond you.”

  Amanda’s head twitched back like she’d just been slapped. ‘Beyond you’. Memories of her mother using that same term, in the identical tone of voice flooded over her. ‘Don’t try to be a pretty girl, Amanda; that’s beyond you.’ She felt her heart begin to beat faster as she watched the woman’s eyes and heard her mother’s words echo in her mind. ‘Stop studying so much; math is beyond you.’