Facing the Past: A Nurse’s Unexpected Encounter
I’ve been a nurse for six years now—long shifts, aching feet, and barely enough time to grab a bite—but despite the challenges, I love what I do. In the hospital, skill and dedication matter most; appearances and past experiences fade into the background when patient care takes priority.
But today was different. Today, the past caught up with me in an unexpected way.
As I walked into the ER, chart in hand, my focus was already on the next case. I barely glanced at the patient’s name as I spoke, “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got—” Then I looked up.
Robby Langston.
There he was, sitting on the examination bed, cradling his wrist. His eyes widened as they met mine, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. I wondered, for a brief moment, if he remembered me. Then, as his gaze lingered, I knew he did.
School memories resurfaced instantly. Back then, Robby had been the source of countless taunts, making my teenage years difficult with teasing and unkind words. It had been a long time since I’d thought about those days, but standing here now, I couldn’t ignore the irony—he was the patient, and I was the one responsible for his care.
“Becca?” he said, his voice uncertain. “Wow… it’s been a long time.”
I kept my expression neutral, professionalism guiding my response. “What happened to your wrist?”
“Basketball injury,” he muttered. “I think it’s just a sprain.”
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