Delta's Baby Surprise (Special Forces Elite 1)

Gretchen

I looked at the clock. It was close to midnight. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. My shift was almost over. The fluorescent lights overhead made everything look washed out. I wondered why hospitals still used them. They didn’t make the staff happy and they certainly weren’t good for the patients. I wished they had been outlawed.

I walked to the nurses’ station. “Any new patients?” I asked.

“No, you better get out of here before that changes,” the night nurse warned. “It’s quiet for once around here. And you know what that means.”

“I think you’re right.” I smiled. “I’ll be in the doctor’s lounge if that changes in the next ten minutes. I hope we didn’t just jinx it. Maybe I can sneak out.”

She laughed. “Good luck, doc.”

I walked down the hall past the patient rooms and pulled the stethoscope from my neck, letting it dangle in my hands. I massaged the back of my shoulders. I had been on my feet for twelve hours. The only thing I could think about was a hot shower, preferably at home. I needed to get one of those special spa foot massagers. I didn’t know what hurt worse after these long shifts: my back or my feet.

“Hey, you clocking out?”

I turned to see Dr. Mors filling his coffee cup at the break bar. He was a legend at the hospital. I was afraid to ask how old he was, but it had to be close to retirement age.

“I’m trying to get out of here before I get paged.”

He chuckled. “Famous last words. You better turn off your pager and your cell phone.”

“I know. I know. I have the next three days off. I’m going to sleep through all three of them,” I answered, pulling my bag from my locker.

“Didn’t you sign up for the Help a Hero Program?” he asked. He stirred in half the jar of sugar.

“Shit. I did. My day is tomorrow, isn’t it? I completely forgot about volunteering. I can’t believe it,” I groaned.

He took a sip of his coffee, his long nose dipping in the cup. “Yep. You better pick up your list on the way out. Every doctor has an assignment. Great program. One of the best organizations we’ve worked with.”

“Any chance these soldiers sleep in?” I whined.

He laughed. “The ones I worked with were up before the sun. They like their early morning workouts.”

I sighed. “What are the chances I’ll get the ones that are more nocturnal? You know, same schedule as me?” I checked the clock over the door. Finally, midnight.

“You remember what they said in our veterans training about disrupted sleep patterns,” he added. “They are dealing with internal clocks on desert time and they have no interest in adjusting. They either can’t sleep or sleep too much. Their sleep habits are all over the place.” He threw his hands in the air.

I knew it was his age, but he couldn’t help but drop bits of wisdom whenever he had a chance. I wondered if he had thought about going into medical teaching instead of practice.

“Right. I do. That part of the program’s training reminded me of my psych rotation. I had just enough to help me with my patients, but not so much I felt like I had to psychoanalyze everyone.” I remembered how much I enjoyed that rotation.

The older doctor chuckled. “Believe me, these guys already think that’s why you’re there. The first two I met practically threw me out. They didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Really?” I tried to imagine someone trying to manhandle Dr. Mors.

“Oh yeah. We know we’re there to help, but it might not come across that way to them. Some of them just want to be left alone. They would rather struggle than ask for help. They think it’s a sign of weakness. Don’t forget that tomorrow.”

I flung my bag on my shoulder. “Good to know. Thanks.” Great. Not only was I giving up my time off, but I was also going to have to deal with a cranky soldier who hated me on the spot.

“Sure thing. I have a patient to check on. Good luck tomorrow, and enjoy your time off. Good night, Dr. Forrest.”

“Good night, Dr. Mors.” I walked out of the lounge in search of the list I needed for the Help a Hero Program.

“Darla, do you have the volunteer information here?” I asked, stopping at the nurses’ station on my way out.

“Sure do. Hold on a second.” The nurse returned with a clipboard in her hand. “Looks like you only have one.”

“Only one?” I scrunched my nose. “Did they run out or something?”