After I had briefly woke up from my sleep I looked up to notice that the tall thin nurse with the tattooed arms full of skulls was still there. He did not say anything he just looked at me yet I was too tired to ask questions or engage an any conversation. One thing is for sure although my mind was going a thousand miles a minute trying to recover I still thought to myself. Was this normal behavior?
When morning hit I woke up and found my roommate looking out of the window. She realized that I was up and thought to give me a bit of advice. “It’s not so bad being diabetic, because you can still eat what you want. You just have to know how to do it.”
Okay so let me get this straight I am in the hospital because I am diabetic. During the night shift I get watched by the nurse who seems to be a bit creepy. During the day my roommate decides to tell me how I can get around having to change my eating habits. This visit is starting out great right no its not.
A day or two had passed and I was still unable to eat, yet the crunched ice became my very best friend. Nurses came and went throughout the day and night, but I tried to brace myself and let them do what they had to do. This thought only lasted but so long, because in came a tall husky man who was breathing very heavy and sweating everywhere trying to take my blood. Vile after Vile and poke after poke still he got nothing. He leaned over and that is when he really began dripping all over the place and and breathing even harder. At some point I got tired of being poked and having nothing happen so I remember that I kinda yelled at him and told him to get out.
That night mystery nurse came walking in with a very stern look on his face. For some strange reason I was a bit scared but I kept my mouth shut. He began to tell me about how he had heard that I gave a hard time and refused to allow them to draw blood. No one told him that I was poked so many times, and even suffered a huge bruise on my arm without getting anything.
It must have been the worse night ever because I listened to this nurse as he told me stories of a very known motorcycle gang he hangs out with. It seemed as though this story went on and on with him detailing of them riding into the night and meeting up at secret bars. First of all I am African American and secondly it really did not seem as though this motorcycle gang was very friendly especially towards my kind.
Was this an act of intimidation, was this nurse secretly sending me a message, or was my mind just overreacting and he was really doing his job the best way he could……..