Page 14 of Don't Look Down

Skysthelimit: How’s your day been?

Skysthelimit: I took an extra shift at the hospital… Naturally it’s been shit. I’m taking a much-needed cookie break to drown my sorrows and get me through these next few hours.

Well, I guess that answers my earlier question about what he was up to all day. A double shift must be draining.

Skysthelimit: Tell me your day is going better than mine. If it isn’t, just lie to me a little.

Does he know I’m a liar? He can’t know. Shaking that impossibility off, I take a fortifying breath and continue reading.

Skysthelimit: Kidding!

Skysthelimit: But seriously, I hope it’s a good one.

The app shows he just sent the last message a minute or so ago. Fuck yes. He’s still active. My heart speeds back up a few beats, reverberating throughout my body.

Maybe I should get that checked out. That can’t be normal. Coach is going to be pissed if I’ve developed a heart condition.

It’s decided then. Rolling onto my side, I get comfortable with my phone to chat with Sky on his break. And hopefully I’ll figure out how to untangle myself from this mess I’ve made.

4

Skylar

Fucking hell, this shift is kicking my ass. I mean, I enjoy some rough ass play as much as the next guy, but this shit is absolutely brutal. Not enough lube at all.

Checking my watch, I groan in misery. I’m almost ten hours into a twelve-hour shift, and I can’t wait for it to be over. Glancing toward the sky, ha-ha, I mutter a little prayer that the next two hours pass quickly and uneventfully.

Who signed me up for this extra shift anyway?

Oh, right.

I did.

More work equals more money equals more travel for moi.

I make a mental note to check if it’s a full moon, or if last night was, because those shifts are always theworst. It’s like everything that can go wrong will go wrong, and it’s one of those nights tonight. Maybe mercury is in retrograde? It wouldn’t surprise me.

Luckily, I’ll be getting off soon, so if it is a full moon, I can hopefully miss the worst of it all before I come back in a few days to work my regular shifts.

Today’s shitshow began with my patient in room 423 ripping out his IV. Not once. Not twice. But three times.Three! We’re running out of insertion sites. If I have to puncture his vein one more time, I think I’ll actually cry.

Or scream.

It’s a toss-up. Realistically, I’d probably cry and scream at the same time.

Unfortunately for Mr. Vargas, he’s now restrained, but we had to do it for his safety. The infection running rampant in his kidneys has caused a change in his mental status. He doesn’t understand he’s in a hospital or that we’re only trying to help him. He wants to leave and is quite combative. While it breaks my heart, it’s in his best interests.

It also doesn’t hurt that he’s in the best possible place right now. Not to brag or anything, but I’m an employee at Palm County Hospital. It’s nationally ranked in providing top-tier critical and trauma care to patients. I’m proud to work here. My job as a critical care nurse is my calling in life. I love it more than I can express. But helping people is fucking hard. Rewarding. But hard.

It’s not just physically exhausting but, some days, I’m emotionally and mentally drained. Although I know I can’t divulge specific patient information to him due to HIPAA regulations, I’m hoping Landon’s online when I get home. A nice little venting sesh and some headshots on COD would go a long way toward relaxing me.

Tonight, I want to wind down a bit before I crash out. Whenever Landon and I manage to link up, he always asks me how my shifts went and, somehow, it always manages to defusemy tension. He calms me down. Which is magic, because I’m always full of energy and on the go. I need to be on the move.

Unless I’m sleeping.

The effect he has on me is weird, though. He’s calming, but makes me happy, too.

Is that weird? It seems a little weird.

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