August 14, 2024
Yesterday, I called in sick. I said it was back pain. The truth is, I couldn't bring myself to go in. Not after the blow-up with Natalie. It was rough. She brought up every mistake I've made lately. Three medication errors this month, and she had something to say about each one. The looks from the PSWs didn't help either. The whispers. The side glances. I hit my limit and walked out.
I know I'm responsible, but I can't explain how things got this bad. I've been a nurse for nine years. This was never an issue before. Not until I found out my husband was cheating on me. Well, ex-husband. I'm still getting used to saying that. Ever since, it's been a slow decline. Small mistakes turned into bigger ones. I keep wondering if it's burnout or if I'm genuinely falling apart. The truth is, I don't even know anymore.
Natalie doesn't seem to understand. We used to be close. We always had each other's backs. Then one day, everything changed. She accused me of gossiping to Renee, one of the residents' wives. Said I told her Natalie had stolen her best friend's boyfriend because he was good-looking. And yes, she did. But if it's that embarrassing, why do it at all?
Still, that's beside the point. The point is, I never said anything to Renee. Natalie knows how Renee twists stories. So why would she believe I'd say something like that?
After that, Renee's attitude toward Natalie completely shifted. She went from being warm and friendly to cold and dismissive. I don't understand why she took it so personally. I always defended Natalie whenever Renee had anything negative to say. But Natalie wouldn't believe it. She kept repeating the same question. "How else would Renee know about me and Mason? No one else knew but you."
I told her I didn't say anything. Maybe someone else let it slip. It wasn't the secret Natalie made it out to be. People had already started whispering. Still, Natalie was convinced I was the only one who could have told her. So I asked Renee. Suddenly, she couldn't remember where she'd heard it. I spoke to others I trusted, but I got nowhere. Eventually, I stopped trying. We're not teenagers anymore. This kind of drama shouldn't have spiralled so far.
But it did.
Renee made sure everyone, staff, residents, and even families, knew Natalie's personal business. I can only imagine how exposed she felt. But it wasn't me who spread the news. That's the truth.
Natalie doesn't see it that way. Now she seems determined to make work unbearable for me. As if I don't have enough going on already.
When I saw Silver Ray's number come up on my phone yesterday, I ignored it. I knew it was Gerald Anderson, our director of care. Probably another complaint from Natalie. I expected him to confront me this morning with another warning, but nothing happened. That didn't mean I was off the hook. It only meant the storm was coming later.
At 10.30, I'm sitting at the nursing station, catching up on charting, when I see Gerald walking toward me. His face is swollen, like he's been stung by a bee, and my stomach tightens.
"Got a minute?" he asks. His tone is cold, no greeting, no small talk. After seventeen years, it feels like I'm already a stranger here.
I nod, my hands starting to shake. I try to keep my expression calm. "Yeah, sure."
"I need to talk to you."
"Okay..." I stretch a little, trying to keep things light. I already have a pretty good idea what he's going to say, but I ask anyway. "What's it about?"
Gerald hesitates. His eyes scan the room before locking back on me. "Let's go to the office," he says. At least he has the decency not to address it in front of the others.
I get up and follow him down the hallway. My steps feel heavy.
The door shuts behind us. He sits, but doesn't ask me to do the same. That tells me enough. Trouble is coming. The silence hangs in the air until I clear my throat. "What's this about, Gerald?" I ask, steeling myself.
"Do you have anything to tell me about the missing narcotics for Owen?" His voice is sharp. Accusatory.
I shrug, trying to stay calm. "It must be a medication error. These things happen."
"Errors do happen," he says, eyes narrowing. His lips pull into a tight smile. "But not this often."
I feel the tension building in my chest. "I know. There've been three errors this month. But Gerald, I've been here for years. This has never happened before."
He smirks. I feel my nerves jump. "Three?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "That's only the medication errors, ma'am." The sarcasm cuts through the air. I feel my anger bubbling up, but I know I'm in no position to defend myself. I lower my head, standing still, listening. "There are other concerns. You've been forgetting to sign the narcotic sheet. Leaving tasks for the night nurse. Entering orders incorrectly. And that's not all."
I blink, trying to hold back tears. "I don't know what to say," I whisper. "This isn't who I am. I've got a lot going on right now. I'm trying my best."
"I know you're going through something," he says, but there's no warmth in his voice. No real understanding. If he truly knew, he wouldn't be looking at me like this. He wouldn't talk like that either. I give a bitter smile as he continues, "But that doesn't excuse what's happening. We've had complaints before. I've warned you about the errors. I even suggested time off, but you refused. This is your final warning. If it happens again, we'll have to move forward with disciplinary action."
His words land hard. I leave his office, barely holding it together. Inside, I'm boiling. Natalie is behind this, I'm sure of it. She's pulling the strings, and it's working. But what does she want from me? It feels like she's trying to back me into a corner, hoping I'll break completely. Hoping I'll give up.
But I won't.
No matter how bad it gets, I'm not going to end my life. Someone else might have to take the fall, but it won't be me. My life isn't perfect, but I'm not ready to give up on it. I'm sorry, Natalie. You won't win this.
I keep telling myself that her petty games can't touch me. But there's one thought that won't go away. What if I'm forced to take leave? Or worse, lose my job? I can't afford either. The panic builds. I run to my car, collapse into the driver's seat, and stare at the steering wheel. My vision blurs as the tears fall fast and hot. I let them come. I don't care if anyone sees me.
Minutes pass before I pull myself together. I sit up, wipe my face, and take a steadying breath. I can't let this destroy me. My love life may be in ruins, but I won't let my career be the next casualty. I've worked too hard to get here. I started as a caregiver seventeen years ago. Eight years after that, I became an RPN. Eventually, I moved up to RN. None of it came easily. I gave everything to get here. I'm not letting anyone take it away from me.
Not now. Not ever.
I'll wait. Watch and wait. All I need is for her to slip up.
Just once.
And when it happens, I'll be ready.