Eye of the Storm (Hudson 3)

jar.

"What's that?" I asked.

"I was just going to explain it to you. Ms.

Randolph let me order a case of it for you. It's an

herbal bath powder that all my patients enjoy. It helps

keep your skin healthy. The water will look green, but

don't mind that."

"Oh. Thank you," I said. She nodded and

started to help me out of bed.

I went into the wheelchair to the bathroom

where she practically pulled off my nightgown. I

quickly covered myself and then realized there was no

point to my modesty. That's one of the first things that

goes for someone in my condition. I thought. My

body no longer felt like it belonged to me anyway. She glanced at me while she continued to

prepare my bath.

"You're a pretty girl," she said surprising me.

"I've seen pretty girls wilt like sun-starved flowers in

hospitals. They lose that glow, but you haven't. Yet,"

she added. Then she considered me again and nodded.

"Maybe you won't, but you got to care about

yourself."

"I don't know if I can." I admitted.

"If you can't, you can't," she said with a shrug.

"No one's going to be hurt more than you."

"Thanks for the encouragement," I muttered. Finally, she smiled, but it wasn't a warm smile.

It was a smile of irony and self-satisfaction.

"Hell, girl. I'm not hired here to be your

cheerleader. I'm here to help you help yourself and

keep this place looking decent so folks will not feel