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…
