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I return my attention to my patient. ‘Let’s see how hot you are today, Mable,’ I say cheekily, spiking a wicked cackle from the dear old lady.
‘Flaming,’ she says on a laugh. ‘Hey, when are you going to Dallas?’
‘I’m going to Vegas, and I leave on Saturday.’
‘Oohhh, I bet you’ll be getting yourself some American scrumpet.’
I laugh as I note her temperature and check her charts. ‘How’s your pain, Mable? On a scale of one to ten.’
‘Five,’ she answers quickly, making me smile. Always a five. The poor woman took a tumble and broke her hip, and not once has she complained about it. She’s as sharp as a pin at the ripe old age of ninety-two. ‘American men,’ she muses, looking off into the distance, a fond smile on her face. ‘I remember the excitement when a ship full of American sailors docked during the war. Me and the girls put extra lipstick on that night before we danced down to the pub.’
‘You floozy,’ I tease, wagging a finger at her. ‘And was the extra lippy worth it?’ I dip to release her full catheter bag.
She chucks me a devilish smirk. ‘I was quite a catch, you know. When I was a girl and my bosoms weren’t tickling my knees.’ She gives the catheter bag in my hand a quick look of disdain, and I feel immediately guilty for reminding her that she’s no longer a young woman. Now she’s an old lady with memories of a time gone by. ‘But then I met my Ronald. Ooh, that man did things to me that no other man ever had.’
‘Like what?’ I ask, fascinated by the twinkle in her eye and the sudden rouge of her cheeks.
‘Like give me butterflies in my tummy and too many heart-stopping moments for me to remember.’ She sighs, sinking into her pillow. ‘He looked at me like a man should look at a woman.’
‘How’s that?’ I smile as I straighten her sheets with my spare hand.
‘Like he was struggling to keep his hands off me. Like he wanted to ravish me from top to toe.’ She pats my hand with a chuckle. ‘One day, my love. You’ll meet him one day.’
I frown. ‘Who, Ronald?’
She laughs loudly, wincing a teeny bit from her sudden movement, though she doesn’t yelp or curse. Just settles back down without a fuss. ‘No, silly girl. Ronald went to play in God’s green garden seven years ago. I mean your life changer.’
‘My life changer?’
‘The man who will flip your world up on its head and you won’t care one iota.’ She laughs. ‘Just you wait. A pretty thing like you won’t be on the shelf for long.’
‘Who said I’m on the shelf?’ I ask, maybe a little delayed, but still. I’ve had interest, just no time or desire. And no world flipping, as she calls it.
‘Oh, my love.’ She looks embarrassed for a moment. ‘Forgive me, but if there’s a long-term man in your life, then I’m afraid you might be wasting your time on him. There’s no twinkle in your eye.’ She pats my cheek.
‘There is no long-term man,’ I admit. ‘No man, in fact.’
‘So you are on the shelf.’
‘You make it sound like I’m there to be taken by whoever comes along and likes the look of me.’
‘That’s the long and short of it,’ Mable says frankly with a shrug. ‘If a man wants you badly enough, he’ll take you.’
‘What if I don’t want to be taken by him?’
She smiles, like she’s privy to something that I’m not. ‘I think Dot needs some help.’ She nods across the way, and I see Dot struggling to sit up in her bed, grabbing the table to help, but it rolls away.
‘Wait there, Dot,’ I call, gathering up my things. ‘You’re not a gymnast. See you later, Mable.’ I head across the bay.
‘I need a piss,’ Dot snaps curtly.
‘Then I’ll have someone bring you the commode, okay?’
‘Make it quick.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ I quip under my breath, getting her comfy before making my way to the nurses’ station. I grab a health-care assistant on my way and ask her nicely to help Dot and empty Mable’s bag of pee, before racing through the rest of my section, checking everyone’s obs before I hand over.
I feel utterly wiped out by the time I’m done. After giving the next duty nurse the rundown, I grab my coat and swing it over my shoulders before scooping up my bag and waving my goodbyes.
As I pass Mable’s bed, she wolf-whistles, making me grin and twirl midstride. ‘Why, thank you.’ I laugh, spotting one of my patients struggling to sit up in bed. ‘Hey, Deirdre, what are you up to?’ I hurry over to her.
‘My damn back is aching. It’s these pillows. They’re too soft.’
‘Then let me fix that for you.’ I spend a few moments plumping her pillows and wedging a rolled-up blanket behind them to make her more comfortable. ‘Try that,’ I say, easing her back down to the bed. ‘Better?’
