Against Hospital Rules

The hospital was abuzz with the usual noise: monitors beeping when patients lost connection with the IV, snores from Mr. Douglas in room 335, and the ornery elder Mrs. Henson shouting obscenities down the hall.

Right at this moment, she was shouting, “Someone better come in and help me! I can’t pee with this catheter in!”

Haileigh stifled a giggle.

Her friend Michelle sighed, clearly annoyed. She was Mrs. Henson’s nurse for the morning. Michelle began to walk into the room, squared her shoulders, and entered.

“Mrs. Henson, the catheter is for you to pee in.”

“No! It’s here to make my coochie hurt!” Mrs. Henson replied, a I-know-what-I’m-talking-about-you-dumb-bimbo voice.

“No it’s not, Mrs. Henson. You are supposed to pee and it will go into that bag.”

“You lying blonde bitch!”

Haileigh felt sorry for her friend, but couldn’t help but laugh.

As she walked by, she said, “Sorry, Chelle.”

“Oh, whatever!” Michelle hissed as she wrestled with Mrs. Henson, who at the moment was trying to rip the catheter out of her “coochie”. If she succeeded, that would HURT in the morning.

Her supervisor walked by her, his head down, and he muttered, “Room 218.”

“Got it!” she replied, hurrying down the hall.

211, 212, 213.…

218!

It was private room, so she wouldn’t have to check on more than one patient.

“Good morning, sir.” A really cute “sir” at that.

He was about mid-20s, jet black hair with deep blue eyes. Body of a Greek god.

Haileigh sighed. SO as in So Obviously out of her league. Doesn’t hurt to look, does it?

“Good morning’ to you, too, gorgeous.”

Haileigh’s eyes shot up, searching his in question.

He flashed an easy grin at her.

Haileigh finally cleared her throat, and got to work.

She grabbed the thermometer out of pocket, saying, “Open up.”

“I think that’s my line.” He whispered, his voice husky.

“Sir, try to behave.” Haileigh mumbled with her nurse voice even while her face flamed.

“Nobody ever got anywhere by being good, but fine.” He replied, his voice reluctant in tone, but a smile trimmed the edge of it.

She placed the thermometer in his mouth, and turned to check his weight.

She had just hit the button and reached in her pocket for a pen when she felt something on her butt.

Stroking. Lovingly.

What the crap!

She turned quickly, slapping his hand away.

“Keep your hand to yourself!” she snapped.

“Fine. Mood-killer.” Then his hand went to the bottom half of his gown…

She didn’t mean like that!