Member-only story
Stereotypes
The Night D Took Care of Me
Don’t judge a book by its cover
It was in the middle of the night. I had just had emergency gallbladder surgery. I was still in the hospital and my husband had already gone home. I was alone, in pain, and scared. The room was dark. I was hooked up to IVs and had to pee. I wanted to go home.
While I was moaning and groaning, fighting off pain and hoping not to wet the bed I was startled by a stranger whose face was inches from mine.
He was a young dark-skinned man with dreadlocks to his shoulders. He was dressed casually in black sweats and a grey sweatshirt.
“Get out of my room,” I yelled at this intruder.
I didn’t expect anyone to be in my room in the middle of the night except maybe a nurse.
You know, the nurse! The middle-aged woman in an all-white uniform with a nurse's cap pinned to her head. You remember the one, white stockings, white sturdy shoes holding a clipboard, with a sweet smile on her face.
Wait a minute, I think the pain meds are messing with my head. Nurses haven’t looked like that since the late 1980’s.
So who in the hell is this young man in my room? How did he get in? Is he going to pull my IV out and steal from me? Put a pillow over my face and kill me? I was in full panic mode and writing a Stephen King thriller in my mind when the young man spoke.
In a very gentle, calm voice he whispered “You’re ok hon, I’ll take good care of you, what do you need?” while patting my hand reassuringly.
It was the sweetest voice I think I ever heard. He said his name was Darius, but everyone just called him D. He explained that he was the nurse's aide working the night shift.
I clung to D like he was my mother reincarnated.
He was young enough to be my grandson, but an old soul.
His compassion brought me to tears as I lamented that I was in pain, had to use the restroom, and hadn't had anything to eat or drink in two days.
He witnessed a pathetic pity party by an old lady who looked like hell, yet he treated me like a queen.
