5 Work

For about a month, she would go to work happily and come back happily. For about a month, she was problem free. For about a month, she had nothing to worry about. For about a month, her mother was happy with her for being with Lorenzo. For about a month, she'd go on dates every week with Lorenzo. Despite the good feeling she had after the date, Diane's good mood did not last for long.

Part of Diane's job as a nurse is to comfort patients' parents or guardians. Sometimes, there are young adults getting surgery, life-saving surgery, and the parents are either sacred or panicking that something was going to go wrong and their child would get killed. Diane, along with other nurses, would sit with the parents and try to sooth them. Personally, Diane hated telling them lies, like "They'll be fine" and "There's nothing to worry about". There was no 100% chance that the patient would pull through. Some surgeries left the doctors coming out of the room grim-faced and saying, "They may not make it." It didn't feel right to Diane telling the parents otherwise. And the parents appreciated that she wasn't trying to sugar-coat anything.

On an August day, Diane went to work as usual. The surgery of Tim Carroll was being performed that day. And her mother was sitting on the bench outside the room, silent and still. She was wringing her hands and seemed on the verge of tears. She looked up when Diane approached her.

"Need a little help?" Diane asked softly.

"You can leave me alone. I don't want you nurses telling me some useless 'He'll be ok'. He's NOT going to be ok. And I know it. I don't need someone to lie to me and fake confidence."

"Well, it's actually our job to do that," Diane said with a faint smile. "But if you wish to talk things over with me, I'll be here to listen. I'm not going to sugar-coat anything. I don't like lying to you, because it gives people in your state false hope, and then, in the end, they don't pull through. It's not right to lie about a situation as serious as this, so I won't."

Diane turned around and started to walk down the hall. She understood what Hannah Carroll was going through. She'd experienced it herself. Sighing, Diane started towards the exit, having to return to the registration desk to find another patient to check up on.

"Wait."

Turning around, Diane asked, "Yes?"

"You promise you'll listen?" Hannah asked.

"Yes," Diane answered. "If you want to talk, follow me."

Hannah stood up and followed Diane into an empty conference room. They sat down opposite each other. The white walls and glass table made Diane feel as if she was interrogating Hannah. If only we had bedrooms or living rooms here. Then it would feel more cozy and less like a prison.

"What's your name?" Hannah Carroll asked.

"Nurse Diane," Diane responded.

"Why are you so different from the other nurses?" Hannah asked.

"Goodness, this is supposed to be about you, not me!" Diane exclaimed. "I don't know, really. I guess that it's more because I've experienced the panic and worry. My father was in the hospital and my mother and I were worried sick, and the nurses didn't help when they tried to assure us that my father was ok, that he was going to survive. It just made us feel more worried. And in the end, he didn't survive, he died. And to think the nurses were trying to fill us with false hope…" Diane said bitterly. "I resolved to not do that. I was not going to lie and make people feel even worse when they were prepared for better results."

Diane was brought back to the day her father was in the hospital. She remembered crying and screaming at other nurses the same thing. "It's not ok. I'm a nurse too. I know what happens and what doesn't. I know it's your job, but some people don't want the sense of security that proves to be fake in the end." Her mother was there with her. Both of them had been trying to comfort the other. Diane's father needed immediate attention, as he'd woken up in bed without being able to breathe. He was gasping for breath, and that was what had woken Christy up. They'd called the ambulance but it was too slow. Five minutes later, they were so afraid that they decided to drive to the hospital at 3 AM. Not the best idea but they were desperate to save Diane's father. In the end, he died and forced Diane and Christy into months of grief.

"Anyways," Diane said, trying to change the subject, "Do you want to talk about Tim?"

"No. I want to talk about my husband, Markus," Hannah said.

"Well, you know that this is for discussing your son Tim, right? This is for comforting you," Diane explained.

"Yes, but the reason I need you to save Tim is because of Markus," Hannah answered. "Plus, you seem like a therapist, and I definitely need a session to just talk to someone who can listen and understand."

"Markus. Ok. Tell me his story," Diane said.

"Markus was my husband. We loved each other, but the war ten years ago, the Copper War, took him. It took his life. And took part of my soul. Markus is gone, and Tim is my only child. If-" Hannah broke off. She was sobbing, weeping. Forcing herself to go on, Hannah continued, "If he dies, I'll be all alone. I don't have any grandchildren. My husband died, Tim dies…"

"Don't speak as if he died already. He didn't yet," Diane insisted. "Oh, god. I'm sounding like the other nurses, aren't I?"

Hannah nodded weakly. "Yes, but you're right. Tim didn't die yet. But he might."

"Yes. He might. But remember that he didn't yet. Have faith in his ability to survive. He may actually pull through," Diane said.

"But Markus. Markus. He left me. Why did the war take him? Why did the military ask for his service? Why? He went to fight in the war. He promised me he'd come back. He'd pull through. He'd survive. But he never came back. He didn't come back to our home. I-I was counting on him to come back. I put my trust in him." Hannah was pounding on the table. She had tears streaming down her face.

Diane didn't know how to comfort a grieving woman. Although she'd grieved for a dead loved one before, she'd mostly avoided her mother because she didn't know how to deal with her mourning mother. And now, it was her job to console Hannah. Diane just awkwardly sat there. Then, she stood up and slid into the seat to the right of Hannah. Hannah stiffened, but then relaxed, and laid her head on Diane's shoulder. Slowly, Diane raised a hand and rested it on Hannah's left shoulder. They sat there, the only sound coming from Hannah. The whimpers Hannah made as she wept echoed throughout the empty room. The door opened. A head poked through the crack.

"Hannah? Diane? Are you two in here?"

"Yes," Diane called back.

Hannah sat up straight, and dragged her sleeve over her eyes, wiping her tears away. She leaned over the table, eager to hear the news about her son.

"How's Tim doing?" Hannah asked.

The nurse shook her head grimly. "He has a chance of surviving, but it's very slim. If you want, you can visit him right now."

Hannah stood up. She headed towards the door, following the nurse to Tim's room. Before exiting the room, she turned around and looked at Diane. "Thank you. Thank you for helping me. It was really nice to talk to someone who is willing to listen," Hannah said gently. Then she left.

Diane stood up to leave the room but fell right into the seat again. Her legs had failed her. They were shaking really badly. They couldn't support her weight. She felt sweat running down her face. No, tears. They're tears. She was crying. Diane raised a trembling hand to her face, to wipe them away, but they kept on coming. Tears flowed down her face. They dripped onto her jeans. She rested her head on the back of the chair. Diane closed her eyes for a second. And she was pulled into a dream.