I looked down. She was also asleep.
“It worked,” I said in relief, tears hitting my eyes for the thousandth time in the last twenty-four hours.
“She’s out,” Mel said in amusement. “She’s practically drooling.”
“Thank God,” I whispered, resting my hand on her chest for a moment before checking her pulse. I was a nurse. I couldn’t stop myself.
I gently pulled Rebel’s glasses off her face and handed them to Mel as my dad came back in the room.
“Is that medically induced?” he asked, nodding at Rebel.
“Yeah, they gave her something after you left,” I whispered, laying Rebel down on the bed next to me.
“Good,” he said as he handed me a mocha from the hospital cafeteria. He turned to Mel and handed her a cup, too.
“Ah, Mr. Duncan you’re a saint,” she said airily, making my dad roll his eyes behind his glasses.
She always flirted with him. It was disgusting, but my revulsion didn’t bother her in the slightest. Ever since she’d seen my dad with his shirt off when we were seventeen, she’d had this weird thing for him. Thankfully, my dad ignored it. I was pretty sure I would have killed him if he’d even acknowledged it.
“How we doing?” Doctor Grant called as he came back through the door a few minutes later. “Ah, looks like everything’s going as planned.” He smiled at me, but I couldn’t make my lips form one in return.
A nurse came in behind him, and I glowered as she pulled a tray in with her.
“You’re not doing her IV,” I said, startling her with the venom in my voice. I turned to the anesthesiologist. “Where’s a fucking pediatric nurse?”
“Molly,” he said chidingly. I both loved and hated that we were at the hospital where I worked. It was comforting to know how good the doctors and anesthesiologists were, but it also meant that I knew which nurses were fucking horrible at finding veins for IVs.
“She’s not getting near my child with a needle,” I growled, meeting the nurse’s eyes, knowing I was making an enemy, but not caring in the slightest. “I’ve seen the shit job you do.”
“She’s not going to change her mind,” Mel said into the tension-filled silence. “You should probably get another nurse.”
“I can do it,” I said decisively.
“You know it’s against hospital policy,” Doctor Grant said, waving the nurse out. “Who would you like to put the IV in?”
“Who’s working?” I asked stubbornly.
He went down the list of nurses working and I immediately picked one. “Jan. She actually knows what the fuck she’s doing.”
“I’m sure she’ll be glad for the endorsement,” Doctor Grant said dryly. “I’ll go get her.”
“Jesus,” Mel said with a laugh as soon as he was gone. “You’re never going to be able to come back to work.”
“Fuck her,” I mumbled.
“Calm down, Molly,” my dad said softly, reaching out to rub my back.
“That nurse leaves bruises the size of golf balls,” I said in irritation, climbing off the bed and away from his hand.
It took less than ten minutes for nurse Jan to walk in the door, her hands above her head. “I come in peace!” she called out jokingly, making my dad chuckle. “Hey, girl. Sounds like you’re making friends left and right this morning.”
“Samantha does a shit job and everyone knows it,” I replied stubbornly. “You’re good.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, giving me a smile as she walked over to the bed. She swept a soft hand over Rebel’s arm, then lifted it and looked it over. “Check out those pretty veins. Piece of cake.”
I had to force myself not to get in Jan’s space as she prepped the IV site, but I couldn’t stop myself from rounding the bed. “Should it be in her foot?” I asked, immediately clamping my lips shut when my dad shot me a look.
“If I thought it would work better, I’d do it,” Jan said softly. “But, no. Arm will work just fine, mama.”
It was over quickly, and Reb barely flinched, relaxing back against the bed before Jan had even applied the tape to keep the IV in place.
“All set,” Jan said, cleaning up the supplies.
“Thanks, Jan,” I said quietly, leaning down to kiss Rebel’s head.
“No problem, honey. I’m the same way when my kids go to the hospital. Celeste broke her arm last year and I wouldn’t let Doctor Marv set it,” she said softly, giving me a sympathetic smile. “We know what’s best for our kids, probably more than most.”
She left the room just as Rebel’s primary care doctor came into the room.
“How’s she doing?” Doctor Mendez asked, moving forward to get a good look at Rebel.
“She’s good,” I said, a feeling of relief rushing through me. I knew all of the people who’d come into the room since we’d been admitted that morning, but Doctor Mendez knew Rebel. None of the others had watched her grow. They didn’t know her history. They hadn’t checked for ear infections, or noticed that there was something wrong with her eyesight. They hadn’t calculated her growth and cheered at every benchmark she’d reached since she was a newborn. To those people, my coworkers, she was just another patient. I understood it. But she wasn’t just another patient to Doctor Mendez. Rebel was her patient.