I sit in the med room, eyes fixed on the clock as the second hand creeps forward, clicking softly with each tick. Natalie's running a bit late today, which isn't like her. She's usually here about ten minutes early. I recheck the time – five minutes to seven.
I unlock the med cart and open the narcotic box, preparing to count the medication as soon as she walks in. It's been a long day, and I haven't had my last break. I can't stay here any longer – I need to go.
At one minute to seven, Natalie walks in wearing a fake smile. "How was your day?" she asks, her voice oddly casual. She's not technically late, but it's late by her standards. Her friendly vibe feels like a subtle apology.
"It was busy," I sigh. She raises an eyebrow and looks at me, waiting for me to elaborate. "Same old," I continue. "Dr. Reid is on vacation, so no new orders. Owen had a fall this morning, no injuries. He's on a head injury routine. Nothing else major."
"You know, Jaime..." she says, giving a slight, derisive head nod as she meets my gaze. "Your story is full of contradictions – 'too busy' one minute and 'nothing happened' the next. How is that even possible?"
"You know, Natalie…," I counter, mimicking her nod. "Our shift isn't like nights. On top of the med pass, we've got a ton of dressings and assessments to do, not like sitting at the computer all night. I even had to change Janet's catheter. It takes forever to get things done with her, you know that."
She gives me a cold stare and starts counting, not saying another word. Everything goes smoothly until we get to the last medication on the routine order – Owen's hydromorphone 1 mg.
"Wait…" Natalie says, double-checking the medication card. I can hear the joy and satisfaction in her voice, and somehow, that feels like a warning. Confirming my fear, she adds, "There's one missing for tomorrow."
"What?" I ask, feeling a surge of anxiety. I quickly grab the card and check. She's right. The tab for tomorrow morning is missing. "Oh, no," I murmur.
"How many did you give him today?" she asks, her voice full of excitement. "Three instead of two?"
"No, only two. I gave him one in the morning and one in the evening," I insist, though I'm not entirely sure. Owen was in great pain after the fall, and I was distracted. Could I have given him an extra one by mistake? Even if I did, I wouldn't admit it. That's all Natalie needs to start another drama.
She smirks. "Where is it then? Did you serve yourself?".
Her words sting more than I expected, and I feel my face flush. "That's not funny," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. Part of me wants to snap at her for being rude, but I hold back, knowing the mistake is on my side. "Maybe I dropped it," I say, looking around, although I'm pretty sure the chances of finding it are slim.
I scan the area in a hurry, my hands shaking slightly as Natalie stands off to the side, arms folded and watching me. And, of course, the missing pill is nowhere to be found.
"That's a medication error," Natalie reminds me, her tone sharp.
I take a slow breath and admit, "Yes, I know. I'll deal with it."
"You always mess up, and I'm the one left cleaning up after you," she snaps. I notice two PSWs standing at the nursing station, listening in. Her voice gets louder as she realizes she's got audience. "How am I supposed to cover for you every single time?"
I force a nervous smile to hide my embarrassment. Not in the mood to argue, I reply, "I'll take care of it."
"Are you going to monitor him all night? Are you going to stay here for the whole shift?" she challenges, raising an eyebrow.
"For heaven's sake, Natalie, it's only a tablet of hydromorphone. He's not going to die," I protest weakly.
She stares at me with amusement, as though I've committed the most heinous crime on earth. "Really! You think this is a silly mistake?"
My patience wears thin, but there's no point in escalating this. The best thing is to avoid a fight. "I'm stepping outside for a minute," I say, trying to collect myself.
"Finish the count and do whatever you want. I have no time to wait for you." She drops the cards into the narcotics cart box and grabs another bundle.
When she finishes counting, I step into the hallway and out of the building into the cool night air. I take a long, steady breath, trying to shake off Natalie's biting remarks and condescending glare. The crisp wind and quiet night offer me a brief reprieve, but her face keeps coming back whenever I try to look ahead. Her constant sassiness has gone too far, and I know it's time I addressed it once and for all. I don't know how yet, but I'll find a way.
"Don't bring personal stuff into work. Keep home and work separate. Don't be like Jaime. Please keep reading and share your suggestions."