by J. J. Murray
“Okay.”
Trina opened the door and walked toward a single white plastic chair in front of a long metal table, three ancient and balding white doctors sitting at attention on either side of Nurse Sprouse.
Oh, this is fair. There’s not a single person of color in here, ES included, and not a single real nurse. Trina sat. Let’s get this over with. I have to go see my new house at eleven.
“Before we begin, Miss Woods, do you have anything to say?” Nurse Sprouse asked.
Oh now it’s “Miss” Woods. The truth shall set me free? I doubt it, but here goes. “I was not sick when I said I was, and I am sorry.” I’ve admitted my faults, now give me the punishment so I can get out of here and get down to Franklin Street.
“Anything else, Miss Woods?” Nurse Sprouse asked.
“No.”
“No explanation for why you lied to me,” Nurse Sprouse said.
I knew she couldn’t let me get away that easily. “I don’t owe you that explanation. You wouldn’t understand it anyway. Are we done here? Pass your verdict, give me your judgment, and send me on my way.”
“What wouldn’t I understand, Miss Woods?” Nurse Sprouse asked.
Should I even care? I should. I have a lot of other nurses rooting for me. “You wouldn’t understand love, Miss Sprouse.”
“Does this mean you were absent because you were lovesick?” Nurse Sprouse cackled to the doctors around her.
The doctors didn’t crack any smiles.
Are the doctors even alive? We may need a crash cart in here. “I wasn’t lovesick, Miss Sprouse. Not at the time. Love came a few days later.”
“You’re not making sense, Miss Woods,” Nurse Sprouse said. “As usual.”
“To you,” Trina said, looking at the doctors. “I don’t know the rest of you, so I can’t say you don’t understand. I do know, however, that Miss Sprouse does not know what love is. She doesn’t have a single clue.” Trina leaned forward in her seat. “You see, gentlemen, it takes love to do this job.”
“You obviously didn’t love your job enough to follow all the rules and regulations,” Nurse Sprouse said. “You obviously didn’t love this job enough to tell your supervisor the truth. You obviously didn’t love this job—”
“I already admitted I lied,” Trina interrupted. “I will accept any punishment this board gives me. But I will not take any more punishment from you today, Miss Sprouse. I get enough of that on a daily basis.” And so do the women who sneaked off to wish me well this morning. I think I owe them a fight.
“I do not punish you, Miss Woods,” Nurse Sprouse said. “And I resent you saying that.”
“And I resent you, Miss Sprouse.” Trina smiled. “By the way, how many HIPAA laws did you break in ‘leaking’ the story to the press?”
Nurse Sprouse looked away. “I have no idea how the Chronicle got the story.”
Who’s lying now? Should I continue this line of questioning? No. Let’s get back to love so we can confuse ES some more. “Gentlemen, I love this job. I love coming to work. I love helping patients. I loved a man enough to work double-shifts here to pay for his medical school. I still work two hours a night in the ER when I could be home resting my aching feet. I love working here at Saint Francis.”
“All that is immaterial to these proceedings,” Nurse Sprouse said. “Is the board ready to discuss—”
“I’m not through, Miss Sprouse,” Trina interrupted.
“I asked earlier if you had anything more to say, and you said no.”
I thought I didn’t. If I’m going to get in trouble, I have to get in trouble on my own terms. “I had nothing more to say about what I did. I do have more to say about what I do.” She scanned the doctors’ expressionless faces. “Miss Sprouse has assigned me and many of my fellow dark-skinned nurses—Indian, Pakistani, Indonesian, Filipino, and of course, African and African American—the worst possible jobs at this hospital ever since she became nursing supervisor three years ago.”
“I most certainly have not!” Nurse Sprouse squawked. “There is absolutely no truth to what she is saying!”
Ooh, now she has some color in that light-skinned face of hers. “While we ‘colored’ nurses empty bedpans, colostomy bags, do transport, and assist patients in going to the bathroom, Miss Sprouse’s legion of ‘white’ nurses walk around with clipboards and pens and take extended coffee breaks and sit in the lounge for hours at a time gossiping and do everything they can to avoid actually doing any work.”
“These are all lies, gentlemen, I assure you,” Nurse Sprouse said. “These are lies from a liar.”
“If I could, I’d bring all the nurses into this room and I’d say: ‘Raise your hand if you’ve ever emptied one bedpan.’” Trina raised her eyebrows. “You would see a forest of dark hands go into the air. Walk around this hospital sometime. You will see the darker nurses much more often that you will see the lighter nurses. You will see the darker nurses actually working. They will not be looking busy—they are busy. They won’t be rushing around the hallways to avoid work—they will be rushing around to go to work. If it weren’t for us, this hospital would fall apart.”
Nurse Sprouse shook her head. “Miss Woods is completely incorrect and has no proof of these unseemly accusations. She’s just angry that she was passed over for the nursing supervisor position three years ago when I was hired.”
“I’m not angry about that at all,” Trina said. “If having your job would turn me into you, I’m glad I was passed over. I’d rather be of use to this hospital.”
“Are you saying that I’m unqualified for my position?” Nurse Sprouse asked.
“No,” Trina said. “I’m saying you’re useless. I’m saying you’re unqualified to be a nurse.”
“I’ll have you know—”
“Did you do a cursory exam on me when I told you I was sick?” Trina interrupted.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Nurse Sprouse asked.
I need to show the board how incompetent you are. “I know I lied about being sick,” Trina said, “but as a nurse, Miss Sprouse, why didn’t you do a quick exam on me?”
Two members of the board turned their heads toward Nurse Sprouse. The other four remained semicomatose.
“I took your word for it,” Nurse Sprouse said, “which you have just admitted were lies. I will no longer take your word for anything.”
Trina smiled. “What did you sign me up to do instead?”
“A refresher course on blood-borne pathogens,” Nurse Sprouse said.
Trina cocked her head and squinted. “How did you make that determination if you didn’t do a cursory exam?”
“Once again, I took your word for your illness,” Nurse Sprouse said. “You were in the bathroom. That says diarrhea.”
What an idiot! “And what dangerous blood-borne diseases are indicated by diarrhea, Nurse Sprouse?”
Nurse Sprouse closed her mouth.
Another doctor turned his head toward Nurse Sprouse.
“I’ll refresh your memory,” Trina said. “Only one blood-borne disease is indicated by diarrhea, and that is hemorrhagic fever, Nurse Sprouse. It’s not hepatitis B, C, or HIV. If you really thought I had a blood-borne disease and if you knew that only hemorrhagic fever was indicated by diarrhea, why did you let me go home without an exam?”
“Because . . . because I took your word as another nurse,” Nurse Sprouse said. “But that’s not all that this hearing is about. You have been derelict in your duty. You have been playing hooky from your job with your boyfriend the musician.”
Trina sighed and smiled. “That’s because I love him.”
“And it’s going to cost you today,” Nurse Sprouse said. “Is the board—”
“I have worked here for ten years,” Trina interrupted. “Until two weeks ago, I hadn’t missed a single day. That’s twenty-five hundred straight days without an absence of any kind. I have obviously kept myself healthy at a place where sick people come to get well, and
unlike Nurse Sprouse, I am around these sick people all day. I even come into physical contact with them. I actually touch them. So, on the basis of one extended visit to the bathroom, Nurse Sprouse, you assumed without examining me that I had some blood-borne sickness which could only be hemorrhagic fever.”
“You needed the refresher course on blood-borne pathogens anyway,” Nurse Sprouse said. “All nurses are required to take that course once a year.”
“I took it three months ago,” Trina said. “Has the world of blood-borne pathogens changed so drastically in the last ninety days to warrant an annual refresher course only three months later?”
Nurse Sprouse narrowed her eyes. “The field of medicine is constantly changing, Woods.”
Where’s the “Miss” now? “You aren’t changing, Nurse Sprouse. When’s the last time you even spoke to a patient?”
“I am the nursing supervisor,” Nurse Sprouse said. “I supervise nurses.”
“You’re still a nurse, aren’t you? You walk by patients in need every day. I’ve heard them call out to you, and you keep on trucking. You routinely walk by patients that you could help and assign us to—”
“Because that is my job,” Nurse Sprouse interrupted.
“It has made you heartless, Nurse Sprouse,” Trina said. “There’s no love in what you do. You’re supposed to be here for the patients first. You have forgotten that.”
“I think we’ve all had enough of your . . . assumptions and falsehoods,” Nurse Sprouse said. “The board will now vote—”
“One more thing, Miss Sprouse, and then I will be silent.” This is a hearing, and they will hear me even if they don’t listen to me. “I have a great deal of pride in what I do, and I follow every procedure to the nth degree. Look at my file. Until Miss Sprouse arrived three years ago, my file contained no write-ups. None. I’m sure you gentlemen have looked at my file, and I’m sure you’ve seen the petty, picky, and ultimately immaterial things Nurse Sprouse writes us up for. Dress-code violations. Poor penmanship. Using a check mark instead of an X on a form. These write-ups don’t reflect the dedication we have to and for our patients. These write-ups don’t reflect the love we have for this hospital. These write-ups don’t reflect our worth, our abilities, and our expertise. They don’t chronicle the times we stay long after our shift is through to sit with a patient who never gets anyone to visit during visiting hours. They don’t chronicle the stress we face when a patient we’ve been caring for suddenly takes a turn for the worse or dies. They don’t chronicle the number of times we bite our tongues when Miss Sprouse harangues us for a dress-code violation on days we’d rather not wear those depressing blue or gray scrubs because we feel the patients need to see something brighter to brighten their days. I know I shouldn’t have lied to my supervisor, and I’m sorry. But trust me on this. I am the only real nurse in this room. Suspending me for any length of time will be detrimental to the patients of this hospital.”
Nurse Sprouse rolled her eyes. “Are you through?”
“Yes.” Trina folded her hands and placed them in her lap.
“Is the board ready to vote?” Nurse Sprouse asked.
The doctors nodded.
Nurse Sprouse smiled. “You may wait outside until we have rendered judgment, Woods. We’ll call you back in when we’re ready.”
Trina stood, turned, and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. She walked down the long hallway to the vending area. No Tony. She backtracked to a nurse’s station and waited until a chatty young LPN named Cathy noticed her. “Have you seen a tall, Italian-looking man recently?”
“Tony Sant-something from Cobble Hill something, right?” Cathy said.
Oh, this new breed of airhead LPNs pisses me off. “Yes. Tony Santangelo.”
“He was a trip,” Cathy said with a laugh. “He asked to see who was in charge of the hospital. Can you believe it? As if Dr. Canby would see him.”
“What did you tell him?” Trina asked.
“I told him that Dr. Canby would just love to see him,” Cathy said.
And that’s where Tony is now. “What did he say to that?”
“He said, ‘Good,’” Cathy said. “He didn’t get my sarcasm.”
And he never will. “What did he say next?”
“He asked me to draw him a map to admin,” Cathy said.
“Did you draw him a map?” Trina asked.
“Yes,” Cathy said. “Why are you looking for him anyway? He was strange. I’ll bet he escaped from somewhere.”
Yes, he escaped from Brooklyn. Trina wanted to jump over the counter and strangle Cathy with her long blond ponytail. “Have you been living under a rock lately? That was Tony Santangelo from Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, New York, USA, also known as Art E., the world-famous songwriter and piano player.”
Cathy cracked her gum. “Okay. And?”
She has no clue. This wench probably thinks Katy Perry is a gifted musician. “How long ago did you give him the map?”
“About ten minutes ago,” Cathy said.
He’s probably already there now. He’ll find his way back. Tony never gets lost.
A doctor poked his head out of the conference-room door and motioned to Trina with a wrinkled hand.
“I have to go back in,” Trina said. “If Tony comes back, please tell him that Trina said to sit out here and wait, okay?”
“Okay,” Cathy said.
“Repeat back what I said, please,” Trina said.
“If Tony comes back, wait here because you said to,” Cathy said.
It will have to do. “Thank you so much for your help,” Trina said.
“Oh, you’re welcome,” Cathy said brightly.
Idiot.
Trina again sat in the chair. Look how smug ES looks. She is arrogance personified.
“Miss Katrina Woods,” Nurse Sprouse said, “it is this board’s determination that you be suspended for one week without pay.”
They’re not firing me, Trina thought. I suppose that’s a good thing. But wait. Nurse Sprouse is taking another breath. There’s more. . . .
“You will also be required to work any shift we deem necessary upon your return for a probationary period of three months, at which time—”
“This is complete and utter bullshit,” Trina interrupted. “A week’s lost pay for a first offense? Probation for three months after ten years of exemplary service?”
“Miss Woods!” Nurse Sprouse shouted. “If you continue in this manner, you will be terminated!”
Trina took a cleansing breath. “What was the vote?” she asked as she raked the doctors with her eyes.
“The board doesn’t have to—”
“This board is messing with my profession and my livelihood,” Trina interrupted. “I have a right to know. What was the vote?”
“The vote was unanimous,” Nurse Sprouse said.
“Cowards,” Trina said. “You all are cowards.”
“Now where was I?” Nurse Sprouse said. “Oh yes. A probationary period of three months, at which time you will sit before this board again for the board to determine if you should return to full duty or be immediately terminated.” Nurse Sprouse smiled. “I seriously doubt that calling these gentlemen cowards will help your cause.”
“You gentlemen do not have the best interests of this hospital in mind,” Trina said. “You are cowards, and you’re also fools. I’m sure Miss Sprouse bullied you into your vote. You don’t know it yet, but you are going to regret this decision.”
“Are you threatening me and the members of this board?” Nurse Sprouse asked.
“No,” Trina said. “I’m predicting the future of this hospital. I care. My heart is in my work. Nurse Sprouse doesn’t care. She has no heart. Soon patients will see this in the nurses at Saint Francis. She will rub off on them. Nurses are on the front lines. While doctors get a lot of the glory, nurses keep this place running. Nurses make patients happy. Nurses make this place profitable. You are cutting your own financial throat if yo
u allow people like Miss Sprouse to dictate your consciences.” She rubbed her eyes. “This is foolishness.”
“Do you accept this reprimand rendered by the board, Miss Woods?” Nurse Sprouse asked.
Hell no! “What if I don’t accept this reprimand?”
“Then you will be terminated immediately,” Nurse Sprouse said.
“But you want me around, don’t you, Miss Sprouse?” Trina asked. “It isn’t punishment unless other nurses can see me being punished. I can’t be an object lesson if I’m not here, can I?”
“I don’t care if you work here or not, Miss Woods. Do you accept—”
“Do you know what many of the nurses call you, Miss Sprouse?” Trina interrupted. “We call you ES, and it’s not because those are your initials. ES stands for ‘evil stepmother.’ And we call your two ugly stepdaughters ES Two. We’ve obviously given you an erroneous nickname because the evil stepmother in Cinderella was much nicer.”
Nurse Sprouse smiled. “I take it that you are rejecting this board’s recommendation.”
“I only reject you, Miss Sprouse, and everything you stand, oh, I mean, sit on your fat ass for!”
Nurse Sprouse stood, her body shaking and her face beet red. “That is gross insubordination, and you are hereby terminated, Woods!”
“What’s gross is your fat ass, Nurse Sprouse,” Trina said. “You know, if you actually did some physical labor here, you wouldn’t have so much cellulite back there.”
“Clean out your locker, turn in your ID, and vacate the premises at once!” Nurse Sprouse shouted. “You have one hour! This meeting of the disciplinary review board is now—”
The door to the conference room banged open, and Tony entered—followed by Dr. Morgan Canby, esteemed president of Saint Francis Memorial Hospital.
“Hi, Trina,” Tony said.
“Where have you been?” Trina asked. “I was worried about you.”
“I have been helping,” Tony said.
Dr. Canby stood in front of Nurse Sprouse. “How did the board vote?”
“It was unanimous for suspension and probation, but that is a moot point,” Nurse Sprouse said. “Miss Woods has been terminated for gross insubordination.”
