Chapter 148
A soft, muffled cough came from one of the nurses. It sounded suspiciously like a covered laugh. My cheeks burned as if slapped. The humiliation was a physical thing, a wave of heat that washed over me, leaving me trembling and exposed.
"I asked for a simple set of tasks," Monica continued, her hands going back to her hips. "A fresh IV line. Ice chips. A blood pressure check. Basic nursing. Not brain surgery." She let out a short, humorless laugh. "But apparently, that's too much to ask. Do you think your personal woes are more important than a government official's care? Do you think any of us," she gestured broadly, "don't have problems waiting at home?"
Each word was a carefully aimed dart, landing in the most tender parts of my psyche. She was publicly diagnosing me as self-absorbed, incompetent, and unprofessional, using my obvious distress as the weapon.
