Conceited [H.S.]

FOUR

ANDREA WILSON

"Excuse me?!" I take a deep breath and remind myself that this man is a patient. No matter how rude he is, patient care is critical. "Sir, please sit back so I can start your IV."

"Aren't you gonna take me to dinner first before you start sticking needles inside my body?" He has a smirk on his face, and his words are slurred.

Much to my luck, he sits back on the bed as I put on my gloves. I roll up his sleeve and ignore his giggling as I do so. Then, I hang up the banana bag, making sure it isn't leaking any fluid into the line just yet. I tie the tourniquet around his arm and try to find a vein.

"So what time do you get off, love?" He asks me.

I shake my head as I quickly insert the needle into his vein. He flinches a little but tries to cover it with a cough, which makes me stifle a laugh.

Not so tough, are you?

"Are you gonna answer my question?" he asks as I tape down the tube to ensure it stays in his arm before removing the needle.

I sigh while releasing the IV fluid into his arm and toss the needle into the wastebin, my gloves following just seconds after.

"Sir, when I get off is none of your business. You'll have to stay here for a few hours until this bag is completely in your system, and then you can leave once you're sober." I began walking away from his bed to ensure all the patients were being helped and treated.

"I'll give you ten grand if you tell me when you get off." 

My heart stops. What? 

I turn around to look at him with my eyebrows scrunched and my mouth slightly open.

"Excuse me?" I say started to get pissed off and annoyed with this patient.

"You heard me, love," he smirks at me as the words slip from his mouth.

I roll my eyes and turn around, continuing with what I was initially going to do. I pull the curtain back, and the security guard quickly closes it once I'm out. The nerve of some people. Even if they're drunk, you'd think giving some respect would still be on their mind.

I sit down at the nurse's station and start looking over all the patients in the ER, and I see that none of them are ready to be discharged yet. I start doing some paperwork that I need to catch up on.

"Excuse me, miss?" I look up and see one of the security guards. What now?

"Yes?" I ask him in the most polite voice that I can muster. It's way too early for me to have to be this nice, and I still have a couple of hours left on my shift. And guess who my last patient will be? Mr. Drunk in bed twelve.

"Mr. Styles is asking for you." He tells me with a hushed voice.

"Sir, is he in any pain?" I ask him, not wanting to deal with this patient any longer.

"No, ma'am, but he insists." He gives me a pleading look. This man must be used to getting what he wants when he wants it.

"Sir, with all due respect, if he isn't in pain or in any danger, I can't just hang out with him. Which is what he wants. I'm working and have patients to check on and paperwork to finish." I tell him, trying to keep my polite manner, but it's fading very quickly.

"Ma'am, he will keep asking," he pushes.

"He offered me ten thousand dollars to tell him when I get off. I see that as insanely inappropriate. I'll have another nurse assigned to him if you'd like. One who can stay with him. I would need your permission first because he is a VIP patient." I offer to hope that would help in the slightest bit.